Lutin’s Heir
Book 3 in the River of Time Series
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Seventeenth Century Paris: a city of intrigue, divination, illicit romance and murder.
Louis XIII is dead, Louis XIV serves as the child puppet of Mazarin while the nobles of France seethe with bitterness. Developing precognition brings Jules disturbing visions he can’t quite comprehend. Something runs rampant through his chateau turning his household upside down. Bereft of his former patron, Richelieu, Jules must ally himself with his most hated foe to humiliate those of purer blood who scorn him. He, his grown sons, and his lover Curran engage in spiteful games meant to disgrace an arrogant old woman with the keys to Jules’ past. Will a harridan’s ruin be worth the sacrifice Jules will make?
EXCERPT
“So, you had no intention of bedding him then?”
“I did not say that.” A quick smile flashed. “I, however, had no designs to whore him out.” Curran sat on the edge of the bed. Pushing the hair from the young man’s face, it gave me the view of a profile of sharp cheeks and full lips. He was definitely a well built lamb. “Raoul,” with a whisper, Curran leaned down. The young man stirred and blinked, offering a soft smile to Curran. My Irish hadn’t gotten much out of him? Such a smile belied that statement. He yawned and looked toward me.
Curran laughed again. Lolling back on the bed, he waived toward me. “This is my dear friend. The one I told you of last night. Raoul this is Julius, Vidamé du Caroline.”
It seemed to take a moment for the introduction to seep in to his sleep fogged wits. With a start Raoul shot to his knees. Raoul stumbled across the bed then to his feet trailing bedclothes. Mon Dieu, normally I don’t get that much of a reaction. “I am sorry, Monsieur. I didn’t stand. I didn’t know, lord. Forgive me…”
Stepping in, I pressed my finger to his lips to stop the babble. “Shh, in this place that you have found, we are either above such things or below them. We have yet to decide which. Within these walls there are no titles, only men. And this oh-so-casual man, who you seem to know well enough, is a Chevalier in his own right.” Large brown eyes went wide as they met my gaze. He slipped his stare for a moment to consider Curran. My Irish shrugged. Slowly Raoul licked his lips. Then, eyes narrowed slightly, he returned his focus to me. That was promising in and of itself. Raoul had spark.
“Never speak of what happens here.” His skin was warm where my hand pressed against his chest. With a small thrust I pushed him back. His knees caught the edge of the bed and he fell across Curran’s boots. “If you meet one you have seen here in the street, do not acknowledge them except as circumstances should dictate.” I slid onto the pallet next to him. “Do you understand these things?”
“I don’t know.” He swallowed. There was, however, no fear in his eyes. Quick study indeed.
Smirking, Curran reached out and traced Raoul’s hairline with his thumb. “In time you will.” His other fingers ran lightly through the young man’s thick brown hair.
Hesitant, Raoul asked. “What are you two doing?”
I traced down Raoul’s shoulder and inside his arm with my index finger. Rough cloth slid under my touch. “We’re going to teach you a trick or two, my beautiful one. Some things you may find useful should you stay with Mother or us.” Raoul shivered and gasped, leaning into the touch. I pressed my lips against Raoul’s neck, just above the shoulder. He tasted salty and smelled of horses and straw. Raoul leaned back exposing his neck as he turned his head to look at Curran. What a fine present my Irish had brought me, it was almost enough to cure my mood.
Curran removed his own shirt and threw it to the floor. Toned bare arms and chest were revealed. A soldier’s body, still so wonderful after so many years, I sucked in my breath at the sight of him. “A bit warm in here, would not you say so, a chuisle?” He teased, winking at me. I loved it when he called me that in his native tongue. His pulse… my soul forever beating in his heart. He was as much part of my breath as I of his.
Still kissing, moving around Raoul’s throat, I tugged the man’s shirt from his shoulders. “Very warm, indeed.” My voice throbbed against the young man’s skin. Raoul let out a soft moan. Curran’s hands bumped mine as we removed Raoul’s shirt and the Irishman planted a few kisses on Raoul’s chest.
I struggled with my own clothes as I licked Raoul’s spine. Raoul gasped as his body was exposed to the chill air and the warm tongue licking his skin. Wanton creature that I am, the thought of getting Raoul out of his clothes was maddening. When his arms came free, Raoul reached to pull Curran into a kiss. I had thought we would have more resistance from him. Raoul seemed far more receptive than expected. Pulling back watching them kiss I tossed my own coat and shirt to the floor. “So, mon ami, you have played this game before?”
“Not truly.” Raoul whispered against Curran’s lips.
“A little play behind the stables, was it? I’ll rub you if you rub me?” Raoul laughed, confirming one of my suspicions. “You wanted more, but could not convince them to play?”
“Oui.”
Curran smirked into the kiss and danced his fingers over Raoul’s chest. “For some it takes a wee bit of convincing.” A shared joke between us: it had taken me more than a year to convince Curran.
The Irishman found a nipple and lightly ran his fingers over it. Raoul gasped and grabbed the nearest thing to him which happened to be my thigh. His touch sent little shards of ice under my skin. I nipped at Raoul’s shoulder and reached in between them to work at the ties for Raoul’s breeches.
Curran nibbled on Raoul’s bottom lip and gently ran his hand into his hair. Lifting himself onto his knees, helping me with his own clothes, Raoul kissed Curran harder. Their tongues fought with hungry abandon. It was like both were starved for the taste of another man’s mouth. And they seemed rather familiar with each other. Curran and I would discuss this further… but not at this moment.
Tugging at Raoul’s trousers, pushing them off his legs, I brought my hand back up and caressed Raoul’s throbbing cock. Fine as the rest of him, it filled my hand. Whatever ‘not truly’ meant, it wasn’t a lack of want. Then I resumed my attentions to Raoul’s neck and shoulder with hot kisses and nips.
Curran licked Raoul’s bottom lip before pillaging his mouth with his tongue. He tangled his fingers into Raoul’s hair and groaned into the kiss. Raoul pulled away from Curran to half gasp half moan, “That feels wonderful.” He reached down to finger Curran’s own hard prick and then looked up for reassurance.
I whispered into the back of Raoul’s neck. “Please, I’m sure Curran would be grateful for the attention.”
Raoul groped at the fastenings of Curran’s pants. There would not have been such a problem had he not kept his gaze focused on my Irish’s blue eyes. For his part, Curran looked down at Raoul, his eyes half open, fogged with lust. A smile broke his lips as he watched the young man. Finally wrangling Curran’s breeches down, it apparently dawned on Raoul that he was undressing another man. This must have also been what ‘not truly’ meant. A brilliant shade of red stained his cheeks.
“I think you made him blush. How sweet.” I began to toy with the little drop of moisture seeping up from Raoul’s shaft, drawing little circles around the crown. Raoul’s hips bucked and he hissed.
Curran chuckled. “This is turning out to be quite entertaining. Wouldn’t you agree, Jules?”
I smiled out from beneath Raoul’s fall of brown hair, “Very. If he moans this bad now, what will happen when we actually get down to particulars?”
Raoul looked down at Curran’s prick and licked his lips. “Do you th-think I could?” He couldn’t finish the question.
“I’ve never met someone so shy and so wanton at the same time. It’s rather delightful.” Curran leaned down and licked the top of Raoul’s ear before whispering, “Go ahead.” My skin frosted over knowing what I was about to watch.
Raoul ran a shaky finger over the tip of Curran’s cock and rubbed the liquid that seeped out around the head. A quick study; my love proved right again. He was always right about such things. Curran closed his eyes and exhaled, his breath ragged. I squeezed the fat cock in my hand. Wrapping my hand around the young man’s shaft, I slowly stroked him. Silk slid against my palm.
Raoul gasped and wrapped his hand around Curran’s prick. A soft moan rose from the back of Curran’s throat at the sudden increase in contact. Raoul kept up this new grip. He pumped his fist down toward Curran. Curran’s breath was coming short and fast. He watched the other man’s face and smiled. “Raoul.” The Irishman’s voice broke husky.
I pulled Raoul’s earlobe into my mouth and began to suck on it as I stroked him. Raoul pushed his ass back toward me. Catching the moisture weeping from Raoul’s cock, I slid my hand off his shaft, across his hip, ass and between Raoul’s cheeks. My fingers already slick, I pressed one up and inside his hole. “Is that what you wanted?”
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