Men like Liam Ruthford were a dime a dozen. Roger knew them in every town he'd visited, and it didn't surprise him to find one in the city now. They thought themselves the biggest, strongest, and most powerful men, but they were all the same at the end of the day. Immersed in a fantasy and willing to use him to keep pretending. At least Liam was actually a good fuck, or else Roger might not have bothered.
Roger walked down the side-street, close enough to the market to smell the food and hear the chatter, but without being a part of it. After so long in the church and its halls, he missed the crowds. A worship congregation didn't have the same energy to it that actual city streets had.
An arm snaked around his waist, pulling Roger from his thoughts. It seemed it was time for the game to begin. The arm pulled him against a solid form, holding him almost painfully tight. The other hand came up to grip his throat, pulling his head back against the man's shoulder. Definitely Liam. He had a strange fixation with Roger's neck that he couldn't begin to understand.
"What do we have here?" Roger asked. "A priest out of the parish?"
"Please," Roger said. He swallowed hard, giving Liam what he needed.
Liam didn't answer, but his hand at Roger's waist snaked down to grab at Roger's cock underneath his robes. Roger didn't have to fake the gasp that came out of his mouth at the contact. It had been almost a week since Liam sought him out, and Roger had his own temptations since then. Liam palmed him through the cloth, rutting his own hardening length against Roger's leg. But Liam wasn't satisfied to just give pleasure. His hand tightened around Roger, squeezing hard enough to draw out another gasp.