Hello, darlings! Today’s teaser comes straight from Much Humping Upon the Moors, er, Victorian England, and is part of my short story “Bully Boys.” This continues on from last week’s tease, and Arthur is about to find out that no matter how much he protests, his body has other ideas about his sexy captor.

Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!

Arthur’s organ twitched, hardening at the man’s low, luring tone. “I’m not your mate. I’m not your anything,” he insisted, wishing he could bring his legs together or at least raise his knees for camouflage. “You’re not even human!”

A flare of anger made his captor’s eyes darken. “I think and reason, just the same as you,” he growled. “Only I can do it in two shapes. That’s more than I can say for you.”

He stood and picked up the jug, pouring hot water into the bowl. “And I have the sense not to wander the alleyways by myself like a foolish pup,” he said, putting the jug down with a thump. “What were you thinking, walking by yourself like that? And not even a penknife on you for defense.”

Arthur blinked at the utterly unexpected scolding. “I was simply trying to get home,” he said defensively. “It wasn’t my blasted fault there was a fire on High Holborn.”

The man grunted. “Well, stay out of the alleys unless I’m with you.”

“You’re not — why are you not listening to me? We are not mates, and I have no idea…why…”

He trailed off as his captor slung the towel onto the bed, stripping off his shirt and revealing the beautifully muscled torso Arthur had seen all too briefly in the alley. Trousers and undergarments followed, revealing that the rest of the man’s body was just as lean and muscular. Arthur tried to look away, but his gaze was drawn to the irresistible sight of the werebeast’s beautifully formed cock, nestled in a halo of black curly hair.

He swallowed. “If you lay even one finger on me, I shall have you arrested,” he said, appalled at the breathlessness in his tone. “Don’t think I won’t!”

The man glanced down at the now-tented blanket over Arthur’s groin and smirked. “That cockstand you’re sporting says otherwise, Mr. Finter. But have it your way.”

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