I parted my lips, and the priest placed a pale wafer on my tongue. Next came the wine, trickling warmly down the back of my throat. I tried to be sacr...d, to focus on the blood, and the body, and the mystery of transubstantiation. But as I swallowed, all I could think of was Dmitri Caine—of his lips on my hand, his hand on my scarred, bare shoulder. His voice. His eyes. Like frost… I left the chapel as soon as the final blessing was finished. The elements of the Eucharist had awakened my. I trailed my fingers down his chest to his gorgeous stomach, petting his soft treasure trail. I rimmed the waistband of his basketball shorts with my fingers, noticing that he had no underwear underneath. Seeing his shorts hang low, exposing his lean pelvis and v-lines, I ached with longing. I slid his shorts all the way down and breathed deep as my face passed his groin, taking in his teenage essence. As I stood back up, his stiff cock grazed up against my still-contained package, a beckoning. More

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