Honey Cut (Lyonesse Book 2)

Here was the life he was used to; here was the hotel he’d stayed at countless times while visiting Rome. And now that he was in his favorite room, about to have his favorite lunch, everything was suddenly right again. Francis, and it’s beautiful against the rain, the notes melancholy on their own, but even more melancholy from the lips of someone who has not been a channel of the Lord’s peace, who was not able to sow love instead of hatred. Mark seems greedy of the now-lax welcome of Tristan’s postorgasm body, delighted by it, and he fits himself into the wet hole over and over again until finally he stops and pulls free.