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    Summary

    Quentin does as he’s told, walking mechanically to the comfortable chair in the corner, tucking his knees up and flipping through the pages of the book, his dick twitching as he looks through the spells, which are all accompanied by very graphic illustrations of positions and firsthand accounts of the ‘pleasures of the body.’ By the time Eliot’s done with his shift, Quentin is almost uncomfortably hard, and he’s pliant when Eliot takes him by the hand. He slings his messenger bag over his front and clutches the book to his chest.

    “Ready, sweet thing?” Eliot takes him by the hand, and Quentin just looks down at his feet. “You pick something out?”

    "I think so."

    “Speak up,” Eliot says. “And look at me.”

    It’s silly how the image of a king sticks with him, how it springs into Quentin’s mind when he meets Eliot’s gaze. Regal and commanding, making Quentin feel like a serving boy or a villager. “Yes. I chose. One of the first ones. Seems simple.”

    “Some of them are surprisingly complex. And we don’t really know each other,” Eliot whispers. “You sure you want this?”

    Quentin nods, sheepish.

    “I’m taking off, Kady,” Eliot calls, “after I finish helping this customer.”

    Series
    Language:
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