Page 3 of The Mage’s Rake (Catkin Trilogy #2)

Alan

H ugh. What in the hells is wrong with you?

The thought echoed in my mind over and over again as his lips assailed mine.

Ser Hugh Starr, the king’s right-hand catkin and the commander of his guard, was a knight brave and true.

He was renowned for his loyalty to King Landis, his care and protection of the Crown.

Certainly, he had made a name for himself in the King’s court as being somewhat of a rogue.

In matters of the heart, Hugh was criminally liberal with his intentions.

A rake , Aileen had warned me. Best stay away from that kind of tom, Alan. A rake is what he is. Hugh is a good tom, but deep down, I fancy he has his shadows. They drive him in the worst kind of way. That’s what she told me. It was hard to remember it in the moment.

As a sheltered young tom plucked from the confines of the White Tower, I hadn’t known what a rake was.

Not really, at any rate. I had only known the variety one might use in gardening or landscaping.

A dive into my favored dictionary clarified what Aileen had meant.

Hugh gave his physical attentions to all…

freely. There was a pang in my heart as I pushed the thick dictionary back onto my shelf.

Usually reading a bit of the dictionary would help, but not on that day.

Hearing the truth about Hugh hurt for some reason.

It hurt my heart even now to watch him move from group to group, dallying with anyone who would give him attention.

And many gave him attention. It wasn’t just his station either, or his position.

There was an easy, carefree manner about Hugh that drew a cat in.

And he was easy on the eyes. Tall, bronzed, and muscular, Hugh always looked a picture of health.

His reddish-brown hair hung in waves. Tonight, he had drawn his longer, curly locks into a low ponytail at the back of his neck.

From the top of his well-styled hair to his neatly trimmed, light auburn tail, and his polished dragonhide boots, Hugh looked incredibly dashing.

When I approached him, I ended up scolding him.

I couldn’t stop myself. Was I so selfish and cold-hearted I wished him to feel as terribly as I did?

I couldn’t help but wonder at myself. I didn’t like how the mirth in his light golden-brown eyes faded at the sight of me.

When our conversation ended, I fled to the other side of the room and took care not to bump into him again. I didn’t wish to make Hugh unhappy.

But as the night waned, I felt more and more exhausted. I wanted to leave, but I also wished to say something to Hugh. What exactly, I did not know. It was utter lunacy.

As the party dragged on, though, I realized that Hugh was looking more distracted than usual. He left the room, barely making it down the staircase. I slipped down the other side and hesitated in the shadows. A young molly had also followed us, but a voice called her away from the door.

Now Hugh was alone. As I approached him, I realized that something was wrong.

For one thing, Hugh was absently tearing at his collar as though he were choking.

I could see from the dazed look in his eyes that he had been beset with some fever.

I called his name and found myself assaulted with a bruising kiss.

At first, I protested. This was really not how gentletoms behaved, much less a High Mage of the White Tower.

Then, Hugh’s scent hit me—leather, hay, sunshine, and apple blossoms.

Gods. He smelled so good. A small part of my brain was screaming at me something about vapors of the flesh, but I didn’t care.

I surrendered to the domination of his lips, letting his tongue sweep in and claim my mouth for its own.

I nearly swooned but managed to somehow keep myself upright as we staggered up against a wall.

When the kiss ended, some sense returned, but it was clear to me that what had happened to Hugh could not be stopped. I had an idea about what that was, but now was not the time to review my theories. Hugh needed care. The theoretics would be dealt with later.

Desire thrummed through Hugh, and it took everything in me to get us to the rooms that Lady Brockhurst had set aside for me. If it wasn’t for the intricacy of my robes, Hugh would have stripped me down and fucked me on Brockhurst’s hallway carpet right then and there.

And I wouldn’t have cared.

Just the thought made my skin prickle. My fingers trembled as I worked desperately to unfasten the clips of my robes, the buttons, and the hooks.

Throughout it all, Hugh tore off his clothing with practiced haste and proceeded to get in my way.

Somehow, I managed to strip down to my loose undershirt and hose.

Hugh picked me up, tossed me in bed, and pinned me down, rutting into my backside wildly.

Rutting. Hugh. Gods. I just needed to get to my bags where one of my oils could come of use.

Groaning and gritting my teeth, I managed to smack Hugh hard enough to push him off me temporarily.

I dragged myself out from under him, snatched one of the oils from my overnight pack, and returned to the bed.

Despite being a little stunned, Hugh’s body writhed in torment.

“A-Alan…” He groaned.

Hearing my name on his lips said in that breathy, needy way sent shocks down to my cock.

That, and the sight of Hugh lying naked before me.

My gaze drifted upward from well-turned ankles corded tendons that led to firm muscle.

Firm muscular thighs, a thick, engorged cock, a toned belly, and the hard planes of well-developed chest muscles.

Hugh’s anatomy was glorious. When Nylia the Goddess of Fertility joined hands with Sola the Sun God, they had made a tom worthy of worship.

My gaze trailed back down. Hugh’s hands, broad and rough, were now bunched up among the sheets. I wanted to feel them on me again. I knew he would want it as well.

“Hugh,” I said, trying to keep my voice as calmly as I could.

I pressed close. He turned, his eyes heavy with desire. Rolling onto his side, he pulled me to him, placing his hands on my lower back and kneading me gently just above the root of my tail. I groaned and bucked under his touch.

“Why… the hells are you still dressed?” He rasped out in confusion. “I need you now, Alan.”

Hugh’s breath ghosted on my cheek. With practiced ease, he flipped me onto my back and proceeded to rip through my white undershirt as though it were made of spiderwebs.

My heart was hammering with intense desire as my hips arched, grinding my hidden arousal against his swollen leaking head.

Hugh grinned and proceeded to tug my hose and small clothes off my narrow hips.

I flushed a little as he stilled. He was looking at me from head to toe.

I bit my lip and beat back the shame. Would he hate what he saw?

I peeked up at Hugh. There was something unusually soft in his look.

I forced myself to drop my arms to my sides.

Crossing them over myself was just insanity at this stage.

There was the raging desire from whatever rut he had been sent into, but there was also something else in his look that I could not name.

For the first time, it seemed like Hugh was coming back to himself.

He leaned down slowly. This time, his kiss was as soft as a butterfly.

The potion bottle fell from my hands, and I found myself drawing him in for a long kiss.

Hugh’s lips were demanding and hard, but I could feel the restraint in there also.

Hugh had entered some kind of induced rut, but he was no mindless beast.

This is Hugh. My heart skipped a beat at the realization. The tom I have long wanted to call friend… and something else. But if I can have this moment, that will be enough. Thank you, Hugh. For looking at me the way you did, even if it is just like how you look at everyone else.

After the kiss, Hugh proceeded to press more kisses on my fevered skin, from head to toe.

His tongue teased my nipples. They felt so sensitive beneath his touch and hardened like rocks even as his teeth gently nipped at them.

Then, his lips moved further down, tracing lazy, moist trails to my throbbing cock.

He palmed my erection, gently kneading my balls, and enjoying my intermittent squeaks.

I didn’t want to make any noise, but Hugh was determined to make me scream.

I groaned instead, fighting against the teasing touch of his fingers along my shaft.

Satisfied that I was as ready as he was, Hugh prepared me with the oils.

We were now entering foreign territory for me.

I had never gotten this far before, but I wasn’t about to tell Hugh that.

Hugh needed this. Whoever had done this to Hugh had sent him into heat.

Hugh needed to complete inside me. A few times.

I knew this, drew in a breath, and braced myself for the intrusion of his cock.

Hugh was well-endowed, but I believed I could do it. I wanted it.

Angling my hips, I wrapped my legs around him and groaned as he slowly filled me, inch by fukken inch. Gods. Hugh. I’m so full. I must have said the last aloud, for Hugh growled in response.

“You want it?”

“I want it,” I whispered back.