Gryphen loved the way he was staring at him as he tried desperately to figure out what was going on.
This was a fantasy of his own.
When Ian would walk around the White House dressed like this, Gryphen would watch him. Even then, he was attracted to him.
He’d pick up a whiff of his cologne, or get close to him, and he’d think about how much he’d love to just touch him.
And now, he could.
It was in that moment that Gryphen realized something huge. He’d fallen for Ian back then. Those moments at the White House had been the beginning of what would be their romance.
Somehow, Ian found the words.
“Our agreement, Lord Carter?” he asked, his dick throbbing between his legs as he even called him that.
Jesus.
This man knew how to make a fantasy come to life. He’d never told him this was one of his, but Gryphen nailed it. He wanted to be used by this strong, powerful man.
With a wave of his hand, Ian moved closer, and put his glass down on the table.
“I’m sure you remember the agreement,” he stated. “It’s the one where you give yourself to me for my pleasure for one evening.”
Ian blinked.
Oh, holy fuck.
Gryphen was giving him a memory that he’d have forever. Who gets to have sex with a Lord in a castle in their life?
Apparently, him.
Sign him up.
Because he hesitated, Gryphen gave him an out.
“Have you changed your mind, Mr. Patterson?” he asked, picking up the wine and taking a sip. It coated his tongue and tickled his tastebuds.
Oh, this was a problem.
Ian looked delicious, the wine was readily available, and already, Gryphen wanted nothing more than to get drunk on both of them.
It was going to happen.
He could bet on it.
How did he know?
He was watching Ian, and his erection was straining against his dress pants. His man was aroused, and they were going to play out this game.
He’d bet on it.
“No, my Lord,” Ian said, wanting to give Gryphen the fantasy too.
His mind was made up.
He was all in.
“Our negotiations were clear. You have me for tonight, and one day in the future, I get to have you.”