“We should do that as often as possible,” Marc said, a huge grin stretched across his softly bearded face.
Trystan laughed, floating on the euphoria still coursing through his blood. “Agreed.”
The hushed sound of rain drops pelting the roof and walls outside intensified. Marc’s grin twisted into something more mischievous. Before Trystan could ask, Marc slid his softened cock from him, scooped him into his arms, and headed for the bedchamber door.
“Where are we going?” Trystan whispered.
“It’s raining, and we’re both in need of a rinse.”
“Do you think it safe? We won’t have our weapons.”
Marc pulled the door open to the outside and stepped into the downpour. “I doubt anyone will be out in this, and we won’t be out here long. Besides, it’s dark.” He set Trystan on his feet and took a small step back, tilting his face upward.
Trystan opened his mouth, collecting the fresh water. He swished it around and spit it out, then did it once more. The cold rain showered their bodies, cleansing away sweat and grit and remnants of their love-making. Goose flesh prickled over Trystan’s skin. His muscles contracted and a shiver cascaded over him. He headed inside with Marc trailing behind him. They each wiped away the excess water then crept back to Trystan’s bedchamber.
Marc set a fresh log on the fire, and both men warmed themselves in front of the flames until dry. Trystan yawned, the long day finally catching up with him.
“Come and sleep,” Marc said, clasping Trystan’s wrist and tugging him onto the bed. “I should like to hold you in my arms all night.”
Trystan settled on his side with his back to Marc’s chest. Marc hooked his arm over Trystan and kissed his shoulder blade. Trystan pulled the blanket over them. He closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep.
