A Gentleman's Secret ~ The third novelette from "Different Desire", a Gay Victorian Romance and Erotic novelette collection

sleeping in the bed with his dark brown, wavy hair spread over the pillow. He slept on one side , curled up like a child or a small animal. The light from the candle soften ed his expression together with sleep , and not even a trace of the arrogant nobleman could be seen. I abandoned caution , and before I knew it , I had entered the room and stood by his bedside, suddenly neglectful about the idea that this could have been a trap.
    I took the opportunity to study him closer, now when no one could interru pt us. My memory had not lied: h e truly was exceedingly attractive , in an almost provocative way. He was older than I was, but life had treated him so gently , and no sign of London’s lower brutal life had ever touched him. He l ooked so innocent when he slept that I immediately felt like a villain with wicked intentions. I wonder what would happen if I touched him ? I thought, and before I had time to stop the impulse, I had let my knuckles stroke his cheek and let one fingertip slowly glide over his full lips, remembering when I had kissed him. He moaned softly in his sleep. The gesture suddenly felt very intimate , and to my own surprise , I realized that I longed for this man and wanted to be with him! It was a silly thought, of course. This was a gentleman, an upper - class nobleman, and an aristocrat. The kind of man I usually loathed with a vengeance.
    But there was no denying it. He was also so beautiful, handsome to the extreme with his high cheekbones and soft lips. The sight of him would have tempted even a saint.
    And I was no saint, far from it. The combination of his strong and muscular body blended with the delicacy and neatness of everything , from his carefully trimmed sideburns to his remarkably clean fingernails, was so odd and different. In fact, everything about him was so wrong! And yet so righ t and so irresistible, I thought, as I, on a whim, bent down to kiss him.
    He stirred, but just a little, in his sleep. I was slightly surprised by that. I had thought he would wake up, and I had imagined a lot of screaming and calling for the butler or , more preferable of course, a kiss in return. That was when I noticed the small, dark, glass bottle on his bedside table. U nlike many of my friends, I can, in fact , read , and slowly I managed to make sense of the handwritten label. “ Laudanum ”, it said. “ Take two teaspoons one hour before going to bed . Sleeping draught administered by …” and then an unreadable signature.
    Oh, so my fine sleeping gentleman was in fact rather drugged with opium drops. It made me feel strangely concerned for him. Which demons hunt you by night so that you have to fend them off with opium? I wondered and stroked his cheek again . But then a wicked thought crossed my mind: He is drugged; I can do whatever I want with him! The thought was followed by a short mental image of exactly how I would be able to sinfully ravish him while he was defenceless and at my mercy . I felt myself grow harder and enjoyed the thought for a moment before I shoved it aside . I would do no such t hing. Or would I? No, I would not! However, the opportunity to kiss him might not come again, and beside s, I was slightly curious of how he would react if I managed to wake him.
     
    *
     
    It was one of those bad dreams again, I realized as soon as it started, but this time it was more vivid and lifelike than before. Apparently , Dr Steinbeck’s medicine did not have its promised sedative effect because here he was, Simon the thief, in my very bedroom. And he was kissing me again, but this time , oh, so gently; his lips only brushed mine.
    “Is this a dream?” I mumbled.
    “Of course it is, Anthony,” he confirmed.
    “What … what are you doing?” I asked as I realized that certain male parts of me were waking too.
    “Is that not obvious?” Simon whispered, his lips so soft.
    “No … ” I said breathlessly.
    “I am … ” he said quietly, between kisses. “I am seducing you.”
    “But why?”
    “Because I want to,” he said and kissed me again. “In fact, I desire you most desperately.”
    And perhaps I should have been ashamed, but I kissed him back. Just out of curiosity, of course. I have never kissed anyone, and since I was half-convinced that this was a dream, I thought I should try it, and I simply let it happe n . I let him guide me, since I have no experience in the matter. He kissed me slowly and rather gently, not at all like the first violent kiss by