Chapter 25
RYNETH
Ryneth woke to sunlight warming his face.
And to Daven standing in the kitchen, mumbling to himself.
He yawned, stretched, and turned toward the ajar door, only to find himself staring straight at Daven’s tall, half-naked body in the kitchen.
Hmm…
Ryneth licked his lips, his dick stirring.
Daven was only wearing a pair of sweatpants that hung loosely over his firm butt and hips, showing off his long and sculpted legs as he rummaged through the drawers.
What the hell was he doing? What time was it anyway?
Ryneth frowned when he checked his multi-slate. Why was Daven up at six-thirty? Lately, he had turned out to be very much not a morning person.
Not this morning, though. Daven looked… inspired as he put pans on the stove and took more ingredients out of the fridge. Milk, butter, eggs—was he going to make pancakes?
Ryneth’s stomach growled.
Mara always made them for his birthday. Dripping in butter and completely covered in syrup, Ryneth had loved the hot cakes.
Good Light, if Daven was making pancakes, Ryneth would do anything he wanted. Do the dishes. Vacuum the penthouse.
Suck his dick.
Ryneth’s hand moved to where his own cock lay hard against his hip. He was horny.
Daven turned once again, this time with a bag of flour, a faint crease between his thick blond eyebrows as he poured it into a bowl. The eggs followed.
Definitely pancakes.
Ryneth gave his cock another little squeeze, unable to take his eyes from his fated one.
Daven’s chest flexed as he moved, muscle shifting under his skin. Ink curled from his throat to his pecs, and Ryneth wanted to crawl over and lick every inch of it.
Daven was gorgeous.
He was watching him too, the earlier frown replaced by his usual cocky stare that made Ryneth’s stomach swoop.
From the kitchen, Daven looked straight through the ajar door toward the bed, still stirring something in the bowl like he had all the time in the world.
Ryneth felt his face heat from being caught staring, but he couldn’t look away. Not when Daven’s biceps flexed with the motion, his eyes still locked on him.
The corner of Daven’s mouth curled into an amused smirk. “Good morning, aethera. Were you enjoying the view?”
Ryneth swallowed thickly. He wondered if Daven could see his erection through the silk. “You woke me,” he snapped. “You’re moving around like an elephant.”
Daven tipped his head back and laughed. “Am I now? Wait and see what I’ve got for you.” He held up the pan and coated it with butter. “Wanna have a taste, baby? Crawl over here and maybe I’ll let you.”
Ryneth’s mouth went dry. His cock jerked in his sleeping pants.
“You wish,” he snapped, the answer coming out with more bite than he intended.
But the words didn’t stop the thought once it hit.
What if he did? What if he went out there, dropped to his knees, and gave Daven exactly what he wanted just to see the look on his face?
His stomach tightened, and then he was sliding out of bed.
The first cool touch of tile against his knees made his stomach drop. Not because he didn’t know what he was doing, but because he did.
He wanted this. Wanted to crawl to Daven. Wanted to please him. Wanted to earn the fucking pancake.
But Daven was staring at him, all heat and hunger and quiet surprise, and Ryneth couldn’t seem to stop.
He wanted to see that look again. Wanted more of it.
So he kept moving.
Daven froze. “Oh, shit.”
Ryneth moved on his knees out of the bedroom, across the cool tiles of the hall, and straight to the kitchen island.
“Fuck, baby, you have no idea what you’re doing to me,” Daven rumbled when Ryneth stopped at his bare feet and lowered his head to press a series of featherlight kisses to his exposed ankles.
First left, then right, then he dragged his cheek up along Daven’s clothed leg to where his erection was already painfully visible.
Pressing his face against the gray cotton of Daven’s lounge pants, he breathed in the heat radiating from the man’s skin.
The scent of vanilla and sweet batter from the stove swirled around them, but Ryneth only wanted the heat of him.
He opened his mouth, grazing the hard ridge of Daven’s length through the fabric.
“You’re so hard for me,” he whispered, looking up through his lashes as he pressed against Daven’s thigh. “Does it ache, Daven? Does it hurt to wait?”
Daven let out a jagged breath, his fingers tightening on the edge of the marble counter. “It’s killing me. Fuck, you’re killing me, aethera.”
Ryneth let out a soft hum of approval. He swiped his tongue over the cotton, leaving a damp patch right at the tip where the precum had already begun to soak through. He took the clothed head into his mouth, sucking gently, his lips creating a seal through the fabric.
“Good Light,” Daven choked out. He reached down, his hand finding the back of Ryneth’s neck, his fingers curling into Ryneth’s hair as he guided him closer.
Ryneth dragged his teeth over the ridge, feeling the way Daven’s muscles jumped in response. “I want to taste you,” he murmured, his breath hot against the straining cotton. “I want to see what you look like when you lose it.”
Daven didn't answer. Instead, he reached for the waistband of his pants, his knuckles grazing Ryneth’s cheek as he shoved the fabric down. His cock snapped free, thick and gorged, a bead of moisture glistening at the slit.
Ryneth tipped his chin up. “Feed me.”
“Fuck,” Daven choked out, but he didn’t hesitate. He took himself in hand, veins standing out along the shaft, and guided the flushed head to Ryneth’s lips, his thumb dragging over the wet slit. “Take it, baby. Show me how much you need it.”
Ryneth opened his mouth, his tongue swirling around the head before he took the entire length deep into his throat. He closed his eyes and gripped Daven’s thighs, fingers sinking into hard muscle. The rings on his fingers caught the light as he held on.
Daven let out a low, wrecked sound. He turned back to the stove, his movements rhythmic and mindless as he flipped a pancake with a shaking hand. The sizzle of the batter filled the silence, the sweet smell of the kitchen clashing with the heavy, primal tension between them.
“That’s it,” Daven rumbled, his voice thick. “Use that tongue, aethera.”
Ryneth obeyed, one hand braced at the base as he took him deep again, then looked up through his lashes at Daven, watching his jaw tighten. “You’re so big,” he mumbled when he pulled back just enough to breathe. “I love how you taste.”
Daven’s hand tightened in Ryneth’s hair, his hips beginning to move in a slow, steady push. “You’re being so good for me. So perfect. Do you know how long I’ve wanted this? To have you on your knees in my kitchen while the world wakes up?”
Ryneth hummed, the vibration traveling up Daven’s length. He took him back in, his rhythm faster now, his head moving in a blur of silver hair and focused intent. He swirled his tongue around the ridge, his lips tight, his focus entirely on the man standing above him.
“I’m—I’m getting close,” Daven warned, his breath turning into a jagged rasp. He looked down, his gaze fixed on Ryneth’s flushed face. “Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop.”
Ryneth didn’t. He increased the pressure, his hands sliding to Daven’s ass and holding him there as spit and pre-cum dripped from the corners of his mouth, warm against his lips and down his chin. He wanted him to break. Wanted Daven to come apart down his throat.
Daven’s hand fisted in his hair. “Fuck,” he groaned, dragging Ryneth tighter against him as his hips started to move. “Fuck me, that’s so fucking good.”
He thrust into Ryneth’s mouth once, twice, then broke with a strangled shout.
The first pulse hit his tongue, thick and salty, with Daven’s scent all around him.
Ryneth didn’t pull back. He swallowed fast, greedy for it, trying to take everything as Daven’s cock throbbed against his tongue and the last of it slipped warm down the corners of his mouth.
Above him, Daven’s head tipped back, eyes rolling before Ryneth finally drew off and swiped his thumb across his lips to catch what he’d missed.
Finally, Daven slumped against the counter, chest heaving, one hand braced on the marble as he caught his breath. He reached down, his hand trembling as he brushed a strand of hair away from Ryneth’s face.
“Good boy,” Daven whispered, his voice softer than its usual arrogance. “My aethera. You’re perfect.”
Ryneth stayed on his knees for a moment, his head lolling against Daven’s thigh. He looked up at the pancakes on the griddle, the edges already blackening. “The breakfast is burning.”
“Dammit.” Daven reached out and flicked the heat off, the smell of burnt batter filling the kitchen.
Ryneth started to laugh.
Daven looked down at him, still on his knees at his feet, flushed and dazed and far too pleased with himself. His mouth was wet. His hair was a mess. He looked completely wrecked, and the sight of him made something hot curl low in Ryneth’s stomach.
“You think that’s funny, aethera?” he asked, but there was no real bite in it.
Ryneth tipped his head back and smiled, all soft triumph and lingering heat. “Maybe a little.”
“Brat,” Daven muttered.
He slid a hand into Ryneth’s hair and bent to kiss him. Slow this time. Deep. Not hungry in the same frantic way as before, but deliberate. Possessive. The taste of himself still lingered between them, and Ryneth’s pulse kicked harder.
When he finally pulled back, Ryneth was breathing hard, his eyes unfocused.
“Up,” Daven said, hooking a hand under his arm and hauling him to his feet. He kept him there for a second, one palm spread over the back of his neck, thumb brushing under his jaw. “You’re going to kill me one of these mornings.”
Ryneth leaned into him before he seemed to realize he was doing it. “You told me to crawl.”
Daven huffed a quiet laugh. “I didn’t think you actually would.”
“I wanted to.” The words slipped out so softly Ryneth almost missed them.