Darkness filled the vast room—moonlight draping on the furred carpets and the soft edge of the gentle blanket. Night has come, but the warmth of the day lingered within the orange light of the wall lamps. A candle-lit dimness engulfs the threshold.
And bathed by that warm glow, two bodies, half-bare, held each other. Lying on the massive bed. Skin glistening from sweat and the dear light of the moon. As silver eyes lower to their interlocked hands, his breath became slow and steady. The rapid pace of breathing had finally disappeared, and he was resting his head on Lord Hercullio's hard chest. Letting his own lithe figure be embraced and caressed gently.
"Tired?" Golden eyes lower to absorb the alluring expression of his lover. Hadrian slowly inhaled the youth's scent. A drive of possessiveness arising from within the depths of his heart.
Moulin shook his head and replied with a chuckle, "No..."
