Chapter Two #2
No one said a word to him as he filled his plate. He wasn’t sure if it was a personal comment or if it was merely the custom among lions not to speak to humans unless they were having sex with them at the time. The thought made Ryland look over his shoulder.
Arslan had taken his platter over to the fireside. He lounged on one of the big leather sofas, completely naked and entirely unselfconscious about that, just like all the other lions in the room. He met Ryland’s gaze when he caught him studying him.
A slight motion of Arslan’s head invited Ryland to join him. The seat next to the professor was vacant, but Ryland somehow found himself lowering himself down to sit on the rug at his feet instead. Arslan stared down at him, a curious light in his eyes, but he didn’t order him away.
He’d never struck Ryland as the kind of man who would allow someone to do something that displeased him just because it would be easier to let things stand as they were.
If the lion side of his personality was anything like the professor part of his psyche, he was apparently happy for Ryland to stay where he was, maybe he was even a little bit pleased with Ryland’s choice.
Ryland relaxed slightly. He relaxed even more when it became clear that the other lions intended to keep their distance. No one else joined them on that sofa.
Balancing his plate on his knees, Ryland ate a little of the meat he’d collected from one of the trays and did his best to follow what was going on around him.
As far as he could tell, he was now in the middle of some sort of social gathering for lions.
Arslan’s attention moved from one lion to another, and Ryland did his best to keep track.
The first to receive Arslan’s attention were two lions who were sitting close together, in a tangle of limbs, on the sofa opposite them.
Luther and Blaine, the lions Arslan had spoken to earlier, when he and Arslan were…
Ryland felt his cheeks heat at the memory of exactly what those lions had watched him and Arslan do together.
When he looked up, Ryland realised that he wasn’t the only one making observations.
Several of the lions were studying him in return.
He wasn’t sure if they were remembering his time on the rug in front of the fire with Arslan, or not.
For all he knew, the entire feast was just supposed to be some sort of mid-orgy snack, and they were actually thinking of what they were going to do with him after they’d satisfied a different sort of hunger.
Whatever their reasons for studying him, Ryland found himself sitting up a little straighter, squaring his shoulders, trying to make the best of himself. He wasn’t sure what he wanted them to think of him, but he was very sure that he didn’t want Arslan to be ashamed of him.
A glance up, and he saw Arslan was watching him, too. He nodded once, as if in approval, before guiding Ryland to sit even closer to his feet and rest his head against his thigh.
Once Ryland was settled into a position that seemed to please Arslan, the professor went back to his conversations with the other lions, but his hand remained buried in Ryland’s hair. As he spoke, he stroked his fingers through the strands with casual tenderness.
Ryland soon felt his eyes drifting closed as the gentle rhythm soothed him and encouraged him to just relax and let Arslan take care of everything for a little while. As tempting as the proposal was, Ryland forced his eyes to stay open.
The last man the professor turned his attention to was the smallest, youngest lion, the one who had nodded to Ryland by the food tables. “And what do you have to say, Kefir?”
Kefir looked to Arslan first, but he soon dropped his attention to Ryland. Their eyes met. The younger lion smiled slightly before he looked away again.
“It’s going well,” he said very softly. His voice had more of a purr than a roar to it. Ryland’s hand itched with the desire to reach out and stroke him just as he would a kitten.
Looking back up at the professor, Ryland was just in time to see Arslan nod his approval to Kefir.
Whatever was going well, it was obviously something that everyone present knew about, something that had no doubt been discussed on other nights when the pride met, perhaps while other human men sat at Arslan’s feet.
Swallowing down a sudden rush of uncertainty, Ryland stared at the empty plate resting on his lap.
Arslan’s fingers tugged gently at his hair, prompting him to look up.
Ryland offered him a small smile, but Arslan didn’t look convinced by it.
He seemed to sense something was wrong, but luck was on Ryland’s side, for once, and Arslan didn’t appear inclined to press the issue in front of the other members of his pride.
Ryland turned his attention back to the other lions.
They sat just as close to each other as he sat to Arslan.
Bare limbs crisscrossing each other as they sprawled together.
Blaine and Luther were obviously lovers—the way they touched, the way they looked at each other, they couldn’t be anything else.
But Ryland didn’t get that sense from any of the other lions.
They just seemed very friendly and comfortable with each other with no understanding of personal space.
Like a sleep-heap of puppies, or perhaps like a litter of new-born kittens.
They were big cats, after all… Ryland’s lips twitched as he imagined their reaction to the comparison.
Blaine and Luther would probably be particularly furious with the label.
They certainly hadn’t liked Arslan calling them to heel.
They were all swagger and bravado or, at least, they seemed to be that way, whenever they weren’t casually stroking each other or gently butting their heads against each other’s bodies in demands for affection.
As Ryland watched, Blaine rubbed the top of his head against Luther’s shoulder. Luther responded by licking the other lion’s temple and squirming his way down the sofa to steal a kiss.
Ryland looked up at Arslan. The professor was studying him very carefully.
His eyes flickered across to Blaine and Luther for a moment, as if he was tracing Ryland’s line of sight to see what he’d been staring at.
Colour rushed to Ryland’s cheeks at the realisation he’d been pretty much spying on the other lions making out.
The fact that they’d watched him do far more than that didn’t matter.
Bad manners were still bad manners. When Arslan looked back to him, Ryland tried to think of the right words to frame an apology, but there was no time.
Arslan had already turned his attention back to the other lions.
Ryland’s input obviously wasn’t required right then.
Closing his eyes, Ryland did his best to just relax and concentrate on Arslan’s fingers as they trailed through his hair over and over again.
If he had a choice between panicking and feeling quietly content, there seemed to be little point clinging to his worries.
He’d made his choice. He belonged to the lions until morning.
He belonged to Arslan until morning. That was an even better statement. Arslan would make sure everything was fine. Even if it turned out he was going to get screwed by the other lions, Ryland had complete confidence that, as long as Arslan was there, everything really would be fine.
Taking a deep breath, Ryland let it out very slowly and moved even closer to Arslan’s side, wanting to keep as much contact with him as possible.
The sex, the food, the heat from the fire, the comfort of somehow accepting the fact that he didn’t have any decisions left to make all wrapped around him, snug and secure.
For the first time since he was eighteen years old and standing in the middle of his parents’ living room, confessing to the one sin he knew his family would never forgive him for, he felt perfectly at peace, perfectly at ease inside his own skin.
Sleep snuck into the corners of his mind, and he found himself too lethargic to push away the instinct again. He’d just take the chance to rest until something more was required from him, that was all.
“What type of human do you think he is?”
The words picked at the edges of Ryland’s mind, but he couldn’t quite shake off the sleepiness enough to focus in on them properly until he felt Arslan tense. This wasn’t casual small talk anymore, and Ryland quickly focused in on the conversation.
“Type?” Arslan echoed.
“Every shifter knows there are three types of humans who want to be thrown to the lions,” Blaine continued. “Adrenaline junkies looking for a quick thrill. Nymphos who don’t care who screws them. And whores who’ll do anything for a price.”
The snarl started low in the back of Arslan’s throat and reverberated through his entire body. The atmosphere in the room altered the moment the sound hit the air. Ryland sensed a change in the other lions, too. Every one of them froze in place as they waited for the professor’s reaction.
“Ryland is nothing like any of the other humans who have been thrown to us.”
The possession in Arslan’s voice, combined with the certainty that he was right in his assessment of him, was more than enough to take Ryland’s breath away.
But, when those ideas reached the centre of his brain and collided with the fact Arslan wasn’t actually right to stand up for him that way, the idea of ever taking another breath became impossible.
He might not have come there looking for a thrill or the chance to screw as many men as possible, but Ryland knew he’d never have set foot through the door if he hadn’t been in desperate need of the money.
Even if he hadn’t thought about the cash since he’d set eyes on Arslan, it still existed, and it was suddenly obvious that the existence of that payment was going to have to be explained to the professor at some point.