Moon Flower

At first, Azriel’s fingers brushed gently through his hair, and Galen liked the feel of them, like he was being pampered and cared for. Then they tightened as his hips jutted forward, as if Azriel was using his mouth to seek his own pleasure, and the idea aroused Galen so much, he was sure the skin on his own prick was stretched to its limits. Azriel’s thrusts grew more fluid, his breaths more ragged, and Galen loved that he was losing control because of what his mouth was doing to him.

“Touch his bollocks, Galen, pull on them. He enjoys that,” Mr. Blackburn said, and Azriel puffed out a choked breath.

A feeling of possessiveness arose so quickly, Galen’s vision swam. He didn’t like that Mr. Blackburn knew Azriel so intimately, and he nearly gagged at the thought of it.

Only because he’s watched him across the room.

He didn’t know where these emotions were coming from—he certainly hadn’t felt this way about anyone else before—but something about being in this room made everything seem like more. Just…more.

His fingers reached down to Azriel’s bollocks, and he felt the downy hair there before tightening a careful fist around each one and tugging. That apparently drove Azriel insane, because he began chanting nonsensical words and bucking his hips.

Galen was so hard, his cock stood straight out from his belly, but he couldn’t spare it more than a fleeting thought because all he wanted was to please Azriel.

Mr. Blackburn groaned, startling him. “Exactly like that.”

Galen had almost forgotten he was in the room, so lost was he in the task.

Azriel’s thrusts turned erratic, and Galen knew he was close to unraveling in front of his eyes. Azriel’s fingers tightened in his hair, and when he felt Azriel’s seed hit the roof of his mouth, Galen worked to swallow every drop.

Other times, Galen had pulled back, let it slip out the sides of his mouth, but not with Azriel. He wanted to savor him. He wanted Azriel inside him, and the thought frightened him as much as it excited him.

Azriel’s jerky motions slowed, and Galen licked his softened cock as he gradually came to himself.

He swiped at his mouth and stood up, his cock still hard and throbbing, and he fisted it, unable to stop himself from trying to relieve the ache.

“Return the favor,” Mr. Blackburn said, and Azriel didn’t even hesitate to drop to his knees in front of Galen.

Azriel licked the seed that had escaped through his slit, and then took Galen to the back of his throat. Azriel was used to it, obviously—they both were—and an expert by now, but something about being in the hot furnace of Azriel’s mouth made his knees buckle.

He forked his fingers through Azriel’s hair, traced his jaw tenderly with his thumb… He didn’t think he’d ever been so grateful in his entire life. To be given the gift of this moment, to enjoy himself like this, felt surreal.

When Azriel’s lips applied the perfect pressure, color erupted behind his lids that rivaled any he saw with open eyes, and when he spilled into Azriel’s mouth, Galen could’ve sworn angels were dancing around his head.

“You are exquisite together,” Mr. Blackburn told them, followed by an almost reverent, “Thank you.”

Galen came back to himself, and seeing Azriel still on his knees, carefully helped him up. Azriel swiped at his lips, looking as intoxicated as Galen felt, and they leaned on each other for support.

“Would you like some tea?” Mr. Blackburn asked. “I’ll call for some.”

The rest of the evening went much like the one before, and Galen enjoyed himself immensely. In this room, he felt like he could truly be himself. Like they could’ve easily been three lads enjoying themselves in the sitting room of any estate.

But soon enough reality intruded, the evening came to an end, and they returned to their room and climbed into their own beds.

Chapter 17

Galen was in the apothecary, where Madam Langley had put him to work clipping herbs and flowers for the different concoctions. It was similar to how he helped Miss Celestine in the kitchens, and he found the repetitive motions soothing when his thoughts were anything but.

Days had moved into weeks, and Galen had become more comfortable with the gentlemen he courted in the upstairs rooms. And once he was assured that the man who’d hurt him would never be allowed entrance, he was finally able to settle, at least temporarily.

The constable, however, was a constant threat hanging over their heads, and as Galen heard more stories, he’d come to realize how dangerous his visits upstairs were, his temperament unpredictable.

Galen and Azriel had been requested by Mr. Blackburn three additional times, where they’d engaged in more touching with hands and mouths on each other’s pricks. Except for the last time, when they were instructed to stay feet apart until they both spent with their eyes fixed on each other.