Page 4 of The Mage’s Rake (Catkin Trilogy #2)

Then he was in. The stretch burned, but it also made me feel so complete.

After a few seconds, Hugh withdrew a little and then thrust in again.

This time, I felt it all the way to my marrow.

I threw my head back and moaned as my skin lit on fire.

Whatever raged within Hugh now spread to me, and I responded instinctively, like a wild creature.

Hugh set the rhythm, and my heartbeat to the thrum of desire that built between us.

With each rising peak, I writhed and begged for more.

Hugh picked up the pace, letting me feel every inch of him.

His head slammed into that sweet spot I’d heard about but never understood. It drove me wild.

Hugh’s fingers closed about my leaking cock.

His thumb flicked along its length, teased its slit, and drove me over the edge.

Finally, I reached the pinnacle. I could feel it rushing through me.

I came over and over again in Hugh’s hands even as he gave over to the inner beast of the rut.

He fucked me into the mattress with deep thrusts that had me sobbing with building pent-up desire all over again.

This time, I could barely come, but as I arched back, giving a startled half-shriek, I came once again and clenched around Hugh as he filled me with his cum.

Before I could protest, Hugh pulled out.

I could feel stickiness oozing from my ass.

The thought of how wrecked I must be had me feeling hot all over again.

It was as though I had somehow joined Hugh in whatever mindless throes of desire he had entered.

For now, however, we were both contented to curl up together on the soiled sheets and doze.

In a little while, Hugh would probably wake for another round.

I smiled with satisfaction. I would be ready for him. I couldn’t wait.

The sky was filled with light, piercing the thin line between my room’s curtains.

The sun had risen when I finally stirred beside Hugh.

Doused in heavy sleep after his long night of fucking, Hugh was passed out half on top of me.

I slowly eased out from beneath him, pulled a sheet up around him, and sat back to watch him sleep.

I was sore, but there was a heavy weight on my limbs that spoke to contentment.

Hugh had made me happy. For the first time ever, I felt like I had truly lived. All thanks to Hugh.

I wondered how I would wake him. With a kiss?

Would he want more? We had ended up joining three times.

Then I had given Hugh another hand job as well in hopes of quelling the heat that surged through him.

The last time we climaxed together, he had passed out well and truly.

As my fingers ghosted over his slowly cooling forehead, I heaved a sigh of relief.

It was over. Hugh was safe. For now, at least. There was the matter of whoever had dosed him and why.

That was a whole other mystery. One I was determined to unravel.

Hugh stirred beside me. I tensed nervously, smoothing back the wild mess that was my hair.

“…Margriet… d-don’t go…”

The words were slurred but distinct enough.

I stiffened at the name. Margriet? His favored lover?

Some molly he had loved in the past? I didn’t know, but I was suddenly hit with the reality of what had happened.

I had helped a friend. Nothing more, nothing less.

Hugh and I were friends if that. There was no way that a single night together could mean anything more. Not to someone like Hugh, at any rate.

He will be grateful and kind, but he won’t see it as anything permanent. And it’s not like I want anything for the rest of my life, right? I wouldn’t want him to—to… My thoughts trailed off. I didn’t want to admit the truth to myself.

This had been my first time. Hugh probably didn’t realize it, and now I was glad I hadn’t told him. All the same, it hurt to hear that name. Hugh wouldn’t be mean, but there would always be others. Compared to all of the mollies and toms that Hugh had taken to bed, I was no doubt unimpressive.

Yes , I realized. It hurts. It hurts because, if truth be told, you wanted it to matter to Hugh as much as it did to you. You want Hugh to see you the way you see him.

Swallowing a lump in my throat, I moved to the privy adjoining my rooms where I found a sponge and some lukewarm water. After sponging myself down, I pulled on fresh robes over my hose and white undershirt. Layers to protect me.

What-what are you hiding under there?

I’m hiding myself , I answered Hugh’s question. It is what I learned to do at the White Tower. It is all that I know.

The White Tower was a mystical place for most people.

Carved into a lone standing upthrust of rocks, the Tower had been home to magical folk for centuries.

It was where young kits, gifted with power, were taken to be raised by their elders.

My life was curtailed by bells, by rules, by restrictive expectations.

It didn’t matter how gifted I was, my life was prescribed by the Elders of the Tower.

Still, I had dreamed. I had dreamed of knights sweeping me off on white horses and carrying me to the horizon.

Beneath my layers of logic and reason and years of study, I harbored a dream.

A kit’s dream, I knew. When I left the safety of the Tower, with its neatly tended gardens, bare furnishings, and austere architecture, I entered a world that was filled with conundrums, puzzles, and difficulties.

Hugh had been the first. The one who had met me at a small town halfway to Rimefrost. Escorting me to the capital, he had pointed things out along the road.

His confident posture, the ease with which he handled his stallion, and the knowledge he held about the greater world easily impressed me.

That, and his kindness. For he had been kind, listening patiently while I awkwardly tried to make conversation with a handsome tom I had never met before.

Since that day, I harbored a fondness for Hugh.

It had guided my decision last night. I was able to help him, but clearly, Hugh was involved with someone else.

I had simply… been there at an opportune moment.

I brushed my long hair and neatly tied it back. Hugh stirred once again among the sheets, sleepily grumbling in protest. I couldn’t help but smile a little though it faded soon enough. I straightened my shoulders and made a vow.

Later today, we will meet, but everything will be as it once was.

It will be as though nothing has happened , I told myself.

I will warn Hugh, and we will talk about what had happened—professionally.

Hugh can never know… He could not know. In one single night, he had changed everything for me, but he hadn’t asked for that.

He had been a victim, and I could hardly burden him with my unnecessary feelings. Feelings fade over time.

They will fade , I told myself grimly. They have to.