Just for a fleeting split second his mind let go of its desperate chant: Nobody can hear me here, and replaced it with a glorious, admirable, proud: Morituri te salutant.

Ciaran O. Dwynvil

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Ravishment of this slender body in all ways possible before draining it of the life substance? Aren't you a pleasure hoarder, my dear?

Ciaran O. Dwynvil

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Later, he would ask later who Attila was. Now he only wanted Belial's kiss. His heat. His passion. A quick gallop. Frenzied eternity. Insanity multiplied. A perfect, mind-numbing, bone-shattering small death. He wanted it all. Now. Now. Now.

Ciaran O. Dwynvil

Mots clés fantasy gay erotic paranormal

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