Chapter Thirty-Two
St. Sebastian
Present Day
For the first morning in years of mornings, I wake up with hope.
Auden’s bed is soft and pillowy and big, and Sir James Frazer is stretched out next to me, snoring gently and twitching his massive paws. Outside is a sky the color of the Virgin’s robe, with the distant swell of greenish moor reaching up to kiss its hem, and everything seems so warm and happy that even I am charmed by it.
I’m even more, ah, charmed, when I stretch and feel aches everywhere aches can live. My muscles, my hands, my knees. My c**k, sore from orgasming over and over, my arse for even more obvious reasons. The bite mark on my chest has darkened to a purple so royal and beautiful that I reach for my phone and take a picture. I’m going to take a picture of it eve
