Bound by Deception also available in
The Bound Series paperback edition
Bound by Deception — Novella
The Bound Series, Book #1
Regency-set BDSM M/M erotic romance
Release date: 02/13/2017
Word count: 24,000
ISBNt: 978-1-37063-566-5
Available now at:
Amazon Kindle
Amazon Kindle UK
Barnes & Noble Nook
Kobo
iBooks
Smashwords
Audio: Audible
Audio: Amazon
Audio: iBooks
Audio CD: Amazon
Awards:
-Tied for 2nd place in the novella category of RWI's 2009 More Than Magic contest
-Finalist in the historical fiction category of the 2009 Rainbow Awards
Story Behind the Story - for behind the scenes info on the book
Lord Oliver Marsden has a secret. He's been in love with his childhood friend for years, though Vincent's never shown an interest in him beyond friendship. Ruggedly handsome, wealthy, and successful, Vincent is everything Oliver is not. And above all, Vincent doesn't prefer men.
Then Oliver discovers Vincent hires a man during his visits to a London brothel. Desperate to be with Vincent, Oliver orchestrates a deception, switching places with the brothel's employee. When Oliver arrives at the bedchamber, he's in for another surprise. Restraints and a leather bullwhip? Apparently Vincent isn't as conservative as he appears.
Lord Vincent Prescot has a secret of his own. One kept locked away and only indulged on the first Thursday of every month. But this month's appointment is different. The mysterious man is so perfect, so beautiful in his submission, rousing protective instincts Vincent can't deny. And to make matters worse, Vincent actually kisses him. Yet Vincent refuses to believe he might truly prefer men, for it could mean the end of his hopes of earning his father's respect.
Will betrayal destroy them or will they be bound together by deception?
Note: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: BDSM theme and content, including bondage and spanking, and male/male sexual practices.
© Ava March
"What is your name, man?"
His head snapped back to Vincent. His mind went blank. Why hadn't he thought to select a name before now? "Jake," he blurted, giving his childhood dog's name. The one who had never learned to sit on command.
His strides long and easy, Vincent stepped further into the room. "Jake, why are the candles not lit?"
"I prefer it this way," he said, pitching his voice low and doing his best to match the servant girl's accent. "Is it acceptable to ye, milord? It's not completely dark. The fire is lit."
"I could be persuaded to accept it." Stopping at the dresser, Vincent selected one of the leather cuffs. Metal clinked as he undid the buckle. "I don't recall Delacroix ever mentioning a man named Jake."
"I'm new."
"How new?"
"You're my first client."
Vincent's hands stilled as he toyed with the buckle. His posture stiffened with obvious uncertainty.
"I want to do this. I want ye, milord," Oliver said, desperate for Vincent to accept him.
Metal clinked once again. "I like the way you call me 'milord'. Very nice. Tell me, Jake, are you good at following orders?"
"Y-Yes."
"Then we shall get along very well, you and I. Come here."
Forcing his hand to unclench from the back of the chair, Oliver did as he was bid. He stopped before Vincent, close enough to take in the man's enticing scent. Not a hint of cologne, only clean male skin, the starch from his cravat and something else, something undeniably Vincent. The golden glow from the fire behind Oliver barely reached where they stood, providing just enough light for him to make out Vincent's rugged features from his shadowed face. The slightly Roman nose, the strong jaw and firm lips. Lips Oliver wanted to feel against his own.
Though he couldn't see the details in the sparsely lit room, he knew Vincent's eyes were so startlingly blue they would have appeared feminine in a less masculine face. And those gorgeous eyes were currently sweeping up the length of Oliver's body. He quickly bowed his head, using the length of his dark hair to partially obscure his face from Vincent's probing gaze.
"You're in need of a shave."
Why hadn't it occurred to him that the days-old beard would annoy Vincent? "My apologies, milord."
"There's nothing to be done for it now." He paused. "Remove your breeches," Vincent said, as casual as could be.
Careful to keep his head bowed, Oliver tore at the placket with shaking hands, shoved his breeches down and kicked them free of his legs. His cock jutted from his body, arching toward Vincent in a silent but very obvious plea to be touched. He was completely naked, yet Vincent hadn't even removed his coat.
The man was impeccably dressed, as usual. His coat appeared to be black, though it could be navy given the yellow silk waistcoat. The crisp white cravat was tied in a perfect Gordion knot, the ends secured by the jade pin. Dark trousers hung straight down his legs, the hems brushing the tops of his polished evening shoes.
"Hold out your arm."
Oliver hesitated. His arm trembled as Vincent buckled the cuff around his wrist. Loose enough not to pinch but tight enough to be secure. The leather was pliant and warmed from Vincent's grip.
As he placed the second cuff on Oliver's other wrist, he asked, "Have you been restrained before?"
"No."
"Nervous?"
"A bit," Oliver admitted, his voice wavering. There was no point denying it. He shook like a damn leaf, from nerves, from excitement, from being naked and close to Vincent.
"There's no need." Vincent's tone softened, turned reassuring. "If you wish to stop at anytime simply give the word. I'll take care of you, Jake, and it is critical you trust me to do so."
Oliver nodded.
"Good. Now get in place."
He swallowed hard. His cock bobbing with each step, he moved directly beneath the chained iron bar.
"Lift your arms."
Oliver didn't give himself time to think on it. He raised his arms until his hands brushed the cool metal chains. Chin down, he watched under his lashes as Vincent approached. There was no hurry in his step, no impatience. The man moved as if tying up another was a common occurrence.
Vincent stopped beside him. The fabric of his coat shifted as he reached up to secure Oliver's wrists. Through sheer force of will, Oliver resisted the urge to watch. He kept his gaze on the dresser in front of him. The tail end of the leather bullwhip hung from the neat coil, grazing the side of the dresser. The firelight flickered on the oil-filled, glass bottle and cast shadows over the other objects. Would Vincent use every one of those objects on him? Or would he choose depending on his mood? Or on how well Oliver followed orders?
Would he have to be good or bad for Vincent to paddle his arse?
Copyright © 2008 Ava March
"Bound by Deception is a well-written, steamy book that I gobbled up in one sitting. I would recommend it to those who like historicals, erotica, and/or have a place in their heart for some BDSM." - Reviews by Jessewave
"...I was impressed both by the writing, and the research that the writer had obviously done.... Lovers of hot erotica will enjoy this a lot, and I'll be watching eagerly for Ms March's next work." - Speak Its Name
"The complex nature of the characters, their situation, the setting and really passionate sex lead to an excellent story and I found myself hoping for more of these two in the future. This is a story to be read repeatedly on a chilly night as it's guaranteed to heat you thoroughly." - Rainbow Reviews
"Bound by Deception is fantastic! I loved both the heroes and I enjoyed this story immensely..." - Joyfully Reviewed
"Ava March brings a touch of history wrapped up in a bullwhip and chains in Bound by Deception. I loved both of these characters. Ms. March has written a wonderful historical novel filled with steamy skin tingling scenes, and just enough action outside of the bedroom to create a page-turner." - Literary Nymphs
"The angst was wonderful, the sex was hot, the characters were fully realized, even in a short story." - Dear Author