Nearly

The hours following their lovemaking were always the most difficult for him. Lying in the dark listening to the young Earl's heartbeat, the smell of sex heavy in the air keeping him just on the edge of arousal. He removed the glove which hid the black, sinful mark of his servitude and examine it thoroughly. It had been crafted from his young master's sadness, fear and desperation, becoming a tangible symbol of their damning bond.

He yearned to touch Ciel without the despised white cotton barrier, at last feeling with his own fingertips the hot, silken flesh he adored. And in doing so he would break the last taboo between them, the only intimacy left unexplored. Protocol dictated that someone of his position, he who was a mere possession, a slave, a means to an end, was forbidden to take such liberties. It was a privilege which had not been bestowed upon him.

Sebastian reached for his master, struggling with temptation and desire. "Just this once," he thought, negotiating with himself. "He's fast asleep. He will never know and I shan't ever do it again." He hesitated and with much reluctance pulled the glove over his knuckles and down to the wrist. He exhaled deeply, a bitter self-loathing rising in his throat, and pretended to sleep.