Amorous Overnight by Robin L. Rotham

for a long moment. “I believe I misspoke earlier,” he finally said. “I may be vigorous but I’m not cruel, nor do I wish to humiliate you in any way. I’ll exercise caution until you’ve become accustomed to bottoming.”
    “Thank you, sir.” Hastion wasn’t the least bit comforted. No matter how much caution the minister exercised, his penetration would be painful.
    “You understand this will be easier if you disrobe,” Cecine said dryly.
    Realizing he was still staring, Hastion reached for the tab on his uniform and then hesitated as his intestines gave a twinge of protest.
    “Second thoughts already, Ensign?”
    The minister’s tone was casual but Hastion could hear the underlying hint of tension. For some reason it made him feel better that, even now, the minister didn’t take his assent for granted.
    On the other hand, being forced to comply would save him all this agonizing and uncertainty.
    “No, sir,” he said uncomfortably. “I merely need to use the waste facility.”
    “Ah. I believe I comprehend your difficulty.”
    Hastion started. “Sir?”
    “You’re welcome to use the facility, but know this,” Cecine said with a direct look. “If I were ever possessed of delicate sensibilities, eight years servicing my departed mate and more than forty as a warrior would have stripped me of them. I’ve been bathed in more blood and waste than your body could produce in a lifetime and, more often than not, gloried in it.”
    A cold trickle seized his bowels and Hastion swallowed hard. “I truly need to relieve myself, sir.”
    “Very well. The facilities in the guest bedchamber will afford you more privacy than mine. It’s the first door to the right of the music room. Rejoin me here when you’re ready.”
    Thank the Powers! Hastion nodded. “Yes, sir.”
     
     
    Programming Empran to admit Hastion upon his approach, Cecine took several deep, cleansing breaths. Peserin, but the young warrior was dragging out the suspense to unbearable lengths. If he didn’t know better, he’d think he was being toyed with.
    But the ensign was clearly unnerved, so much so that Cecine had nearly denied him the time he requested, for fear he’d talk himself out of even trying. It had taken every particle of his resolve to get up and walk out of the dining room, especially after he saw those wide blue eyes on his half-risen staff. He’d been entirely too tempted to end their negotiations and take what he wanted whether the ensign was willing or not, to test him and see exactly what he could take, and how much of a fight he’d offer.
    An ignoble, unacceptable impulse, if there ever was one, and he was very much afraid it had shown on his face. Half-convinced he was about to receive word from Empran that Hastion had beaten a hasty retreat, he’d removed himself to his music room and vented his apprehensions on the baby grand piano, an ingenious instrument that allowed him to produce soothing melodies with rigorous pounding.
    The violence of his arousal was troublesome. The more time he spent with the ensign, the more he wanted him. There was something disturbingly compelling about him, something that went much deeper than the beautiful face and the brazen, carefree character he presented to the crew. He was a complex puzzle, and Cecine wanted to take him apart piece by piece and discover what that something was.
    An even less noble impulse. Low-ranking or not, Hastion was a male of worth and entitled to the privacy of his thoughts and emotions.
    Cecine frowned. The rush of relief he’d felt when the ensign appeared at the door of his music room had made his fingers tremble slightly. He’d best get this explosive reaction under control or he was going to frighten away his quarry.
    Taking one last cleansing breath, he looked around. He’d already decided this experiment was best performed leaning over the side of the bed. It seemed less intimate than kneeling together on the mattress and would limit the amount