4. Chapter 4
Chapter four
I f asked, business associates would likely describe Itri as calculated. Friends might be a bit more generous. No one, however, would ever use words like tolerant or patient.
Still, it had been centuries since he’d lost control like that. And all because of a sassy cherub with a sharp tongue.
Oh, he knew good and well that the imp had played him with that little performance in the ballroom. Those big doe eyes the color of burnt amber. That puffy bottom lip that trembled on cue. His exaggerated vulnerability. The entire act had been carefully designed to elicit a specific reaction, and Arlo had executed it flawlessly.
Maybe the most surprising thing about it was that Itri knew he’d been manipulated, and he gave precisely zero fucks. If Arlo wanted him to rearrange the sky and write his name in the stars, he’d find a way to make it happen.
The shifter had never been in any real danger…of death. He might have limped out of the party bloody, bruised, and a little broken, but Itri would have stopped short of killing him.
Probably.
He suspected Skye had played a hand in sending the troublemaker to talk him off the proverbial ledge. There had been far too little urgency in Arlo’s pleas to convince Itri that he’d acted of his own accord, and frankly, it amused the hell out of him.
He also imagined he would be receiving a sizeable bill for the damages he’d caused. Oh, Skye would have the ballroom put to rights by morning, but she would consider it the principle of the matter. A justifiable expense as far as he was concerned.
“Would you really have killed him?” Arlo asked, just as they reached the bank of elevators. He sounded vaguely curious about the answer and nothing more.
Every part of him wanted to continue denying it, even to himself, but he knew better. When that fucking wanker had gripped Arlo by the neck and dug his claws into the skin, Itri’s vision had gone as red as the bead of blood that trickled down his mate’s throat.
“Yes.”
Arlo tightened his arms and wiggled, pressing himself closer. “For me?”
Itri dipped his head. “Yes.”
“You barely even know me.”
The lift arrived then, the doors parting with a quiet ding. Itri stepped into the cab and selected the option for the second floor. When the doors closed again, cocooning them in relative privacy, he tucked his chin and looked down to meet Arlo’s gaze.
“I take threats against what’s mine very seriously.”
Arlo’s eyes sparkled, and a sweet blush swept over his cheeks. From the cold or something else, Itri didn’t know, but he looked stunning.
“And that includes me?” he asked. “I belong to you?”
“You are mine. ”
Arlo caught his bottom lip between his teeth, and the blush in his cheeks deepened. “That’s fucking hot. Say it again.”
One side of Itri’s mouth curved into a smirk. “You like that, dove?”
“Mm hmm.”
He had expected some resistance. At the very least, an exhaustive list of questions. Arlo’s aura said human. His scent said human. But maybe the guy had some incubus in him.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-three.”
Itri chuckled. That explained it. No horny demon energy. Just the hair-trigger instincts of a young male riding a wave of hormones and desires.
“What about you?” Arlo asked.
He hesitated. Would it be a deal breaker? Arlo had been remarkably unbothered by everything so far, but would this be the tipping point?
“Eighteen hundred, give or take a decade.” There really was no gentle way to deliver the news.
“Oh, wow.” The male squirmed in his arms again, repositioning until he straddled Itri’s hips with his slender legs locked around his waist. “I bet you’ve seen a lot of cool stuff. Did you meet Julius Caesar?”
Head tilted, brow furrowed, it took him a moment to realize Arlo was entirely serious.
“No, I’m afraid I didn’t have the pleasure.” Largely owing to the fact that he hadn’t been born yet.
The cab slowed to a stop with a soft bounce, and the doors parted onto the second-floor corridor in the east wing of the Manor. He’d been put out with Skye for placing him in the suite closest to the lifts, but he had to admit, he appreciated the short walk now.
Especially when Arlo started rubbing against him, nuzzling his face over the side of Itri’s neck.
Hoping to distract him, Itri asked, “Can you get the key? Inside pocket of my jacket.”
He should have known better.
Arlo didn’t even pretend to look for the key. Instead, he smoothed his hands over Itri’s shoulders, across his collarbones, and down the expanse of his chest and stomach.
“I can’t seem to find it. Maybe it’s in a different pocket.” Sliding his hand lower, he slipped it between their bodies to cup Itri’s swollen cock through his trousers. “Oh, what’s this?” His eyebrows drew together, and his lips turned down at the corners. “You know, Mr. Lockwood, it’s illegal to carry a concealed weapon on hotel grounds.”
Itri growled, a low rumble in his chest, and he tightened his arms around his mate. “Careful, dove.”
“Don’t worry.” He squeezed gently, a saucy little smirk playing over his lips. “I’ll be very careful.” Then he released his hold and rubbed his hand back up Itri’s chest before dipping it inside his jacket. “Oh, look.” Holding up the brass key by the leather tag, he dangled it between them. “Found it.”
By the gods, Itri didn’t think he had ever seen danger wrapped up in such a small, irresistible package. Bold, fearless, and full of fire, the little human triggered a whole host of instincts and desires he thought he’d buried long ago.
He hadn’t been acting coy when he’d told Arlo to be careful. His mate wasn’t just playing with fire. He had ignited an inferno.
Snatching the key, he adjusted his grip on his mate and unlocked the door, nearly ripping the knob off in his urgency to get it open. Once inside, away from prying eyes, he couldn’t hold back any longer. Kicking the door closed, he spun around, trapping Arlo between his body and the door.
Their gazes met, and he found himself lost in the sparkling depths of those amber eyes. Beneath the bravado and trace of defiance, he also recognized a deep, absolute conviction shining back at him. Arlo might not truly understand their connection yet, but in that moment, he had placed his faith in him, trusting him to lead them where they needed to go.
Leaning in, he captured Arlo’s lips in a kiss filled with primal possession and dark desires. He ate at his mouth, dragging his teeth over his plump bottom lip before plunging inside to taste him.
An animalistic groan vibrated his chest as he swept his tongue across his mate’s, and his dick throbbed in tandem to his pounding pulse. Arlo smelled like spring rain and new blooms, and he tasted like absolute heaven.
Their tongues twined, dueled, an intimate prelude of sinful things to come. No words were needed as they pawed at each other, tearing at the damp layers of clothing that separated them. Only when it became absolutely necessary did Itri break the kiss and lower his mate to the floor to finish undressing him.
Gods, he was stunning. Long and lean, but soft in all the right places, with quivering muscles wrapped in a warm complexion of spiced honey, Arlo stole his breath. The rain had washed away most of the shadow that adorned his eyelids, but pops of orange and yellow with hints of vibrant green remained, enhancing his natural beauty.
Desperate for another taste, he reached out, only to be brought up short when Arlo stepped right up to him. Hands pressed to Itri’s chest, he ushered him out of the entryway and toward the common area of his suite.
Unsure of the goal but still curious, Itri played along, allowing himself to be maneuvered until his ass met with the back of the suede sofa. With nowhere else to go, he reached for the male again, only to have his hands batted away.
A deep groan echoed around the room as he watched Arlo drop to his knees, a beautiful combination of confidence and submission. Gritting his teeth, he held himself motionless as the seductive siren fisted the base of his cock and wrapped those kiss-swollen lips around the crown.
Wet heat engulfed him, sending a spark of electricity straight to his aching sack. While certainly no blushing virgin, the sight of his mate knelt before him, his lips stretched wide, and those captivating eyes half closed with pleasure was more erotic than it had any right to be.
Arlo began a slow seduction, dragging his mouth up and down Itri’s length. His tongue swirled around the head and flicked against the ridge before taking him to the back of his throat. The velvety muscles wrapped around him, squeezing, milking, demanding a reaction.
Leashing his more dominant instincts, Itri fisted one hand on the back of the sofa and rested the other softly atop Arlo’s head. He didn’t grab his hair or direct his movements. He simply left his hand there, a gentle connection as he savored the sensations that coursed through him.
Delicate fingers gripped his thighs, kneading and massaging the tense muscles as Arlo set up a steady rhythm. Pleasure consumed him. Desire raged, battering against him like a hurricane, but Itri kept a tight grip on his control.
So, he wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong when Arlo released his cock with a naughty slurp and sat back on his heels to stare up at him.
“Don’t hold back.”
His mate’s voice was low and husky, filled with meaning beyond the actual words. Itri studied him, watching his every micro-expression as he curled his fingers, tangling them in Arlo’s thick curls. When his eyelids fluttered, Itri tugged gently. The quiet moan that puffed from Arlo’s lips solidified his decision, and he responded with a silent nod.
If his mate wanted to give up control, if only for a little while, he was only too happy to oblige him.
Though still mindful of the human’s fragility compared to his own supernatural power, he aimed for a balance that would satisfy them both. Guiding Arlo back to his dick, he arched his hips, thrusting into his willing mouth. Released from his self-imposed cage, the heat that surrounded him felt even better than the first time.
He pumped his hips slowly at first, then faster and harder, spurred on by Arlo’s increased moans. Gripping his hair in both hands, he pushed to the back of his throat, growling when the tight muscles spasmed around his length.
Arlo tensed as he struggled to breathe around the engorged crown, but he didn’t try to pull away.
“That’s it,” Itri encouraged. “You can take it.”
His mate instantly relaxed, surrendering with a needy hum that vibrated around Itri’s cock.
Itri pulled back, his entire being pulsing with pleasure as Arlo sucked in a deep breath. It was too good, too perfect, and he knew another one of those delicious moans would push him right over the edge.
Sliding free from the warm sheath, he gripped Arlo under his arms and dragged him up from the floor to lay siege to his mouth.
“My gods, I can’t get enough of you,” he murmured between nibbling kisses.
Arlo arched against him, his heavy erection sliding against Itri’s thigh. “More.”
Flipping their positions, he rolled his mate over the back of the sofa, dropping him onto the seat. “Don’t move.”
Of course, he didn’t listen. Scrambling onto his knees, he draped himself across the back cushions and wiggled his perky ass. The grin on his face said the troublemaker knew exactly what he was doing, too.
Itri chuckled under his breath as he opened the closet in the entryway and shuffled through the side compartment of his travel bag. Palming the small plastic bottle, he rounded the squat end table to join his mate on the couch.
Moonlight spilled through the windows, casting a darkly sensual ambience across the room. Rays of silver and blue ghosted over Arlo’s body, highlighting every curve and throwing every valley into shadow. The pale light reflected in his amber eyes, and his damp curls gleamed, making him look like a debauched angel.
Itri’s cock throbbed at the sight, and a quiet growl trembled in his chest. He had never seen anything more devastatingly beautiful.
The click of the bottle cap sounded unusually loud in the deep quiet that blanketed them. Spreading a generous amount of gel over his fingers, Itri knelt on the couch cushions behind his mate, bracketing Arlo’s slender legs with his much larger frame.
He slid his slick digits along Arlo’s crease and ringed his entrance, coaxing the tight muscles rather than forcing. With his other hand, he stroked the slope of the male’s back, his arms, and his hips, learning what he liked and committing it to memory.
Fuck, he was so soft, so pliant. The way he reacted to every touch, every caress, had Itri struggling for control. They had all evening, though, and all the ones after that, and he wouldn’t be rushed.
From the moment he had set eyes on the human, he had wanted to unravel him, to watch him come apart piece by piece, and that was exactly what he intended to do.
He pushed inside with a single finger, gritting his teeth when tight, velvety heat surrounded him. Arlo moaned and arched his back, rocking against his hand to take the digit deeper.
“Yes,” he panted, his knuckles white where he gripped the back of the sofa. “More.”
Itri inserted a second finger, loving the way Arlo squirmed at the invasion. Thrusting in deliberate, measured glides, he continued to stoke the flames with tender caresses, leaving no part of him unexplored. He followed the curve of his mate’s hip, dancing his fingertips over the shallow indention and toying with the coarse curls.
But he always stopped just short of giving him what he really wanted, that little extra that would push him over the edge.
By the time he had three fingers sawing in and out of Arlo’s heated channel, his mate had dissolved into a writhing mess. Every whimper, every moan, sent electricity coursing straight to Itri’s groin, making his heart pound and his cock throb.
His mate was so close, right on the edge, and he couldn’t wait to watch him fall.
Freeing his fingers, he slicked his cock with more lube and pushed inside, not stopping until his balls brushed against Arlo’s backside. With a hand against his mate’s sternum, he pulled him upright, holding him flush against his chest as he thrust in a slow, controlled rhythm.
“Is this what you wanted?” he asked, his voice a harsh whisper against his mate’s ear.
“Yes.” Lifting his arms over his head, Arlo wrapped them around Itri’s neck, elongating his torso. “Don’t stop.”
Oh, he had no intentions of stopping, but he wanted the guy out of his mind before the end.
“So eager,” he murmured, flicking his thumbnail over Arlo’s erect nipple. “So hungry for me.” Then he captured the pebble between his fingers and pinched.
Arlo cried out and bucked against him, his arms tightening around Itri’s neck while his inner walls clamped down on his cock.
“That’s it,” he encouraged. “I love it.” He continued to torment his mate’s nipple as he increased his pace, thrusting harder, faster. “I love how needy you are for me. Say it, dove.” He emphasized the command with another sharp thrust. “Tell me how much you need me.”
“Fuck!” Arlo screamed. “I need you. Please, Itri!”
Itri’s deep, possessive growl filled the room, an accompaniment to Arlo’s heavy breathing and desperate moans. No more teasing. No more torturous seduction.
With his fingers wrapped loosely around Arlo’s throat, he palmed his mate’s heavy erection with his lubed hand, stroking him roughly to the rhythm of his hips. Driving into him, he pushed them both toward the pinnacle, his pace brutal and unrelenting.
Arlo’s moans, high-pitched and breathy, mingled with his own deep groans, a backdrop to the erotic chaos. Lost in the feel of his mate’s tight heat wrapped around him, he recognized almost too late the other changes happening inside his body.
Lightning hummed beneath his skin. His canines elongated, the sharp tips pressing against his bottom lip. His gums ached, and his mouth flooded as instincts clawed their way to the forefront.
Itri battled them back ruthlessly.
He wanted his mate, needed him in ways that words couldn’t do justice to, but this wasn’t the time. The choice to bond, to tie their lives together, had to be Arlo’s. He had to want it, and right then, he had neither the information nor the clarity to make that decision.
Arlo tumbled over the edge first, crying out Itri’s name as streams of hot cream erupted from his cock. Itri continued to stroke him, milking every last drop as he thrust harder, faster. His roar of completion shook the windowpanes, and the air crackled with electricity as he spilled himself into his mate’s clenching depths.
They collapsed onto the sofa cushions, Itri on his back with Arlo curled against his chest. Both sweaty and breathless, they didn’t speak, but shared soft touches and tender kisses as they rode out the aftershocks.
“Can I stay here tonight?” Arlo asked long minutes later. “I’m not sure I can move.”
As far as compliments went, it was a pretty damn good one. “I insist.”
“I think we ruined the couch.” His laughter indicated that he couldn’t have cared less. “Skye is going to be pissed.”
Itri shrugged. “She can bill me.” He smoothed his hand over Arlo’s groin, grinning when his mate’s cock instantly swelled against his palm. “Want to see what other furniture we can break?”