THE wood of the dark oak table was cold against the skin of Jaife’s partly exposed back but Tiras was warm inside him. It was a wonderful feeling to be stretched apart, the soreness slowly being replaced by the sweetness. Jaife felt good. And he knew the person stretching him out felt good because Tiras sounded so. Then he moved.

He was gentle at first. But Jaife told him to rock faster. He did.