Chapter 5

Simon had never previously done anything along those lines in bed, in non-literary life. Ben, somewhat horrified by this revelation, coming as it did afterthey’d bought the cane and first set of handcuffs, had said, “Oh, God, I’ve corrupted an altar boy, I’m so sorry.” Simon had rolled affectionately exasperated eyes at him and said, “I did a lot of reading, you know, before you came along. I do know what I enjoy and also I’m sorry I ever told you about that year, and anyway I was an altar server, we call them servers in the Church of England, honestly, learn your cultural differences.” Then he’d managed to knock a stack of paperbacks off the bedside table with an uncontained elbow. Ben had had to kiss him everywhere after that.

“I want you,” he said, hands resting on slender shoulders over blue fuzzy wool. “Now. Here. And always, but definitely now. Mouth, please.”