Welcome Readers and Writers to the 86th My Sexy Saturday!
This week’s theme is A Long Sexy Time and it’s all about those who have loved another for a long time. This love could have started when they were kids, when they were dating or even from afar. The point is that one character has loved the other for what seems like forever. In some stories, it is forever. The possibilities here are endless.
I’m trying to stick with Ardent Fire, though they haven’t known each other very long, so here’s another scene where Morello, who knows plainly how he feels about Benedetto and is not afraid to say so, and Benedetto, for whom things are more complicated. Benedetto is deeply attracted to Morello, and has been since they met, but the murder of his former lover and an attack on the artist’s workshop makes him fearful.
From “Ardent Fire”
Morello said, “I don’t know how I lost you, but I will win you back. I cannot forget how we—”
“Forget me! And you will, you’ll see. There’s a sea of beautiful men waiting for you, Morello. I’m a danger to you. You can’t see because you do not know.”
Morello frowned. “You’re worried about the Officers of the Night?”
The last of his control withered at the reminder. “I’m worried about everything!” He couldn’t stop the rest from tumbling out. “I know nothing about Leo’s murder! What if the killer’s aim was to destroy the workshop? Do you know how hard it was to get that commission? I know of men who have stooped to such baseness to get ahead. Doesn’t that mean you are next?”
The bowl dropped from Benedetto’s fingers, to the table’s edge and teetered there. Morello leaned forward to halt its fall, and caught Benedetto up in his arms, as if he were the bowl in danger of shattering. Benedetto fought, however briefly, and finally let go, relaxed against the other, into the little comfort he did not deserve from this good man.
“There,” Morello said in his ear. “Rest easy. You and I are friends, and I forgot and pushed you too hard in my selfish way again. I wished I could be here for you when we heard Leo was dead, and though my body was in Torrenta, both my heart and soul were here with you.”
The kindness gentled Benedetto’s tormented mind. He sighed and bent his head so he pressed his brow against Morello’s. Strong arms contained him and prevented him from shattering. His head dropped, to rest on Morello’s shoulder. Heart pounding, Benedetto willed there to be more, but the fear had put a wall around his heart.
“You’ve mourned Leo,” Morello murmured in his ear, “for two years, not two weeks, ever since he let you go. He was such a fool.”