The House of Silence is an elite male bordello catering to the obscenely rich. No matter how extreme or mundane the fantasy, the House of Silence is rumored to serve. Master Charon employs a group of versatile, beautiful young men–some lewd, some innocent, many with tragic pasts and hidden secrets of their own–who depend on him for safety. This volatile mix erupts when danger threatens. (M/M+)
“You’re so beautiful.” Aburon’s hand slid underneath Vincent’s chin, tipping his head back to make him look up at where the taller man stood behind him.
Vincent looked away sharply. “No. I’m not.”
The corner of Aburon’s mouth curled upward as he released Vincent’s chin and smoothed a hand over the side of his head. The gesture was reminiscent of a tolerant owner petting a favored pet. “You’re too hard on yourself.” His fingers lingered at the edge of the patch covering Vincent’s eye. “You think this scar takes away from your beauty, but you’re wrong. It only makes you more alluring.”
Vincent shivered again, more deeply this time. He had no illusions about his physical appearance; he knew he was disfigured, that whatever physical beauty he might once have had was now irretrievably gone. If anything, he knew he had a kind of exotic appeal to his customers. He knew he looked foreign, with his dark olive skin and his sharply defined features, and his accent that was reminiscent of the eastern regions near the sea. He’d tried hard to lose the accent since he’d come to the House of Silence, but he’d never quite been able to manage it entirely.
Rising up onto his knees, he twisted smoothly around in the chair until he faced Aburon and leaned in to kiss him. Aburon opened to him instantly, tongue stroking deeply inside his mouth as a wide hand applied subtle pressure at the small of his back, holding him close.
“Beautiful,” Aburon said again, breathing out against Vincent’s lips. Then, more softly, “Take your clothes off.”
Smiling inwardly, Vincent obeyed. His hands were steady as they unwound the belt of the wraparound vest and shrugged out of the stiff weight of it, then went to work on the buttons of the full-sleeved shirt he wore underneath. He kept his gaze down, not particularly caring to see the naked appreciation that shone in Aburon’s eyes as his body was exposed. His build was slender, lissome, which was desirable to the vast majority of his customers. Aburon had never made any secret of the fact that he found Vincent’s body to be an intensely exciting plaything.
“On the floor,” Aburon said. Despite the gentleness of his tone, the note of command in it was unmistakable. “You know what to do.”
Yes. Vincent knew what to do. Keeping his gaze lowered, he moved to stand in front of Aburon and sank down to his knees, wincing slightly at the rough scrape of the carpet against his shins as he settled into a com¬fortable position. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he moved his hands behind his back and held them there.