Playing With Fire (16 page)

Heat soared between them, Sartis’ eyes fastened onto his. Oh, he could drown in those eyes, so hot despite the icy color. He pushed his moans into Sartis’ mouth, shuddering as the pleasure worked through him. Sartis’ hand came up, curled around his neck, tugged him close.

“Love you,” he whispered into Sartis’ mouth, knowing it to be true, more true than anything he’d ever known.

“Oh. Oh, my prince.” Sartis moaned into his lips, heat spreading between them. “My love.”

He cried out, his own come spraying from him. He collapsed onto Sartis, breathing heavily, holding on. Sartis cuddled close, soft kisses brushing his face.

“What happens next, Wintras?”

“We rest and build up your strength. Replenish the castle stores. Finish the repairs and make sure our defenses are strong. I don’t know if the firefaeries and Zujan will be back, but your Mam seemed to think they would be.” He stroked Sartis’ skin, looked into the beloved face, scarcely believing he’d ever hated this beautiful sorcerer. “If they do, we’ll be ready for the fight.”

Sartis cuddled, settled. “Yes, my prince. We will.”

He held Sartis close, feeling warm and safe and good. He was happy, home.

He’d come here for revenge, to hurt Zujan only to find that Zujan as he’d known him no longer existed, had already been defeated and everything he wanted and needed and desired had been left behind in a pale, cool package that only he could warm with the fires of passion that burned inside him.

Fate certainly had a way of changing your plans.

About the Author

Often referred to as “Space Cowboy” and “Gangsta of Love” while still striving for the moniker of “Maurice”, Sean Michael spends his days surfing, smutting, organizing his immense gourd collection and fantasizing about one day retiring on a small secluded island peopled entirely by horseshoe crabs. While collecting vast amounts of vintage gay pulp novels and mood rings, Sean whiles away the hours between dropping the f-bomb and pursuing the kama sutra by channeling the long lost spirit of John Wayne and singing along with the soundtrack to
Chicago
.

A long-time writer of complicated haiku, currently Sean is attempting to learn the advanced arts of plate spinning and soap carving sex toys.

Barring any of that? He’ll stick with writing his stories, thanks, and rubbing pretty bodies together to see if they spark.

Find Sean on the web at
www.seanmichaelwrites.com
.

Books by Sean Michael

Sealed With a Kink

Plugs
Pushy Bottom
Pony Play
Shaving
Sounds
Service
Boy

Drawing Straws

Erik
Joe
Tork
Damon

Standalone Books

In Time of Need
Breaking Cover
Royal Flush
Totally Covered
The Dog Next Door
Guardian Angel
Guns, Leather and Tinsel

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