Page 21 of A Winter Awakening

Perhaps Gael was. After all, he hadn’t realised he hadn’t loved the woman he’d been engaged to for years.

So maybe he could be this naive.

“Could you help me?”

Orteo looked up at Gael.

Harpy’s tits.

With an iron will, Orteo kept his face blank.

Gael had unbuttoned his trousers. They hung open, revealing his drawers and the bulge beneath.

From this position, it would be so easy for Orteo to reach into Gael’s trousers, tug his cock from his drawers, and take it into his mouth.

“It’s hard to get my trousers off.” Gael laughed. “Can you help me get them off?”

Orteo drew in a slow breath. “Yes,” Orteo said, keeping his voice level. “I can help you do that.” He stood.

Orteo studied Gael’s face, looking and hoping for any hint that this could be something more than just helping Gael wash.

But Gael gave him a lopsided smile. No lust or desire burned in his eyes. Gael gave no indication that this was a sexual invitation.

Orteo bit back his yearning and reached out. He slid the trousers down Gael’s legs. Gael placed a warm, firm hand on his shoulder for balance. Inch by inch, Orteo pulled the trousers down, revealing Gael’s toned legs with a little fuzz. Orteo lowered himself to his knees.

Now Orteo knelt in the perfect position to suck Gael’s cock. His mouth watered. But Gael didn’t seem to notice. He lifted his feet, out of the trousers, careful of the injured ankle.

Then he released Orteo’s shoulder and turned to grab a sheet to put by the fire. It would make it easier to clean up the water afterwards.

Cock aching, Orteo let out a breath and moved away. Gael laid the sheet by the fire, and he knelt on it, turning his back to Orteo.

“I can wash my front,” Gael said. “But could you wash my back?”

Orteo rubbed his hand over his face. This was torture. “Of course.”

He pulled the bucket closer to Gael. They each took a washcloth and dipped it into the heated water. He ran the wet cloth over Gael’s back, watching the water trickle down his skin. It glistened in the firelight.

Gael moaned. “That feels so good.”

Orteo clenched his teeth, ignoring the throbbing of his cock.

As he washed Gael’s slender back, the water soaked into the man’s drawers. Orteo’s breathing increased as the outline of Gael’s arse cheeks became visible.

“I can just feel the dirt, sweat, and grime washing off.” Gael washed his underarms. “It feels so good to be clean,” he said, voice so light and cheery, completely unaware of the agony he put Orteo through.

Orteo washed Gael’s lower back, back and forth along that tantalising skin.

He wanted to slip his hand beneath Gael’s drawers and squeeze those cheeks. He wanted to bend Gael over. Rub his thumb against Gael’s entrance. He wanted to taste his hole, get him wet and slick, and then shove his cock inside and fuck him hard.

No. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth until they ached. He had to get a hold of himself. He needed to get a hold of his desire.

Even if he were to suggest such a thing to Gael, to do so now would be wrong. Gael was injured and practically naked in front of Orteo because he trusted Orteo. If he did anything now, he’d be taking advantage of Gael in his vulnerable and innocent state.

And he didn’t want to move and make a mistake. Because as much as he wanted Gael, he valued their connection. He’d not had anything close to a friend in years.

He wiped the rest of Gael’s skin, trying to ignore the urges burning through his body, demanding satisfaction.

At some point, Gael stood, putting his weight on one leg. Orteo ignored the arse in front of his face as he quickly washed Gael’s legs, careful of the ankle.