...No fire burned in the tiny hearth. The only light in the room poured from the slit that passed for a window high in the wall onto the narrow bed and the figure sprawled there.

The captain of the guard lay on his back, naked, one foot on the floor. The thin, white sheet of rough linen covering him to the waist served only to highlight the sweep of lean hips and the bulge of his flaccid cock where it dipped into the valley between powerful thighs.

Janos couldn’t take his eyes off him. Lust, like liquid fire, washed over him, raising gooseflesh and creating a stir in his breeches as his own cock reacted to the sight. A harsh, silent breath escaped him.

The Archangel Michael lay before him bathed in moonlight.

He crossed himself with his sword arm to ward off the blasphemy without bothering to pray for strength to resist the invitation the long, hard body conjured. That temptation was beyond resisting and assured him an eternity burning with a different fire in hell.

From the foot of the bed, he let the steady rise and fall of the man’s breathing hypnotize him while he waited for the tremors in his limbs to settle down. Once his hand steadied, he slid the tip of the saber beneath a fold in the sheet and lifted away the cover for a better view. The soft snores never faltered.

His gaze traveled the length of the man, taking in the thick blond hair spread across the pillow, the full, perfectly kissable lips, slightly parted. And down, following the line of light fur past the wide expanse of chest and cleft of torso to where the no-longer flaccid cock swelled and lifted from its coarse nest as though responding to his visual caress.

Ah hah, the sleeper awakes. His lips curled. He swiped the flat of the blade over one turgid nipple.

The captain thrust an arm toward the floor, groping.

“Is this what you’re looking for?” Janos raised the saber in salute. His voice was entirely too husky to pull this off.

In a blur, his prey leaped from the mattress. “How did you get in here?”

Janos circled the bed, keeping the saber pointed at the captain’s chest. The tall, blond bear of a man retreated before the smaller until his back met unyielding stone. Janos pressed the advantage. Lifting the point to the man’s jaw, he closed the distance between them to a hand’s breadth.

“Take off that mask,” the captain demanded.

“And bare my identity? I think not. Kneel.”

A stubborn crease appeared in the smooth brow. The flesh surrounding the saber’s tip puckered and paled as Janos forced a sinister air and increased the pressure—just a hair. He had no desire to draw blood.

The man snarled a curse and lowered himself to the floor. “You’ll be caught. My men are asleep down the hall.”

“I’ll come quietly, then.” Janos chuckled and unbuttoned his pants with his free hand. His engorged cock, freed from the confines of his breeches, fell heavily into his palm. A few casual strokes drew the man’s gaze. The heat in those crystal blue eyes produced a thrill of triumph. He’d guessed correctly. Stefan appreciated the game.

“You realize,” his lover said, licking his lips, “if that blade slips, you’ll likely lose your manhood to my death throes.”

“Ta gueule, Novák! Stop blabbering and suck.” Janos grinned in anticipation. “And, if I feel teeth, rest assured your theory will be tested.”

Stefan’s tongue reached out and licked the grin right off his face.

A jerk of his hips thrust Janos’s cock against the other man’s mouth.The lips parted, and with a low moan, he sank into silken warmth. His sword arm shook.

The captain reached up and swiped the blade away from his jaw. Its tip dropped to the floor.

The grunt that escaped Janos’s control was too loud.