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of hand irons, or, as Denny knew them to be known, handcuffs. They were an old, solid pair that looked a little rusty but Christoph seemed so excited it ignited Denny’s own wicked desires. He leaned Christoph over his desk, whipped down his trousers and licked the man’s ass.
    Christoph moaned, his strong, muscular thighs rippling as Denny tried to spread Christoph’s legs. Christoph kicked off his shoes, wearing only his long black socks, and spread his legs, allowing Denny closer access to his hole. Denny licked him some more. Christoph gripped the desk and panted. “I don’t want to come like this. I want you to bind me and fuck me hard.”
    Denny took his tongue out of Christoph’s ass. “Believe me, I will.” He was so turned on he couldn’t think straight.
    This was all so new for Denny, but he easily took command of the man bent before him. He resumed licking and Christoph uttered a guttural cry as he came all over his nice, shiny desk. Denny swept up the juices with his fingers and smeared Christoph’s ass with the hot liquid. Christoph jumped when Denny slapped his ass again, then pulled his arms behind his back.
    “You sure this is what you want?” Denny asked, aware that this was a pivotal point from which he could never return.
    “Yes, yes. I beg of you.” Christoph put his head to the table.
    Denny cuffed his jailer’s hands and pointed his cock at Christoph’s hole.
    “Fuck me hard!” Christoph begged.
    Denny felt an astonishing fire soaring within him as he slid his cock inside Christoph’s tight, hot space. Nothing compared with being inside a man. Not a man’s mouth or hand, or even Denny’s own hand. He could feel everything going on inside Christoph’s body, the quivering pleasure he received from Denny’s incessant pounding. Denny came at the same moment Christoph let out a loud groan.
    “Oh, joy. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Oh. I’m coming! Denny, I am coming!”
     

Chapter Five
     
     
     
    Merritt’s abilities sharpened in that cave as he held each bewitched object in his hands. He soon knew who owned what, including a small gold ring that belonged to Denny. Merritt would wear it until he saw Denny again. He slumped against the cave wall, remembering that his sister had said Denny would soon be here. She could only know that if he’d been arrested and would face trial for his crimes.
    The trials on the island were often harrowing.
    His sister was on probation with the court, forbidden from bewitching another soul. Instead of following the judge’s orders, she’d hexed her own cousin. How long had she been doing this to Gremma? Merritt would put a stop to it. He would find a way to stop all of it.
    A heavy rain fell from the sky and he huddled against the chill. He was hungrier than ever now. Oh, the sandwich! It hadn’t been poisoned so he could eat it. He glanced at his hands. His previously cursed, blackened fingertips were their normal color once more. He had to wash them, though, after all that negative magic had moved through them.
    He had a plan but a clear mind would help him execute it.
    Why had Cillian died if the apple hadn’t been poisoned? What had killed him? He’d seen his sister cutting his shoulder, but Cillian had had no wound when Merritt had found him in the stables. Wait. Avery was from the elf community and their magic cured animals’ wounds. Merritt would ask him, but suspected that Avery must have found the cut and assumed that Cillian had injured himself on a tree branch and had healed him.
    Merritt stepped outside and let the rain wash over him. He’d danced in the rain on the deck of the La-Di-Da with Denny. They’d laughed and sung songs, until Fortunata had appeared, furious, and the dancing had stopped.
    Soaked now, he moved back into the cave, feeling refreshed. Thankful for his hiding place, he dropped to the floor and opened the package containing the sandwich. He ate fast. Perfect. He slumped against the wall again, trying to ignore