Moon Flower

Miss Celestine had come behind them with a tray of tea, and they allowed her to enter first. Even she had trouble meeting their gazes, fleeing the room as soon as the refreshment was placed on the sideboard.

When Azriel closed the door behind them, the constable was already pouring himself a generous cup. He sipped it heartily, the liquid sloshing over his neckcloth, causing him to curse.

Galen handed him the cloth nearest the water basin to dab at the spot, but the constable ignored him, instead flicking his wrist in their direction. “Remove your clothing.”

Having no other option, they helped each other undress, Galen’s fingers feeling thick and numb as they awkwardly shuffled around each other. The constable removed his waistcoat and had his neckcloth off and shirt open as he watched their wooden movements.

“Is this what the other gentlemen have you do?” he asked as he ogled their exposed torsos.

“Yes, sir. Some even…” Galen cleared his throat, attempting to rid his voice of the tinny sound. “Some even have us fuck each other while they watch. Is that what you would like?”

“To watch?” He snorted. “Ridiculous. I will fuck you both…as soon as I have a little rest on the bed.”

They observed as he poured more tea and sat down, with his legs splayed. He fumbled with the placket on his breeches, then reached inside for his cock.

Galen remembered the warning about drinking too much of the moon-flower tea, and no doubt the constable had heard it countless times as well. But he was an arrogant man, and just like Madam Langley’s cautioning him about the love potion, he undoubtedly thought she was being dramatic.

“I will have Azriel first—to finish what we started.” His speech was a bit slurred now, and his state would be to their benefit if his aura turned any darker. Nevertheless, the words had landed like a bomb, making Azriel quake from head to toe.

“Perhaps you might begin with me, sir,” Galen suggested.

“No, I—” Azriel bit back his protest when Galen quieted him with a level hand on his hip.

“He will be worth the wait,” Galen said in a strange voice he barely recognized as his own. He was hoping the constable might fizzle out, given the condition he was in, once done with him.

“Nonsense.” He glowered. “Touch Azriel, get his prick hard. Then join me on the bed.”

They turned to face each other, but it felt wrong, and not at all like it did with Mr. Blackburn. They remained flaccid even as their hands reached out to fondle and caress—more to soothe than anything else. Galen could not concentrate above the hammering of his heart, but he would need to in order to move the evening along. It would not do to anger the constable or have him think they were less than eager, even if the notion of the man touching them in any way made Galen’s skin crawl.

“Let me lick you,” Galen whispered as their eyes met, unspoken words between them, and Azriel nodded. Galen saw the fear in his eyes, and he hoped his touch would bring a measure of comfort.

Down on his knees, he reached for Azriel’s soft prick, kissing the tip, suckling the head. When he felt him beginning to fill, he sighed in relief, wondering if it might help if they focused more on each other during the actual act.

Suddenly Azriel stilled him with a hand to his shoulder. When Galen’s gaze sprang up, Azriel put a finger to his lips, then motioned toward the bed, where the constable was fast asleep. His mouth hung open, his breeches unbuttoned, and his fist had fallen away from his limp cock.

Galen stood gingerly and leaned toward Azriel. “What should we do?”

“Alert Madam Langley,” Azriel replied, his lips brushing Galen’s ear, making him shiver. It was as if all the blood had rushed back into his body now that there was a momentary reprieve from that vile man.

They dressed in silence so as not to disturb his slumber, and Galen prayed that the evening would soon come to an end. Once out of the room, they found Madam Langley pacing in the vestibule, her face a mask of worry.

“What happened?” she asked as they approached, undoubtedly reading their anxious expressions.

“He fell asleep before anything transpired,” Galen replied.

“I wondered as much.” She sighed. “The tea must’ve contributed—to everyone’s benefit.”

They followed her back down the hallway, and Galen could hear the constable’s snores as they approached. Madam Langley told them to wait, and entered the room. They watched through the aperture, and it soon became apparent what she was hoping to accomplish. She placed the oil near him on the bed, along with a cloth she’d dipped lightly in the water basin so it would feel damp. He prayed her trick worked, but he remained nervous all the same. And given the way Azriel stiffly reached for his hand, he must’ve felt similarly.