Ocean's Breath Plateau scarabs

"i believe you." whether it was for the pursuit of a pantheon or the interest in machiavelli's bended knee, senmut did not elaborate. his heart leapt a little when the fellahin's body connected with his.

beneath the cold-wet fur, warming due to his own efforts, the skin was warm. lithe, that of a cat lying in dappled sunlight. if he had mind of a jungle, he would have imagined the brilliant fire held in those cut-gem eyes gleaming from forest shadows.

"of course it pleases me when you worship," senmut offered back. he settled upon the sand, paying no mind to the grains which now clung to his underbelly and elbows. "i am simply a priest beneath the title of prince."

he could not take his eyes from the uptucked waist, the clasping cascade of venetian red and burnished sienna against the polished alabaster.

senmut did not understand when his eyes had been opened to such beauty.

"which gods have you served?" let him lead them both back to a path less tempting, a priest smoothing jeweled hands over an altar.