Steven Macklin wakes up in a ditch one morning in foul, wet weather with no idea where he is or how he came to be there. Seriously injured, he struggles across bleak heathland to find shelter. The only house he finds is weather-beaten and deserted, although he's too sensible a guy to fall for the cliche of a haunted mansion.<br><br>Isn't he?<br><br>When he collapses and is taken in by the handsome Eliot, Steven finds himself in a very disturbing situation -- and  in the bed of this strange, possessive man.

His Gift

“Steven, lie back and open your legs. I want to show you what pleasure I’m going to take from you. What pleasure I’m going to giveyou. I want to touch inside of you—make you cry out with it.”


I did just that. It was as if I watched some other man, some other time and place. But it was really me. Me, a man who dropped quickly to the sheets, spreading his legs wide and high, offering himself up to the other. I felt a shiver of lust creep from my balls to my arse. I felt it tease at my hole, encouraging it to throb, to ache. The muscles clenched and relaxed, and the pucker begged for a touch. I had never felt such a way before in my life.


His hand stroked over my side, but there was no longer any pain from my wound. I tried to remember if it had been troubling me when I woke up, or whether these hot caresses were just distracting me now.


I tried to remember anything at all, but all I could concentrate on was him


Chapter 9