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Haley was becoming more nauseous by the minute as the carriage's speed increased over the cobbled roads of London. She prayed not to empty her stomach. The sack of cloth covering her head was making her perspire like crazy. Her coiffured hair which Miss Babcock spent almost an entire hour arranging this morning was in total disarray. "I am having difficulty breathing please remove this stifling object from me at once! Do you know who I am? Of course you do; that is why you have captured me against my will. You will ask for a hefty ransom from my father, you blackguard!"
The petite blonde lay over someone's hard muscled thighs. She blushed being in such close proximity to a strange deranged man. Haley wiggled and pounded on her kidnapper's knees with closed fists. She heard masculine laughter. Haley's heart pounded against her ribcage. No, it couldn't be the earl, but it sounded like him. She chose to remain silent in case she was in the wrong and the criminal, who abducted her, was a cold blooded murderer or Lord forbid a rapist! Haley dreaded thinking of a tall, obese pox marked thug taking her against her will. She wished she had not saved herself for the marriage bed.
The vehicle finally stopped five minutes later and once again she was hurled over broad shoulders. She kicked at the man. At least Haley no longer felt queasy. She could have sworn she heard the cries of seagulls.
A while later the scratchy object was removed from her perspiring person. Haley readjusted her eyes to the light. A black sack lied discarded on the wooden floor. Haley's amber eyes landed on a pair of gigantic shiny black Hessian boots. She trailed her gaze upwards. Haley saw a mountain of a chest and craned her neck backwards a little to see her captor's face. It was just as she suspected, the Earl of Wesson stood in front of her with a smirk on his provocative mouth. "Haley, control yourself; this man is the criminal, who kidnapped you. Cease thinking he is the most handsome man you have ever laid eyes upon." Haley scolded herself internally. But her traitorous mind kept remembering the kiss they shared at the Crystal Ball.
Haley wanted to wipe the arrogant smug the earl currently sported. She rose on tiptoes and slapped him hard on his left cheek. His head moved to the side. She felt satisfaction at removing the smug grin off his arrogant façade.
"I guess I deserve that and more. I will not apologize for bringing you here with me. I heard about the Marquis breaking off your engagement and needed to make sure you were off the marriage market for good. Are you well? No one has mocked you after Dean cancelled your betrothal?"
Haley laughed sarcastically. "Are you insane? If you wanted to make sure I was well then you should have paid me a visit; instead of bloody kidnapping me! My father probably has men searching for me all over London. You can hang for kidnapping me! I demand you return me home safely. Who the bloody hell do you think you are, King George?" She crossed her arms as she sat on a chest used to store clothing.
Samuel thought the chit had no idea how much her fiery temper intoxicated him. He smiled and said, "I know you feel the same way about me as I feel towards you. I never believed in love at first but when I laid eyes on you at the ball; I became a believer."
Haley got up and paced the cabin. Her heart leapt with joy upon hearing the words come out of the earl's mouth. The man still could have handled things differently though. "Are we aboard a ship?"
"This is the Condor and we will set sail to Jamaica tomorrow morning. We were scheduled to start the voyage within a few hours but there are certain supplies that are still needed."
"Jamaica! You are insane! I have no clothes, family, currency, nothing over there!" Haley saw a brandy decanter on a small table and reached for it. Samuel ducked since he knew what her intentions were. The hellion threw it a few inches above his head. The glass decanter smashed against the door. Samuel blew her a kiss and winked before vacating the cabin swiftly. Haley turned the door handle, but the bastard locked the door from the outside. She would find a way to escape before the ship left port.
Later that evening, Dean sat amongst a group of ten male aristocrats in Aphrodite's gambling room. The establishment was famous for being London elite's most exclusive brothel and gaming den. The marquis smoked a cheroot after winning his third straight game of faro. "Lady Luck is on your side, Winchester," Lord Garth Applebaum stated as a buxom raven haired courtesan sat on his skinny lap. She poured a generous amount of bourbon for the gawky, long nosed aristocrat.
"Yes, she is." Dean saluted the man with his own glass of whiskey.
Castiel sat at the other end of the vast room. He watched a game of dice with disinterest. His gaze continuously ended on his lover across the smoky gambling den. Dean invited him to come along but Castiel was unsure of how the marquis would treat him in a public setting amongst a plethora of London's snobbish elite. Two partners of the same sex in a sexual relationship were considered taboo and social suicide. Homosexuality was considered a punishable crime. Castiel heard of two male lovers, who were publically executed.
He downed his bourbon and stared at Dean, who seemed to have won a fourth consecutive hand at faro. Castiel smirked. Dean must have sensed his presence because his emerald eyes landed on his form. They stared at each other for quite some time. A beautiful red head saucily sat on Dean's lap. The marquis gave her one of his devastatingly debonair smiles and whispered something in her ear. The courtesan pouted and left the table.
Castiel wondered what Dean told the woman. It was a terrible idea to come here. He wanted nothing more to claim Dean was his in public but that could never be. Castiel excused himself from the dice table and made his way out of Aphrodite's. He put his hands inside his black jacket's pockets. The night had turned chilly due to the heavy downpour that had fallen two hours ago.
The mercenary was pulled into Aphrodite's dark alley. Dean pushed him against the concrete wall. "I thought you were to join me at the faro table." The marquis pressed a thigh in between the Frenchman's legs.
"I am surprised you even saw me there with all those women throwing themselves at you."
Dean was going to kiss Castiel on the lips but the shorter man turned his head to the side. The Phoenix's lips landed on his cheek instead. Dean chuckled. "Now who is the jealous one?"
Castiel turned to look at his lover with furious stormy eyes. Dean traced his thumb across Cas' stubble ridden jaw. "There is no reason for jealousy, scoundrel of my heart. I told the girl I belonged to someone and I would never be unfaithful to them."
The mercenary narrowed his eyes at the taller man. "You mean that?"
Dean kissed him longingly on the lips. Castiel reciprocated the kiss and enveloped his legs around Dean's tapered waist. "Fuck me against the wall," he mouthed into Dean's hot and moist mouth.
The Phoenix bit Cas' lower lip hard as he hastily undid both of their trousers. Castiel encouraged him to skip the foreplay. "We do not have any form of lubrication," Dean whispered.
Castiel shook his head. "I do not need it. Will you fuck me already?" He rubbed his swollen shaft against Dean's own erection.
The marquis required no more encouragement. His hands sunk into Castiel's ass cheeks. The mercenary took Dean's hard cock in his hands and stroked it languidly a few times. He smeared the pre-cum across the head right before positioning it at his entrance. Dean entered Castiel in one fluid thrust. He pounded deeper and harder into Cas' tight ass. The Frenchman's back hit the wall hard. He did not mind because having Dean fuck him hard and fast like he was doing now was truly worth suffering a bit of pain.
The two men were so caught up in their wild lovemaking; they did not notice two of the Duke of Winchester's lackeys stroll by the alley. One of them was Fergus Crowley, who was half Scottish and resembled a bullfrog. The other lackey was Alistair Gordon, who resembled a reptile and had the personality of a snake. The two men heard moans coming from the dark alley. They imagined an aristocrat taking one of the brothel's harlots for a ride. Their eyes almost bulged out of their sockets, when they saw the duke's heir fucking a man. Crowley and Alistair headed to the ducal mansion to inform their employer of what they witnessed.
Dean panted heavily as he thrust one more time into Castiel. His seed spurted inside his lover. Cas soon climaxed in Dean's hand, who stroked his shaft to bring him to orgasm faster. Dean held on tight to Castiel. "Mine," he whispered in the other man's ear. The two lovers shared a hard open mouth kiss before pulling up their trousers and sitting down against the wall.
"Someone has taken a liking to fucking me," Castiel said chuckling. "When we first met you were so adamant that you were only into women."
Dean breathed normally now. He grinned. "You are irresistible. I was a goner, when I first laid eyes on you."
"The same with me; I have never fallen so hard for someone in such a short period of time."
Dean's eyes became wide. "Was Castiel declaring his love to him?"
The Frenchman realized what he was telling Dean. He stood up and helped his lover rise. "I need to make a quick errand before we set sail. I need to go."
"Will you spend the night with me?" Dean asked. He cursed himself internally. Why was he acting like the female in the relationship? He loathed himself for being so needy when it came to the French mercenary.
"Perhaps, mon couer," Castiel said before disappearing into the dark alley.
Dean chose not to hire a hackney carriage to drive him home. He walked along the deserted London streets. The Phoenix sat on a bench in Hyde Park and gazed at the stars. Tomorrow night at this time he and Castiel would be back in the ocean, where they belonged. Dean planned on never returning to England. The duke can kiss his ass because he would not return even after John's demise. He would have to make one of his cousins the next duke.
Dean began to dose off. He left the bench and headed home. The marquis was about to enter the building, when someone kicked him from behind. Dean landed against the black Iron Gate that surrounded the building he lived at. As luck would have it, the street was devoid of life. Dean glanced to see, who his assailant was. He was not surprised to see his father's two lap dogs.
Dean spat on Crowley's boots. He swiftly stood up and barreled into Alistair. The snake landed hard against the gate. Dean managed to knock the air out of him. He was not given the opportunity to turn around, when Crowley, the fat weasel held him by the neck in a tight chokehold.
Dean stomped on his foot. "Shit, hurry up Alistair! I cannot hold on to the queer."
"Sod off, you fat toad!" Dean bellowed.
Crowley held him by the elbows as Alistair punched him on the stomach about a half dozen times. Dean kicked at him but Crowley shoved him harshly on the floor. The two cronies took turns kicking him on the ribs. Dean protected his head with both arms.
"This is a message from the duke. He does not want a queer for a son. You better stop seeing that man or else," Crowley was unable to continue speaking.
"Or else what?" an extremely mad male voice with a thick French accent asked from the shadows.
Alistair and Crowley stared at the marquis' lover before attacking him. Castiel was ready and pounced on them like a lion. He smashed his palm against Alistair's nose breaking it in the process. The sound of a bone cracking was heard. Blood gushed out of the reptile's nostrils.
Crowley's fist was in midair in front of Castiel's face. The mercenary kicked him in the face. The toad flew a few feet before landing on the ground next to Dean, who held his bruised ribs. Castiel removed a shiny dagger from his inner jacket pocket and carved a line down Alistair's cheek. "No one hurts what's mine. You understand?" The snake nodded his head frantically.
"Touch Dean again and I will not hesitate to carve your stomachs open and remove your intestines. Understood?" Castiel hurled Crowley up and spat in his face. "Did I make myself clear? Sometimes my accent is so thick people have a hard time understanding what I say." He pressed the sharp tip of his dagger into Crowley's bobbing Adam's apple.
Crowley nodded as his large eyes became even wider. "Crystal clear, captain"
Castiel shoved him against Alistair. The two men fell on the ground. "Get the hell out of here!" Castiel bellowed. The two lackeys stumbled as they tried standing.
Dean finally spoke. "By the way, inform the duke he better treat me nice; if not I will not hesitate to tell everyone his secret." Crowley screamed at Alistair to hurry up. They ran and did not look back.
Cas knelt next to Dean. "Can you stand?" He wiped a smear of blood from the corner of Dean's mouth.
Dean nodded slowly. Castiel assisted him in getting up. The Frenchman placed one of the Phoenix's arms across his shoulder and walked inside the building. Dean's ribs were killing him. The journey up the flight of stairs to his bachelor flat was arduous to say the least. Castiel instructed him to take it easy and walk slowly.
Jonathan was already settled in the Impala. So Castiel personally tended to Dean's bruises. "Those are going to look nasty come the morning." He pointed to the purple marks scattered through Dean's torso. "Let me check your ribs." Castiel laid Dean down on the center of his bed. His fingers gingerly felt the injured man's ribs. Dean hissed, when they landed on his right side.
"The good news is you have no broken ribs but it seems four are severely bruised. The pain will not go away for the time being. I will have Anna prepare you a poultice and one of her special teas for the pain."
Lucifer jumped on the bed and curled himself by Dean's feet. "You're staying with me?" Dean asked.
"I am not going anywhere," Castiel replied. He removed his clothes and joined his lover. He gently placed an arm beneath Dean's head. "What did you mean about the duke having a secret?"
Dean remained silent. "You do not have to tell me."
The marquis licked his lips. "I want to. It's just no one knows about this not even Sam, who is like a brother to me."
Castiel stroked Dean's hair. "The night of my mother's death, I overheard a heated altercation between her and the duke. He accused her of committing adultery early in their marriage with a young man she knew before her parents had her marry John."
"Arranged marriages are archaic. Why aristocrats still practice it is beyond me?" Castiel stated.
"Blue blood did not flow through my mother's veins but her father made a massive fortune in the textile industry. The Winchesters were penniless so they arranged a marriage between the future duke and Mary Campbell."
"So your mother had a sweetheart and had to renounce him. That is truly sad."
"She was miserable being married to John and who could blame her. She met the young man in secret and soon became pregnant with me. I heard her accuse John of arranging his murder during the argument. He screamed at her she did not have any proof."
"The duke is not your father then?" Castiel placed his cheek on his hand and leaned his elbow on the mattress.
Dean nodded. "I never discovered my true father's identity. John cannot afford to have the secret of my mother's infidelity which resulted in my birth to be divulged. He has no other heir and will be made a mockery of in society."
"We know how much he thrives on wealth and prestige," Castiel murmured. "I will still have him pay for what he did to my family."
"That is why I always believed he killed my mother in a fit fired by rage. I never believed she fell on her own down the spiral staircase." A tear slid down Dean's freckled cheek.
Castiel licked it and kissed his lover's endearing freckles. "More reason to have revenge on the evil cretin."
"We can avenge our loved ones after we find the treasure."
"As you wish; you can have the title once he expires." Castiel had a forlorn look in his eyes.
"I do not care for the title. If it were up to me I would never set foot on British soil once we leave. I want to be far away from here. England holds too many sad memories for me."
"I understand."
"You do not mind I will no longer be a British noble?" Dean asked as he traced circles on the palm of Castiel's hand.
"I fell in love with the Phoenix not the future Duke of Winchester." He smiled at Dean.
"So he does love me," Dean playfully said.
"Oui, je t'aime avec tout mon couer." Castiel cupped Dean's face and kissed him tenderly.
"Je t'aime aussi," Dean whispered into the kiss. Castiel grinned.
"We need to sleep because we set sail to Jamaica tomorrow," Cas said as he covered the two of them with a quilt. Dean snuggled closer to him and slid an arm across Castiel's hips.