Chapter Two #2
“We’ll meet you back at the den,” Arslan told him. “If it makes you feel any better, you can tail us all the way.”
Franklin stormed back to his car and slammed the driver’s door behind him. Keeping Arslan’s car in sight didn’t actually make him feel any better about anything.
His palm was tingling where Caramel’s skin had touched his. They should still be touching. Even the smallest amount of space existing between them was too much. Being in an entirely separate vehicle was intolerable.
Pulling up in a flurry of gravel outside the den, Franklin jumped up of his car, marched towards the other vehicle and yanked open Caramel’s door.
As Caramel levered long, graceful limbs out of the vehicle, Franklin couldn’t make himself step back and give him extra room. Hell, he could barely keep his hands at his sides and stop himself reaching out to caress Caramel’s body that second.
Clenching his hands into tight fists, he forced himself to remember the men and lions who still surrounded them.
There would be time enough for him and Caramel to come to some sort of arrangement once they gained some privacy.
Turning toward the house, Franklin strode inside, determined to get to that point as quickly as possible.
An hour later, Franklin’s hands had been furled into fists for so long, they were beginning to cramp. There didn’t seem to be any possibility of achieving any sort of privacy in the den. Hints, subtle and blatant, always fell on deaf feline ears.
As it grew late, and he was finally shown to his bedroom by Ryland, Franklin couldn’t help but be acutely aware of the fact that it would be his room, not his and Caramel’s room.
“Which will be Caramel’s?” he asked as he was led along a corridor lined by doors.
Ryland hesitated for a moment. “Yours is just along here.”
Franklin glared at the back of his head.
Ryland opened and door and pointed out where the en-suite and the spare blankets were. “If you need anything else, Arslan’s and my room is just at the end of the hall.” He pointed to the appropriate door.
“And Caramel’s room?” Franklin enquired again.
Ryland pushed his hands into his jeans pockets as he shrugged. “Sorry.”
“Really?” Franklin snapped “You don’t sound it.” He strode along the length of the room, past the big double bed he was apparently destined to sleep in alone that night.
“He’s had a rough time,” Ryland reminded him. “Maybe a bit of breathing space is a good thing for both of you.”
Franklin turned at the end of his pacing route and glared at Ryland as he realised there was no way in hell he was going to get his own way. “Enjoying your power trip?” he demanded.
“Not particularly. Not my kink.” Ryland held his gaze as he said it, for all the world like a man who knew he was doing the right thing and was going to bloody well keep doing it regardless of how uncomfortable it made him feel.
“I don’t suppose it’s occurred to you that I could make it worth your while if you—”
Ryland stepped back as if Franklin had slapped him. “The only thing that occurs to me is that everyone should get some sleep. No one makes good decisions when they’re exhausted. Goodnight.” He closed the door behind him.
Franklin strode across to the door, only to stop with his hand wrapped around the handle. What the hell was he going to do, storm through the upper floor of the house opening every door and waking every lion in the house in the process?
Franklin stamped across to the bed and slumped onto the edge of the mattress. Leaning back, he lay across the width of the bed and stared up at the ceiling. It wasn’t quite the way he intended to spend the first night he and Caramel were under the same roof.
There had to be a way to get to him…
Franklin tapped his fingers on his stomach as he tried to work out his next move. There was always a next move—if a man had the brains to see it and the financial resources to make the most of it—there was always a move.
Now, if Franklin could just bloody well work out what the hell it was…
He had no idea how long he lay there, with his legs hanging over the side of the bed. It was at least enough time to get used to the silence of the otherwise sleeping house and to jump when the handle on his bedroom door rattled.
As he levered himself up onto his elbows, the heavy mahogany panel swung open.
Caramel stepped inside, full to the brim with confidence and self-assurance, as if he had no doubt that he already owned Franklin’s room and everything it in.
Pushing the door closed, he casually leaned back against it. Thumbs hooked into the empty belt loops of his jeans, he glared at Franklin. Off guard, and still half laying back on the bed, all Franklin could do was stare back in confusion.
The jeans appeared to be the only thing the lion was wearing.
His chest was bare, so were his feet. Franklin ran his gaze over every inch of exposed skin being displayed to him with due appreciation.
Caramel’s jeans had slid down low enough that it was obvious he still wasn’t wearing anything underneath them.
Caramel’s lips twisted into a vague approximation of a smile as their eyes met. He lifted one perfectly shaped blond eyebrow. “I’d ask if you can see anything you’d like, but I think we both know the answer to that one, already.”
Franklin finally dragged two brain cells together and sat up. “Oh?”
Caramel pushed himself away from the door. “I saw the way you watched me dance.”
“Yes.” Franklin didn’t see any point in hiding that. He didn’t try to cover his growing erection as it tented his trousers either.
Caramel stepped forward without another word, until he stood directly before Franklin.
Franklin immediately reached out. “Caramel, I—” His hand was barely an inch away from Caramel’s skin when the lion batted his fingers away.
“You’re not in some sleazy strip club now,” he snarled. “And you’re not in the alleyway behind one, either. It’s Cameron, not Caramel, and you don’t touch unless I give you permission.”
Franklin was halfway to his feet when Caramel—when Cameron pushed him roughly back onto the mattress. He fell, sprawling as his hands slid across the blankets. “What the hell do you think you’re…?”
Car-Cameron merely loomed over him, glaring down at him as if he was the one who had every right to be pissed off.
Damn, but he actually made the whole “stunning while psychotically angry” bull that people spouted make sense.
Adrenaline flooded into Franklin’s veins.
Suddenly not finding himself in quite so much of a rush to jump to his feet and take control of the situation as he thought he’d be, he leaned back on his elbows once more.
For some reason, he found himself simply lying there waiting to see what would happen next.
Giving up even that tiny bit of control to Cameron sent a jolt of discomfort racing through him, but pleasure was hot on its heels—and every ounce of it rushed straight to his cock. And, for then at least, pleasure won out.
“Okay. Cameron.”
Cameron’s eyes narrowed as he frowned down at him, as if he expected it might be some sort of trap. Even when he leaned forward and reached for Franklin’s fly, Cameron’s eyes never left his face, he never stopped studying him, being ready for an attack.
Tugging down the zipper, Cameron yanked both Franklin’s trousers and his boxer briefs down to his knees. His cock sprung free from the confines of the fabric as he was exposed completely.
Franklin’s hands clenched around the blankets on either side of his body as he raised his hips to make it easier for the lion to strip him down.
As he lowered his arse back down to the bed, Franklin had to use every scrap of self-control at his disposal to force himself to stay silent and just let Cameron do as he pleased with him.
Resting a knee on the sheet between Franklin’s legs, Cameron calmly leaned further forward and dipped his head over Franklin’s lap.
His tongue was rough. It shocked a gasp out of Franklin as Cameron licked along the underside of his erection, from base to tip. The coarse, pleasure-filled sound made Cameron look up.
Dominance and success mingled in his gaze as he ran his fingers through the long blond stands of his hair that fell down into his face, pushing them out of his eyes.
Steadying Franklin’s dick with his free hand, Cameron bobbed his head lower and took Franklin’s cock into his mouth for the first time.
Wet heat surrounded Franklin’s dick, and he bucked helplessly in response, trying to push his cock further between the lion’s impossibly soft lips as that rough feline tongue rasped against him once more.
A snarl vibrated around Franklin’s erection as Cameron caught hold of his hips. His palms were hot, too, just like his mouth. As Franklin looked down, he saw Cameron’s nails morph slowly into claws and lightly pierce his skin.
Finally, Franklin’s hands remembered how to do something other than cling to the blankets.
He snatched at Cameron’s wrists, desperately trying to jerk the vicious looking talons away from him, but Cameron merely sank his claws a little more deeply into Franklin’s flesh in response.
A muffled sound, half snarl and half roar, vibrated against Franklin’s cock.
Ignoring all of Franklin’s attempts to get his attention, Cameron lowered his mouth around Franklin’s, taking him to the base in one easy movement.
The pinprick of claws mingled in with all the other sensations Cameron was pushing into his body. The heat from his touch and his mouth was unlike anything Franklin had ever known, unlike any human.
As he stared down at Cameron, it was almost easy for Franklin to put aside the little spikes of pain as they mixed in with his pleasure, almost easy to like them and to like being held down against the bed, as well.
Releasing Cameron’s wrists, Franklin hesitantly freed him to do as he pleased. The vibrations of a purr were a quick and delicious reward for that.