Chapter One #3
Ryland stared up at Arslan, wondering how a sentence that disclaimed all knowledge of him could also manage to sound as possessive as hell.
“You’re a…?” Ryland trailed off as he realised he had no idea what to call him.
Arslan raised an eyebrow. “A shifter? A were? A lion? Yes.”
Ryland swallowed and nodded as if that was nothing to worry about. His wrists pulled nervously at his cuffs.
Since Arslan could never need to tie someone up to ensure they did as he wished, the bondage was obviously there because he liked it.
The professor wasn’t just a lion. He was a kinky lion.
Ryland wasn’t sure if that was objectively better or worse, although his cock certainly wasn’t complaining about the possibility.
Suddenly, Arslan reached behind Ryland. In a second, the cuffs were unbuckled from his wrists. He tossed them out of Ryland’s line of sight, perhaps to another lion. Ryland didn’t hear them land. He didn’t try to look in the direction where they disappeared either.
His shoulders ached, but he still kept his freed hands behind him and waited for Arslan to give him permission to move them.
The professor had always been able to make him sit still through a two-hour lecture with nothing more than a glare in his general direction.
No one in their right mind tapped his pen against his desk or fidgeted with his phone when Arslan was in charge of the room.
Ryland tried to tell himself that standing there naked with his hands behind his back was no different to minding his manners in a lecture hall.
But it wasn’t the same; it felt far more natural.
“I thought you didn’t do students.”
Arslan’s fingers tightened in Ryland’s hair. Nails that suddenly felt long enough to resemble a lion’s claws scraped against his scalp. The professor snarled at someone outside Ryland’s field of vision.
The harsh, angry little noise wasn’t directed at him, but Ryland still felt his heart hesitate before taking its next beat.
The professor’s snarl morphed into words without any clear line being drawn between the two. “Do you have something to say, Blaine?”
*
Professor Joseph Arslan quickly searched the gloom that lingered outside the bright circle of firelight.
As he met Blaine’s eyes, the younger lion took a step back and dropped his gaze.
Arslan watched Blaine’s posture change further as he apparently realised just how badly he’d misjudged the situation.
Arslan wasn’t inclined to be sympathetic.
It was well past time the boy learned to show due respect to the leader of his pride.
Blaine was more than old enough to recognise the situations when he might be allowed to play silly games and when the moment was too serious for such foolishness to be tolerated.
If the younger lions couldn’t look at the man currently standing in their midst and tell that he was different to all the sacrifices who had come before him, then Arslan had no problem with calling them to heel and reminding them of their respective places in his pride.
Blaine kept his eyes down. Satisfied for the moment, Arslan looked, in turn, at each of the other lions who lurked around the edges of the room, daring any of them to speak.
No one said a word. No one held his gaze for longer than a second before they looked down either. Arslan turned his attention back to Ryland. He quickly dropped his gaze, too.
It was a far more instinctive reaction than most of the lions had demonstrated. It was a natural inclination to a human form of submission rather than anything like an understanding of what it meant to be part of a pride, but it was still beautiful.
Arslan gentled his grip on Ryland’s hair and stroked his fingers through the ruffled blond strands. Putting the fear of Arslan into other lions was one thing, but there was no reason for him to scare his new pet.
Dipping his head, Arslan brushed his lips against Ryland’s temple.
Even that little hint of a kiss seemed to ease his anxieties.
His breathing became steadier. His pulse ceased to race quite so quickly.
Part of Ryland seemed to realise that the leader of the pride was pleased with him, and that meant he was safe.
If his improved understanding of the situation had eased most of his fear, it hadn’t dented his desire at all. The scent of Ryland’s arousal hadn’t changed in the slightest.
Half a step brought their bodies together. Ryland let out a little mew of unexpected pleasure as the tip of his erection brushed against Arslan’s hip, sounding for all the world like an eager cub.
But, however enthusiastic he was about feeling their bodies rub together, he still didn’t reach out and try to pull Arslan closer. He seemed to appreciate that he’d given control of such decisions to someone else.
Arslan smiled slightly. He’d certainly been right to see the potential in him. And he’d been right to wait and watch the younger man sitting in the back row of his lecture hall, too. He’d been very right to let Ryland eavesdrop on a subject he wasn’t even studying. Patience had its rewards.
Ryland rocked forward ever so slightly, leaning into Arslan’s touch.
“Do you know what it means to be with a lion, to be his pet?”
Ryland shook his head.
“If you don’t wish to know what it means, you should say your word.”
Ryland blinked up at him. His eyes were half closed, hooded with a depth of pleasure that seemed unfamiliar to him.
But, even as he stood there, he appeared to pull together the rough edges of tattered human instinct and mould it into something that might one day resemble a lion’s innate ability to do as his nature intended.
Arslan saw Ryland’s answer reflected in the deep blue of his eyes long before the boy managed to frame a single syllable, but he forced himself to wait for the words, too.
“Please, sir?” Ryland finally whispered.
And, as easily as that, Ryland was his. He was his pet now, and the world was a wonderful place.
Arslan tugged at the short blond strands of Ryland’s hair, tilting his head back.
Their mouths met. Arslan ran his tongue over the seam between Ryland’s lips, and they immediately parted, welcoming him.
Ryland moaned into the kiss. Hands he’d kept behind his back for so long, finally broke their invisible bonds.
He clutched at Arslan’s shoulders, pulling himself onto his tiptoes as he tried to match their heights.
He was apparently far too used to dealing with young men his own age.
He didn’t seem to know what to do with a fully-grown man, let alone with a lion.
Arslan slid his arms around Ryland, pulling him closer as he steadied him.
His claws crept out as he ran his hands over Ryland’s back, lightly scratching his skin, leaving clear marks to show any other lion who might catch sight of his new pet that Ryland had already been claimed.
As he traced his way down Ryland’s skin, Arslan stretched his hands out to their full span, ensuring that anyone who saw the scratches would also know the size of the shifter that had claimed him. Not the most civilised statement, perhaps, but it never hurt to be clear about such things.
Ryland bucked against him in apparent approval as he felt the gentle scratches break his skin. He pressed himself tightly into Arslan’s body, rubbing their cocks together as he damn near tried to climb up Arslan’s taller frame to make their bodies fit together the way he wanted them to.
But there was more than one way to arrange two men’s bodies. Arslan broke the kiss and spun Ryland around. Without his bound hands in the way, Arslan was able to line himself up against Ryland’s back properly.
Ryland instantly murmured his approval. Pushing his arse back against him in encouragement, he dropped his head back to rest it against Arslan’s shoulder.
His eyes were closed as if to better savour each sensation his new master offered. Arslan lapped at a tempting patch of skin on Ryland’s neck, gently tasting him. Ryland might not have been able to see the other lions watching them, but Arslan knew how closely they were being observed.
He looked up. Blaine and Luther were staring back at him, just as he’d expected. Their own desire for Ryland was obvious, but neither brat was going to get their way that night.
Tonight, the pair would have to make do with each other. Even as he saw that realisation dawn in their expressions, Arslan noticed Luther reach out to stroke his fingertips down Blaine’s spine.
Instinct demanded that Arslan deal with his pride as well as with his new pet. He met another set of watchful eyes, then another. Bowing his head over Ryland’s throat, he placed a gentle nip to his neck.
Ryland couldn’t have truly understood the significance of it, but he still seemed to thrive on that type of touch. His hand shot up to bury itself in Arslan’s hair, trying to pull him back to his neck, apparently desperate to feel the scrape of teeth across his skin again.
Arslan murmured praise and let the sound of his pleasure vibrate against Ryland’s throat instead. Ryland was quick to whimper his enjoyment of that, too.
Placing his hand on the Ryland’s shoulder, Arslan pressed lightly down.
Eyes still closed, Ryland frowned, as if he didn’t understand, but his expression cleared as he seemed to realise what Arslan wanted him to do and why.
He dropped to his knees on the rug before the fireplace without any extra hesitation.
Reaching out, he settled his hands on the floor in front him without needing to be prompted further.
As Arslan lowered himself to his knees behind Ryland, he reached out and stroked his hand down his spine. Ryland arched into his touch as he shuffled his knees further apart on the rug, offering himself through pure instinct.