Old Sins, Long Shadow Read online

  “What troubles me?” The question caught Damian by surprise. He laughed harshly, furious at them both now. “Oh, why, nothing, señor. Nothing at all. What could possibly be amiss?” How could he have been such a fool? Dangerous as he’d known Conrad to be, still he’d imagined himself safe with him. Now he would pay the price for his foolishness. “Excepting, of course, the small fact that—as you are already well aware—I am not free to take a lover to my bed and yet…” He paused, struggling once more for composure. “If you’ve marked me as thoroughly as I fear you must have by now, I don’t know how I am to explain such a thing. Unless I can somehow convince His Excellency it was he who bit me, while too drunk to recall it, my life is as good as ended. Is it still revenge you’re after, señor? If so, felicidades, I congratulate you for having achieved your goal. It was most cleverly done. I confess I did not even see the blow coming.”

  Conrad looked briefly startled. His gaze flicked curiously to Damian’s neck, then back to his face. A small smile graced his lips. “So. It seems I’ve frightened the little bird, after all. Calm yourself, my dear, you’ve naught to fear. Upon my honor, I’ve left no marks upon you.”

  “How is that possible? I’m sure I felt your teeth break my skin. There must be a mark.”

  “You may check your reflection in the glass, if you doubt me,” Conrad suggested. “But I have given you my word on it and I do not lie about such things.” Straightening up, he released Damian from his grasp. He sat back on his heels between Damian’s spread legs and gazed at him thoughtfully. “I won’t say it wouldn’t give me a good deal of pleasure to mark you for myself, or that I had not thought of doing so, for indeed I have. But I am well aware of the awkwardness of your position and what unpleasantness might ensue were I to indulge myself in such a manner and I no longer have any wish to cause you harm. In truth, I have come to the realization that it would pain me greatly to see you come to grief.”

  Thank God for that. Damian rubbed his hands over his face. He felt positively weak with relief. “Muchas gracias.”

  Conrad sighed. “De nada. But, since we are speaking frankly, you should know, perhaps, that you were not altogether wrong in your initial assumption. I was, indeed, very angry with you earlier this evening. I came here tonight with every intention of exacting retribution—from you as well as from the duke. It was for that very reason that I went to the effort of drugging him. I wished to keep him out of the way while I occupied myself with you.”

  “You did what?” Startled, Damian propped himself up on his elbows and stared at Conrad. “Drugged? Is that why he sleeps so soundly? But…how? And, by all that’s holy, why? What madness would prompt you to take such a risk?” The danger Conrad had placed himself in left Damian terrified for him. If he’d ever cared to wonder whether or not Conrad was in fact a peasant, this would have provided proof positive he was not. No one of less than royal birth would dare even think of doing such a thing—unless they were hopelessly mad. Such an action spelled death if he were to be found out. Even among the aristocracy, most men would have counted themselves honored were they to be insulted by so exalted a personage as an archduke.

  “How is of no importance.” Conrad waved the question away. “As for why—did I not just explain that to you? I wanted satisfaction. I wanted to make you both rue your words, to take what was his, make it my own and then flaunt my conquest in his face. I judged him to be the jealous type, someone easily enraged, likely to fly into a fury over such trivial things. Would you not agree with that assessment?”

  Trivial? “Ah, sí, sí,” Damian agreed, feeling faint. “Most assuredly.” Perhaps he had underestimated the amount of danger he was putting himself in tonight. Perhaps, of the two of them, it was not Conrad who had the most to lose, after all.

  Conrad nodded. “Then, it is as I thought. It would have been a most effective plan. But, it is no longer of importance.” His eyes flickered over Damian’s face once again. “I’ve decided it would be unnecessarily cruel to use you in so heartless a fashion, as well as a tragic waste of such a beautiful mouth. But, if I were ever to find out that you’ve merely been lying to me—”

  “I swear to you I am not,” Damian insisted, still shaken by the narrowness of his escape. “My hand to God, it was never my intention to insult you. I said what I did only to distract His Excellency, to keep him from guessing at my attraction for you, and to keep him from attempting to divert your attention away from myself. Even though he believes you to be a peasant, I am sure he would much prefer to see your attention focused on him instead of on me.” Dropping his gaze, he confessed, “And I, too, may be jealous of what I consider mine.”

  At that, Conrad laughed. “If that be true, I should thank you, I suppose, for having saved me from el Duque’s attentions. For that must be surely a fate worse than death.” Taking Damian’s chin between his fingers, Conrad forced Damian to once again meet his gaze. “But what is it you are calling yours, my little lordling? Surely you do not refer to me in this fashion?”

  Damian swallowed hard, struggling with his disappointment. Clearly, he had been reaching for something so far above him, it might as well have been the sky itself. “I know it cannot be forever,” he murmured humbly. “But, I thought, for a little while, perhaps…could it not be so? Te quiero para mí—I want you for myself. I have from the very start.”

  “And you shall have me,” Conrad promised, still holding his gaze. “But, Damian, let us be very clear. I am not yours. I do not belong to anyone—not now, not ever again. It is, rather, you who will become mine tonight, if I so wish it. Not the other way around. Is that understood?”

  Damian was not unmindful of the threat implicit in Conrad’s dark, implacable gaze, but what cared he for that? It was balanced by the hint of tenderness in his embrace, by the desire that had hardened his body. And by the hope Damian could not quell, the desperate longing he could never deny. Swallowing was twice as difficult as before, words were nearly impossible. “Sí, señor,” he managed at last. “Of-of course. It will all be just as you say.”

  “Good.” Conrad’s eyes gleamed gold once again. Releasing Damian’s chin, he grasped him by the back of his neck and pulled him close, taking his lips in yet another mind-melting kiss. Damian settled his hands at either side of Conrad’s waist, needing to anchor himself with the touch because, just like before, it seemed as though the room had begun to spin.

  Conrad pressed forward, slowly lowering Damian onto the bed. This time, when his hungry mouth sought Damian’s throat, Damian did not resist. He arched his neck, offering himself willingly, putting all his faith in Conrad’s promise to do him no harm.

  It was madness to give so much trust, so much control, to a man about whom he knew so very little; a man who, by his own admission, had come here tonight seeking vengeance; one who would apparently stop at nothing in the pursuit of that or any other passion. But, how could Damian not trust him? And how could he not put everything he had at risk in order to be with him for even a little while? Such a man was everything he’d ever hoped to find.

  The pulling sensation at his throat grew stronger, sending another backwash of heat spreading throughout Damian’s body. He was acutely aware of every sensation, no matter how slight, from the thundering of his own pulse to the slick sheen of sweat that limned his skin in all the places where his body met Conrad’s. His cock grew painfully hard. When his arousal became too great to ignore, he slid a hand between their straining bodies, awkwardly trying to grasp both shafts at once, squeezing and stroking them, rubbing each against the other with feverish need.

  Growling in approval, Conrad canted his hips forward, pushing himself harder into Damian’s hand. Damian tightened his grip in response, stroking faster, aided now by the leaking fluid that coated his fingers. He worked his other hand between them as well, this time reaching for the tender sacs that held their balls. He tugged and twisted, juggling them in his hand. The scent of arousal grew so thick that Damian could almost taste it on the back of
his tongue.

  “Now, querido. Please,” he murmured, stretching up to briefly test his teeth against the muscle of Conrad’s shoulder. “Take me now.” He was desperate for the feel of Conrad’s hands on his body, for the heat of his shaft as it impaled him again and again, for the strength of his arms as they wrapped around him. It would feel so good—he knew that beyond any possible doubt. It would feel better than anything he had ever yet experienced. Better, perhaps, than anything he could even imagine.

  A harsh gasp tore from Conrad’s throat as he released Damian’s neck. Rearing up on his knees, he loomed over Damian. Skin flushed and glistening, his eyes hooded, Conrad gripped Damian’s thighs and bent his legs back, spreading them wide.

  “Is this what you’ve been hoping for, hidalgo?” he asked, as he slid the weeping tip of his shaft up and down along the crack of Damian’s ass. “Is this what you thought it would be like, to be made love to by a peasant?”

  Conrad smiled mockingly, taunting Damian, waiting for his nod, for the strangled whisper of assent to push past his lips before proceeding to press into him with torturous slowness…and then he stopped, waiting again, giving Damian’s body a chance to adjust.

  Damian had never before been taken in this position, face-to-face. He found it unbearably intimate. He shut his eyes against the intrusion and begged, “More. Put it all the way in now.”

  “First, open your eyes and look at me,” Conrad ordered. “And tell me the truth. What is it that’s been in your head these past few nights? I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at me, watching me even as I was watching you. What was it you were hoping for?”

  Damian stared at Conrad in alarm. Was this a trick? A trap? Was he teasing? But, no. One look at Conrad’s face told him it was nothing like that. “Wh-what do you wish me to say?”

  “I wish you to tell me why it is you are so eager for me to have you. And, please, do not say it is because you actually believe the ridiculous theory you were putting forth earlier this evening. For, I confess, I shall be most disappointed if that is, in fact, the case.”

  Whether or not Conrad even understood the power he wielded over him, Damian could not say, but he did not for a single moment believe Conrad was seeking dominion over him now out of cruelty, much less revenge. It seemed, rather, that he needed Damian’s capitulation; that he lived for it in much the same way a lesser man might live for air or water.

  He needs this, Damian realized with a profound sense of shock. And, by extension, Conrad needed him. It was a thought both humbling and endearing.

  “Answer me,” Conrad prompted.

  “It is only because I am yours, Señor Quintano.” It cost Damian nothing to say so. It was true anyway. Conrad Quintano. Conrad Quintano. Con-rad Quin-ta-no. It had probably been true all along. “All yours. Always yours. In truth, I can give you nothing—whether eagerly or in any other fashion—that you do not already own.”

  Triumph blazed in Conrad’s eyes; triumph mixed with hunger, turning the amber once again to glistening gold. He thrust home, filling Damian to perfection; then withdrew and slowly thrust again. Moaning in pleasure, Damian took hold of his own shaft once more. He began pumping it quickly, until Conrad covered his hand with his own and forced him to stop.

  “No,” Damian all but whimpered. “Don’t. I need—”

  “Shh,” Conrad commanded softly. “I know what it is you need. And I would give you all of that and more. Will you not trust me in this?”

  Damian gazed at him doubtfully. His aching cock throbbed and he could not keep his hand from tightening on it, squeezing harder. He hurt, damn it. He needed this. “Conrad…”

  “Let me have you, caro. All of you. Give yourself over to me now completely and I promise I will leave you wanting for nothing.”

  Reluctantly, Damian relinquished both his hold on his shaft and all his control. His heart pounded fiercely in his chest as Conrad’s hand closed over him. The muscles of his stomach rippled nervously. Never in all his life could he recall a time when he’d felt more open, more vulnerable, or more achingly alive.

  Again, Conrad began to move, surging into Damian with the same slow, steady rhythm as before, while his hand kept time, gliding just as slowly over Damian’s flesh. Damian could barely breathe. His nervousness forgotten, he writhed on the bed, eyes closed, hands clawing at the covers. It was like being caught between anvil and hammer. Every stroke of Conrad’s cock, each touch of Conrad’s hand, reverberated through him, edging Damian closer and closer to climax. And he could do nothing to alter either the direction or the speed of his course.

  “You are so beautiful,” Conrad murmured, his voice hoarse, breathless with his own need. “I could take you like this for hours. Days. I could spend a lifetime at the task.”

  Hours? Surely, he doesn’t mean it? Damian doubted he could stand even many more minutes of such sweet torture. He forced his eyes open. The veins stood out starkly on Conrad’s neck. His muscles were taut as bowstrings; and in the savage lines of his face Damian could clearly read the effort he was making to deny himself, to delay his own pleasure in order to give everything he had to Damian.

  Whatever Damian had been expecting from him tonight, whatever he’d been hoping for in a lover, it had not been this and something broke apart inside him at that moment. All at once he knew with utter clarity that he could never go back to the life he’d been living, nor ever again feel whole without this man.

  “Conrad, muy querido mio, please. I want only to bring you pleasure. Take me, mi amor,” he gasped, exploding in an ecstatic rush of heat and emotion. “Now and forever, I’m yours.”

  He spurted helplessly between Conrad’s fingers, felt his body convulse and tighten around Conrad’s shaft. With a muffled roar, Conrad abandoned his previous caution and plunged hard into him, again and again, causing Damian to climax a second time, even as he felt Conrad shudder and pulse within him, caught up in his own release.

  Afterward, Damian lay still, eyes closed, far too relaxed and sated to move. He gasped in pleasure when Conrad’s tongue roved over his belly, lapping up the juices that had spilled there. Conrad’s mouth moved slowly north, laving Damian’s chest, his throat. Then came the swift, sharp sting of Conrad’s teeth once again at his neck. A soft warmth spread through Damian’s veins. “I like that,” he murmured happily. “It feels…very…nice.”

  “I’ve no doubt it does.” A hint of amusement warmed Conrad’s voice. “Although ‘nice’ is not exactly the word I myself would have chosen to describe most of tonight’s activities.” A moment passed—perhaps two or three, for Damian had once again lost all track of time—but, finally, Conrad sighed. “So how does the little bird feel now?” he teased as settled himself beside Damian. “Has the ‘nice’ flight he’s taken cured him of the urge to fly outside his cage?”

  “For tonight, perhaps.” Damian opened his eyes a slit and peeked at Conrad. “But, might he not hope to take to the sky again on the morrow if, perchance, His Excellency were to once again find himself unaccountably exhausted?”

  Conrad smiled back at him. “Indeed, he might. And I would not be in the least surprised were such a thing to occur. For, I am told, it is not at all uncommon for these mysterious malaises to sometimes take several weeks to fully resolve themselves.”

  “Bueno.” Closing his eyes once more, Damian nestled his head against Conrad’s shoulder. “It’s settled then.”

  Conrad chuckled. “I’m honored to have met with your approval,” he murmured, his voice once again amused. Then he sighed. “But now, I suppose it would be best that I leave you.”

  Damian nodded sleepily. It was for the best, if not at all what he wanted. “Until tomorrow then, my dearest sky.”

  Conrad had been right, Damian decided as he drifted off to sleep; assumptions were indeed very dangerous things. All along he’d assumed he could never feel so much at home as he did right here, in the Alcazar, and that he could never wish to be anywhere else. Now he knew better. He still didn’t doubt that
Sevilla was the epicenter of the civilized world, but what cared he for that? What business did one such as he have with the world anyway? A bird, after all, was meant to soar above such things and could only ever truly belong to the sky.

  Chapter Sixteen

  San Francisco

  Present Day

  Julie moved the pieces of stained glass around on the table in front of her, frowning at the odd tingling in her fingertips, the same strange sensation she’d noticed that morning when she’d first unwrapped the box. She picked up one of the shimmering stars for a closer look.

  As she rubbed her thumb across the gold-flecked surface she couldn’t help wondering if her mother might not have done the same once. What might she have been thinking? Why had she never given Conrad his gift? She must have been meaning to, when she wrapped the package up so prettily and brought it here. What had stopped her?

  The library door opened. Julie glanced up, then quickly away again, when she saw who it was. Armand.

  She hated the way the mere sight of him caused her heart to race. Hated more that he could hear it, even from clear across the room. Hated most of all that it might be giving him ideas, making him think he knew how she felt about him.

  He didn’t know how she felt. He couldn’t. Even she wasn’t sure.

  She’d been running hot and cold on the subject ever since they’d met, and acting foolishly because of it. These last couple of day she’d simply been more confused and more foolish than ever. This thing between them…shit, she didn’t even know what she should call it. Whatever it was, it had gotten far too intense, far too quickly. It wasn’t healthy. It wasn’t smart.

  And that was even before she took into account the very real and uncomfortable possibility she’d been kissing someone who might very well have been her mother’s lover. Not to mention the fact she’d contemplated sleeping with him, or that she probably would already have done so, if Conrad hadn’t happened to interrupt them coming in the other night.