Colo

Master of the House of the Saints.

“Look at him. Can you see? Is he not so very beautiful?

“See the chin. The jawline, hard and straight. I can only say it is the chin of a man, knowing you will know what I mean if you have ever held a man, or loved a man as I have.

“His head is shaved but for the final quarter inch. See the red-gold burn of summer across his scalp, and the steel-ice fuzz of the hair.

“See the blue of his eyes. Cornflower blue, or the blue of porcelain.

“See the pink of his lips. Lips meant for smiles and laughter. Lips meant for kissing, and loving. See as his tongue wipes light onto the rose-pink flesh of those lips, and feel your body preparing, as he looks at you, for the gifts he is about to bestow.

“A tingle to the cock. He hasn’t touched you, but the look of him tells you everything that he intends.

“See the knot of the robe slip free. The skin of him. The golden skin of him. Every hard line. Muscle bunched at his chest and abdomen, ripples of muscle, an avalanche of muscle from his throat to his cock. Feel it weight you to the sheets, yet, again, before he has touched you. Know yourself, becoming aroused. Feel the blood in your veins as it warms.”