Chapter Three #2
The blood drained out of Ryland’s face.
“Sit!” Arslan ordered.
Ryland just stared back at him as if he’d seen a ghost.
Arslan stood up, caught hold of both Ryland’s elbows and guided him onto the chair behind his desk. Taking the pile of marking out of his arms, he put it safely on the visitor’s chair, out of the way.
“I…”
Arslan placed his hand to Ryland’s forehead. Cold for a lion meant normal for a human. There was no fever, but he really didn’t know enough about humans to be sure that meant all was well. “Are you ill?”
Ryland stared at him, his expression completely blank. It was several seconds before he seemed to snap back into reality. He dropped his gaze. A blush rushed to his cheeks, making him look both far healthier as well as more than a little embarrassed. Even so, he still looked exhausted.
“Do you really think you should be looking for more work?” Arslan asked.
Not that there could be any real debate about the answer.
A lion might be able to work all the hours God sent without feeling too many ill effects from it.
Humans obviously couldn’t. That was why they needed lions to look after them.
Ryland followed Arslan’s gaze to the pile of marking. His blush deepened further, but he seemed to relax a little. “I’m fine, sir.”
Arslan wasn’t convinced. Ryland didn’t look fine. He didn’t feel fine. He sounded on edge and like he was struggling to cope. Not acceptable.
“I just didn’t expect you to be here, sir,” Ryland offered. “I…”
Arslan straightened up from where he was crouched down at Ryland’s feet, hoping that his putting some slight distance between them might help him to keep his hands to himself when his every instinct roared that he should be running his hands over every inch of the boy’s body, just in case the pain in Ryland’s eyes was caused by wounds he couldn’t see.
“Do you want some tea?” Ryland rushed out. He glanced at the cold cup on the desk. “I’ll go and make you a fresh cup.” He stood up.
“No.” Arslan placed his hand gently on Ryland’s shoulder and nudged him carefully back into the chair. It took all his strength of will to remove his hand from Ryland’s body as soon as that task was accomplished.
“I wasn’t asking you to leave,” Ryland rushed out, rising to his feet again the moment Arslan broke contact with him.
Arslan studied Ryland carefully. A pet’s need to be close to his master was shining brightly in Ryland’s eyes. Ryland might not understand it, but he was definitely feeling it. “I had no intention of leaving,” Arslan promised.
Ryland nodded. He looked relieved. Arslan stared down at him, wondering how much of a fool he was for still being glad of that. It wasn’t the quick understanding he might have hoped for, but seeing that the instincts were there, even if Ryland didn’t recognise them properly, it was still something.
Stepping back, Arslan put a little bit more space between them, but there wasn’t much further he could go without walking into an overburdened bookcase or one of the piles of books that Ryland hadn’t managed to fit on any of the shelves.
And no matter how far he went, the tiny room was still full of Ryland’s presence.
It was impossible not to be aware of every nuance of his emotions.
The room swirled with his nerves and his uncertainty.
Looking away from Ryland for a moment as he tried to clear his head, Arslan ran his fingers down the edge of Ryland’s folder full of history essays.
The boy wasn’t a natural historian, but the effort he’d put into each of the essays was obvious.
Arslan looked up just in time to see Ryland’s gaze follow his to the history essays.
“Someone said that you don’t let people attend your lectures if they’re not prepared to learn. I thought you might throw me out if I didn’t at least try to do the assignments,” Ryland whispered.
“You never handed them in.”
“You never threatened the throw me out,” Ryland said, his eyes still lowered to stare at the folder.
Arslan smiled at the logic.
“Professor?”
“Yes?”
*
Do you want a blowjob?
The words hovered on Ryland’s lips, but he didn’t quite have the balls to actually say them out loud. He looked up and caught Arslan’s eye, but he couldn’t hold his gaze for more than a few seconds. His attention dropped back to Arslan’s fly.
He opened his mouth, but, once more, no words came out.
He considered the merits of skipping any attempt at small talk and just dropping to his knees.
That would make everything very clear, wouldn’t it?
And, if he could just skip every part of the process that involved speech, he wouldn’t need to feel guilty for speaking to the professor without telling him the whole truth right away.
Ryland’s knees almost took over the entire decision-making process and buckled of their own volition.
He put his hand on the desk to steady himself.
He closed his eyes, but that did more harm than good.
He could so easily picture himself on his knees in front of Arslan, his lips wrapped around Arslan’s cock, his tongue flicking over the head as he stole a first desperate taste of him and finally discovered whether or not a lion tasted the same as a human.
“Ryland?”
Ryland opened his eyes. He took a step forward, but he didn’t dare drop to his knees without an invitation. Swallowing rapidly, he frantically tried to work some moisture into his throat so he could speak intelligibly.
“Sir?” He sounded impossibly calm considering the situation.
“Yes?”
“If you found out that…” Ryland looked up, and his courage deserted him.
He couldn’t tell Arslan why he’d been there.
He couldn’t watch the expression in the professor’s eyes change as he realised why he had actually agreed to go there that night.
He remembered that seeing that change in someone’s eyes before, as they lost all respect for him. Never again.
Ryland once more took refuge in the darkness behind his eyelids. It took him a lifetime to pull himself together enough to think of another ending to his sentence. “If the same man were thrown to the lions twice, would you be disappointed, sir?”
Arslan didn’t say anything for so long, Ryland had to look up and find out the worse.
“No,” he said, very softly. “I wouldn’t be disappointed at all.” Reaching out, he pushed Ryland’s hair back from his face.
Ryland remembered how to breathe. He nodded his understanding, careful not to dislodge the professor’s hand from his hair. His gaze settled on Arslan’s mouth, and his tongue snuck out to moisten his own lips in invitation.
“Do you remember your human word?” Arslan asked.
Ryland stared up at him in confusion for a moment, before he caught up. “The safe word?”
“Yes,” Arslan said slowly. “I expect that’s what humans would call it.”
“I don’t want to say no to you—I’ve never wanted to say no to you.”
Arslan smiled and stroked his fingers down Ryland’s cheek, stroking the blush that Ryland knew still lingered there. Remembering what he’d seen the other lions do at the house, he butted his head gently against Arslan’s shoulder in response.
Arslan slid his fingers under his chin and tilted his head back. Before Ryland had a chance to worry over the very real possibility that he’d just made a fool out of himself, Arslan’s lips covered his. His tongue demanded entry. Ryland grabbed at Arslan’s shoulders as his head spun in relief.
There could be no doubt over the intention behind the kiss.
Arslan took complete possession of his mouth.
Rough and demanding at first, as soon as Ryland was thoroughly out of his depth, Arslan’s mouth gentled against his.
The surface of the professor’s tongue was still rough, but his lips became the softest thing Ryland had ever known, as Arslan guided him to kiss him back and coaxed him to bring his own tongue out to play.
Something hard was pressing against Ryland’s back. Ryland only noticed that when Arslan eventually broke the kiss. He looked over his shoulder to find that he’d been walked backwards a few steps. He was pressed up tightly against a bookcase, effectively pinned in one corner of the tiny room.
There wasn’t much space, but he began to lower himself to his knees anyway.
Logic suggested he was making a huge mistake, but suddenly, the only important thing was that he do something for Arslan for free.
If he did something for free, he’d become something slightly closer to the man the professor thought he was inviting into his pride. Maybe? It was certainly worth a try.
Arslan caught hold of his arm and stopped him short.
“Let me, sir?” Ryland blurted out, and hoped like hell that Arslan wouldn’t ask him why it was so vital that he be allowed to go down on him right that second.
The professor studied him for a moment before he released his arm, but, eventually, he nodded his permission.
Ryland dropped heavily to his knees on the bare floorboards.
At least from his new vantage point, there was no need to worry about whether Arslan was enthusiastic about the idea or merely humouring him.
The professor was hard, his dick visibly straining against his fly.
Ryland reached for the zip and drew it carefully down.
He hesitated for a second, wondering how much less history he’d have learned over the last few months if he’d known there was the possibility that the professor was going commando during a lecture.
As soon as Ryland freed it, Arslan’s cock pointed straight towards Ryland’s mouth. He glanced up at the professor as he ran his fingers along the length of his erection. Even after his wrists had been uncuffed, he hadn’t had much chance to bring his hands out to play last time they were together.
Arslan was hot to the touch. It hadn’t been Ryland’s imagination or the fire that had been burning next to the rug that had clouded his memories and made him think that.