That night, Cillian and Malo lay in each other’s arms, on top of thick covers, dripping with sweat. The open windows did nothing to cool the room but they didn’t seem to notice the oppressive heat. A single candle lit the room from the opposite corner from the bed.
Cillian rested his head on Malo’s shoulder and toyed with the king’s c**k.
“I don’t think I can go any more now, Cillian,” Malo said, chuckling. “Although I would like to make love you all night long.”
Cillian smiled. “I’m just glad I get to have you for myself for a while.” His mind raced, trying to decide the best way to address the fears Pepys had elicited in him earlier.
“I have to return to my castle tomorrow,” Malo said without preamble.
Cillian sat up, staring down at Malo, who averted his eyes. “When did you decide
