The First Taste

Menes's upper hand cups Marcus's jaw, tilting his face up from the slab, and his lower hands slide to Marcus's hips, holding him still. 'You asked if you can trust me,' Menes says, his mouth a breath from Marcus's. 'Let me show you what trust feels like.' He kisses Marcus then, slow and deep, and Marcus's body goes rigid before it softens, his chained hands curling into fists. When Menes pulls back, Marcus's lips are parted, his eyes wide, and the question is no longer whether he can trust—it's whether he can stop wanting more.