Page 54 of Seducing the Sorcerer
“You want it bad, don’t you?” Fenn said. “I do too. Ain’t no shame in it, you know; you wanting it rough. Plenty do. Makes me want you more.” He leaned down and said in Morgrim’s ear, “I like being in charge.”
Morgrim shut his eyes. “Gods.” His voice shook.
“You don’t have to worry about after. Won’t tell anyone.”
“I never thought you would.”
“Just saying,” Fenn murmured.
He slid his fingertips down the outside of Morgrim’s arm. His robe was silky, warm, damp from all the drizzle. Could it be that Morgrim was naked underneath? Except for his knee-high red boots? God’s fucking balls. Maybe.
“Fenn,” Morgrim said in his ear.
“Aye?”
“Gods—look, if it was just sex. But it’s not.”
Fenn was trembling with lust. Stopping was the last thing he wanted to do. He was aching to grab Morgrim by the hips and drag him close, to have him right there on the cobbles in the rain. He wanted Morgrim at his mercy. Not in spite of who he was but because of it: Morgrim the sorcerer, all power and danger. To have him naked and writhing and begging to be taken would be the most glorious submission imaginable.
“There are things I haven’t told you,” Morgrim said.
Fenn brushed a fingertip across Morgrim’s bare knuckles. Fenn’s hand was twice the size of Morgrim’s. He engulfed Morgrim’s fist in his own.
“You don’t say. I got things myself.” I’ve done time. In prison. Been meaning to tell you. “Don’t matter. We’re talking about you and me having it away in the stables, not some state treaty.”
“Yes, but it’s not as simple as it sounds. Because there’s magic involved.”
Fenn gave a small internal sigh. Clearly, there were to be no short-cuts. Morgrim had scruples. And that was infuriating just now, but wasn’t it also admirable?
“All right,” Fenn said, stepping back. “Magic. You tell me, then. But at least come in out of the wet.”
Fenn turned and opened the door to the second stall. If things went the way he wanted—and they likely would, or why would Morgrim have come—it would be better to get down to business without a great sacking lump breathing down their necks. He took Morgrim’s wrist to pull him into the stall. “You’re all atremble.”
“I don’t usually do things like this.”
Inside, Fenn put the lantern in the corner, nestling it into the straw so it threw a soft, dim light. He was afire with a passion so fierce and so tender it almost took his breath away. Because while Morgrim was so educated and worldly, clearly he was not experienced in everything. And Fenn was desperate to make it easy for him, to make it plain that he could have what he wanted and need feel no shame. Morgrim stood in the straw with his arms crossed, wet hair limp on his shoulders, biting his bottom lip in a way Fenn had never seen before. The temptation to kiss him was immense.
“Come on then, out with it,” Fenn said. “What’s magic got to do with this?”
“All this. You and me. You understand it’s not a coincidence, don’t you?”
Fenn frowned. “What?”
“The horse. It brought you here.”
“And?”
“Do you think that was chance?” Morgrim rubbed his forehead as if it ached. “Gods, I can scarcely tear myself away from you. Ever since you arrived I just...want to be with you. All the time.”
Fenn’s jaw dropped. “Me and all,” he said, wonderingly.
“But what if that’s not luck? You were brought. By magic. So, what if we’re pawns of some spell? Like the good-fellowship spell on the mustering ground.”
Fenn felt as if he’d been doused in cold water. He glanced over to the stall where the worple horse was dozing, only its withers and rump visible. He considered it. Its habits, its presence, its personality.
He almost burst into laughter.
“You ain’t suggesting old Squab is some sort of puppet-master?” Fenn could feel his lips twitching. “Or gives off an aphrodisiac?” He started to smile, coughed instead to hide it because Morgrim still looked white and tense and serious as a bloke paying his taxes. Fenn added, “Aye, all right. It’s a fair point. I was brought. You did right to mention it. But that horse ain’t dangerous. Silly, I grant. Stubborn, sometimes. But it ain’t mean. Trust me. I know horses.”
