Page 160 of The Death Wish

‘Bastard! I shall have to punish you.’

‘I should hope so.’ Silas cast the bandalore away, tossing it onto the wing-back chair with its stacked books, waiting for a reader who would never return. Perhaps Silas would begin his new life learning to read; in honour of Lucifer. ‘I have just the punishment in mind. Though I suspect I won’t hate it very much.’

Pitch laughed, turning away. Silas could have bathed in the sound of his happiness.

Which gave him a marvellous idea. He stared unashamedly at Pitch’s glorious arse as he leaned over the bed to rearrange the pillows. ‘Would you mind if we called Forneus back first? I have a request.’

Pitch gave him a quizzical look. ‘He does not have a cock, if you’re hoping for a threesome.’

‘I am not hoping that. I am not sharing you. But I’d like him to draw a bath. Hot as he can make it, and deep.’

He relished the sharp lift of Pitch’s chest. ‘So you might watch me bathe? We know you enjoy a good peep.’

Silas loomed over the prince, for he could still do that well, and pressed him back gently onto the bed. The prince went willingly. Silas braced his hands on either side of Pitch’s head, hungry for him once more. ‘So I might bathewithyou. Lie with you in the water until it is filthy with all we do to each other. This is my new life, after all. I shall start it unafraid.’

‘Dare we believe it?’ Pitch gazed up at him. His eyes had never held such a verdant gleam. ‘That all this is real for us? I’m frightened that if I step outside those doors, there shall be only emptiness, or a cruel illusion.’

Silas kissed his forehead, then drew back so they could both clamber beneath the covers, and find their well-worn places against one another. They lay face to face, legs tangled. ‘Then we don’t step outside. Not until we are both ready. We don’t leave this bed until you are so sick of me making love to you that you beg for escape.’

Pitch laughed. ‘I have remarkable endurance.’

‘I don’t doubt it.’ Silas drew the bedclothes over their heads, so they were both lost beneath warm layers. Into the dimness, he said, ‘But I mean what I say. It is just you and I. For however long we need.’

‘Just you and I.’ Pitch pressed his lips to Silas’s chest. ‘I adore that idea, Mr Mercer.’

‘As do I, Mr Astaroth.’ He traced his fingers through his lover’s hair, and dared to believe what Pitch could not; that this was no illusion. Silas’s heart beat hard and true. ‘Tell me, how should we begin, my love?’

Pitch’s smile was bewitching. He leaned in close and whispered his desire; and Silas learned at long last what it was to be truly alive.

THE END