‘I moan as Arno kisses me, his tongue slipping past my lips in a passionate French kiss. He pushes me up against the wall, hands roving my body, slipping me out of my clothes while I run my hands down his chest to between his legs. I cup my hand over that tight bulge in his breeches, hot with his need for me, and listen in satisfaction as he moans against my lips. “Shall I help you get more comfortable, Monsieur Dorian?” I say innocently, slipping my hand in and stroking his thick, rigid shaft.’