Temptation ~ The second novelette from "Different Desire", a Gay Victorian Romance and Erotic novelette collection

the brass doorknob with a mixture of relief and disappointment, Winston’s warm fingers closed over his grip, stopping him. How he had managed to move so swiftly, Oliver did not know, but suddenly he was alarmingly close behind him.
    “I told you long ago that you do not need to pretend for me,” Winston whispered in his ear. “I know that you do not want me to leave.”
    And before Oliver had time to react, Winston effortlessly and without compromise grabbed his collar and pulled him close , and to Oliver’s bewilderment , Winston kissed him, pressing his soft curved lips against his.
    “I … ” Oliver tried to say ; however , his protests were silenced as Winston took the opportunity to kiss him deeper when Oliver opened his mouth to object. The ti ps of their tongues met , and the kiss deepened further and transformed into something more serious than just a foolish kissing game between two young gentlemen.
    Half-heartedly , Oliver tried to push him away, mostly because he felt that he should and not because he wanted to. But Winston only laughed softly in response.
    They kissed deeply, ardently, and almost roughly , and when Winston finally withdrew , Oliver felt that his face was flushed and his lips were tender from the other man’s stubble. His hair was tousled , and his clothes were in disorder , and to be perfectly honest , Oliver was more aroused than he cou ld possibly deny or even pretend to hide.
    “There,” Winston said with a victory smile playing on his lips. “I have been waiting a long time to do that.”
    “You really should not … ” Oliver started to say when his decency finally yielded unexpectedly swif tly to lust. He hesitated for a short moment, trying to regain his self-control. And then, like in a dream where he had little control over his actions, he took off his thin glasses and boldly leaned forward an d kissed him back. It is not really fair if only Winston is allowed to steal kisses, is it? Oliver thought in a vague excuse to himself.
    Oliver knew very well that he was act ing uncharacteristically rash and that they were treading on a path that was both wrong and treacherous, but he was unable to stop himself nonetheless. Winston had very little to lose, except possibly falling further down in his father’s grace, but Oliver could lose his reputation, his employment, and also quite possibly his entire career–which Lord Henley with his money and influence most likely could tear to pieces if he ever found out that Oliver had indulged in bad behaviour with his son.
    All this was perfectly clear to Oliver; however , it did nothing to stop him. He wanted this most desperately. What was left of his moral sense told him sternly that he was act ing like an idiot, but lust and craving swiftly silenced the feeble voice in his head that tried to p e rs uad e him di fferently and see reason before it was too late.
    The kissing was simply too good , and it rapidly fuelled his growing desire that spread like wildfire. One moment they were only kissing, albeit not completely innocently, while in the next moment, t hey tore at each other’s clothes urgently, intoxicated by burning lust and weeks and weeks of denied pleasure.
    All Oliver wanted was to feel naked skin against his own , and he tore at Winston’s starched shirt , and with a small sigh , he let his hands travel in under the hem of Winston’s breeches, experimentally stroking the upper part of his bottom. In response, Winston pressed himself unabashe dly against him , and Oliver had no problem sensing his firm hardness against his thigh. The sensation made Oliver even more aroused , and he felt himself grow harder. It was quite obvious that their desire for each other was more than mutual.
    Winston cupped Oliver’s chin with both hands and kissed him again, deeply and thoroughly, while he started to move his hips repeatedly and without a trace of modesty against him. Oliver gasped involuntarily when he felt their erections rub against each other with only a thin couple of layers of clothes in between them. It was both highly exciting and a little bit frustrating , and it rapidly brought Oliver’s desire to an entir ely new level of unfulfilled passion. But it was not until Winston , with a rather unsteady hand , took his wrist and guided Oliver’s hand downwards and resolutely placed it over his full length with a small moan of pleasure that Oliver briefly recovered a sense of self-preservation.
    “Perhaps we should