Lion Head Mesa shaduf [m]

Charles found himself longing for the return of the touch, and when it came, a shiver ran down his spine involuntarily. The berries made him weak, and though he had stopped eating them by now he could feel them further taint his mind. What happened then — he didn't want to think about it. It had been so embarrassing. He could never tell anyone, let alone this mighty Pharaoh. He pushed me to the ground, Charles said, clearly involuntarily. He wasn't sure why he said it. Perhaps because he was afraid to lose Ramesses' affinity and touch once again. It wasn't a lie, but Charles willfully omitted the part where he pissed himself. He didn't want anyone to ever know about it. The secret would die with him, as it had died with Osiris.

Ramesses' further questions made Charles even more on edge, and it showed. His muscles were tense. But Ramesses had him by the proverbial balls and the berries further weakened Charles' willpower in the moment. He hated me, he admitted bitterly, his gaze hardening for a moment. Ramesses already knew, and yet Charles could not say the words. I wanted him. Instead, he let the insinuation of his desire for Osiris linger in the air as he said: I never told him.