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the bed clothes, and saw through half-lidded eyes Camorra bending over him. As he felt the tip of his master's tongue snake out and run over the head of his ardent member, his self-control fled and he climaxed, in long, languid streaks of pure pleasure. He was vaguely aware of a hiss of satisfaction escaping Camorra as he sat back and drew a fingertip over his lips, catching the last drops of Benjamin's efforts. Leaning over Benjamin, Camorra drew a fingernail up from Benjamin's stomach to his collarbones, leaving a thin red line. For a moment he stared at the gently sheen of sweat covering Benjamin's face, before he gently drew the covers back up and kissed him upon the forehead. Without a sound, Camorra withdrew, seeming to melt effortless into the shadows. With