As enchanted roughneck Peregrine Varga opens himself both physically and spiritually to the well-endowed Brother Mateus of the mysterious Temple Bratuns, his troubled past with Hangiri Industries handsome and unscrupulous executive clone Lèandre Anandi Bruhn is brought to light. Will illuminating the heartbreaking memories of his time in Lèandre’s control free Peregrine from Finn’s curse or will Iker Macauley lose his best friend with benefits to the erotic shadows of lusty entanglements from the dark past?
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“Sim, meu caro amigo,” Brother Mateus sympathized. “I know it is tempting to keep these bittersweet memories in the shadows. But when exposed to the light, they lose their power. You are among friends now. We will not allow you to be consumed by your darkness. Tell us, please, of this loving and lustful memory with your Master Lèandre.”
The temple, the monks, and even the incomparable sensations of Brother Mateus’ immense cock probing his tender tunnel faded away as Peregrine allowed himself to recall an impossibly romantic afternoon with the man that he once thought he’d spend his life with.
“Ma belle Peregrine!” Lèandre called as he entered the mansion. “Your most ardent admirer is here at your service, and he has brought you flowers.”
“Master Lèandre, they’re beautiful!” Peregrine praised. “The scent is a delight to my senses! What are these ones called again? I am afraid that botany is not one of my strengths.”
“They are called roses, mon amour,” Lèandre replied. “They are beautiful, yes, but their beauty pales in comparison to your heavenly face. Simeon, be a love and put these flowers in a vase. One of the good vases, mind. Do not insult the divine Peregrine by placing them in one of those terribly kitschy items given to me by that ridiculous blood-born nephew of Bone’s. Young Radoslav is dying to fuck me, you know. I’d allow him the pleasure, but he’s a bit…how do I put this kindly? Oh, to hell with it, sometimes forthrightness is best. He’s whiny and clingy.”
“Why do you keep his gifts, Master?” Peregrine inquired, his voice trembling as Lèandre caressed his cock through his trousers.
“Because it brings him joy to give them to me,” Lèandre replied with a shrug. “Ma belle Peregrine, I am not a brute. Perhaps one day we could fuck him together. Give him a thrill so his efforts aren’t all in vain, you know. I would have to talk to Bone first, suggest that he has a little chat with his nephew, make the young fellow understand that a good fuck is not a promise of forever. He’s a nice enough chap, Radoslav, but a bit dull. Not like you, mon tendre. The light from your brilliant soul shines like the brightest star in the night sky.”
Peregrine wished he and Lèandre could remain forever in the strawberry-flavored kiss that followed his lustful words.
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The Icky, Sticky, Nit-Picky Legalese If You Please (Or Don't Please)
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