Page 3 of Restored

By the time he crawled into bed, Henry was already breathing rhythmically, his eyelids closed.

“You look exhausted,” Kit murmured, pressing a kiss to Henry’s broad shoulder.

“Been up since five,” Henry mumbled. “Long day.”

Kit leaned over and blew the candle beside the bed out, letting darkness swallow up the room. “Good night.”

Henry gave a little grunt of contentment and turned onto his side. In less than a minute his breaths had slowed and lengthened as sleep took him over.

Kit couldn’t sleep though. He lay awake in the darkness, Henry’s words playing over and over in his mind.

“I have the most beautiful boy in London, all to myself.”

They weren’t terrible words. He hadn’t called Kit his whore or belittled him in any way. And yet… Henry could have been speaking about a prize stallion, or a beautifully-tailored coat, and Kit couldn’t rid himself of the sudden, lowering conviction that he was just athingto Henry, perhaps a much-cherished thing, but still, athing, not a person.

Why did he keep torturing himself by allowing himself to imagine otherwise? How else could he expect Henry to think of him? For Christ’s sake, when they’d met Kit had been wearing nothing but a skimpy, near-transparent tunic and had been sprawled over the lap of one of the several men who, at that time, were vying to become his new protector.

He’d been selling himself. Advertising his wares and handing out a few free samples. Letting the goods be well and truly examined.

Well, that was the kind of man Kit was. One who could be bought outright with gold.

“I have the most beautiful boy in London, all to myself.”

Kit made himself face the truth. Hewasa thing—an object to be used. And for now, he was Henry’s, fairly bought and paid for. Paid to provide services; to fulfil Henry’s desires, not his own.

He had to remember that.

Henry wasn’t looking for someone to love. He had a wife. A woman to whom he was—in his own words—devoted. Four children whom he adored. They were his life.

Kit was just the beautiful boy Henry fucked twice a week.

And if Kit had been foolish enough to lose his heart to the man—to his client for God’s sake—that was his own damned fault.

2

Henry

As usual, Henry left just before dawn.

Christopher was still sleeping when he climbed out of bed, and for a minute, Henry just stood there, staring at Christopher’s comely face, relaxed and peaceful in sleep.

Henry’s chest ached.

He set the heel of his hand against his breastbone and rubbed there, but it did nothing to ease him.

These last months, his feelings for Christopher had started to alarm him. The young man haunted his thoughts ceaselessly, and Henry’s growing fondness and protectiveness towards him had begun to feel like something far more profound than the light affection he’d decided would be acceptable in an arrangement of this nature.

This was not how it was supposed to be.

He did not want these feelings. He did notneedthem. He had entered into this arrangement to deal with other needs—physical needs he had denied too long. He had expected it to be uncomplicated. Christopher was lusty and willing, a hedonist as well as a beauty, and Henry wanted to slake his desires upon the man’s body. That was all it was ever meant to be. All it could be.

Henry sighed and turned away to fetch his clothes, noting that Christopher had neatly hung them up for him last night when he was so tired it was all he could do to take them off before he fell into bed.

Moving quietly, Henry took his clothes into the neighbouring dressing room so he wouldn’t disturb Christopher as he dressed.

Once he was ready, he briefly considered going back into the bedchamber to wake his lover to say goodbye, before reminding himself that he needed start exercising some discipline over his unruly feelings. Instead, he left the dressing room by the door that gave onto the corridor outside, and briskly descended the stairs.

He rang the bell in hallway and soon enough, Hodge appeared to unlock the front door and let Henry out, quietly closing it behind him, and shutting him out of Christopher’s life for another few days.