Chapter Nine
Ryan stirred against him, his breath warming the fabric of Grayson’s shirt.
His fingers had twisted into the material at some point, holding on like Grayson might disappear if he let go.
The exhaustion that had pulled at Ryan moments ago seemed to be fading, replaced by something else.
Something that made his breathing pick up, made his body press closer.
“I know I won’t be able to sleep,” Ryan said against Grayson’s shoulder. His voice came out rough. “Every time I close my eyes I see you changing. See the hyenas. See everything that happened.”
Grayson’s hand moved down Ryan’s back in slow circles. The muscles there were knotted with tension, rigid under his palm. His mate needed to relax, needed to let go of the fear still coiling through his system.
“Then don't close your eyes,” Grayson said.
Ryan pulled back enough to look at him. The fear scent had faded to almost nothing, replaced by something headier. His pupils were dilated, his lips slightly parted. “What am I supposed to do instead?”
Grayson’s hand slid lower, settling on Ryan’s hip. The heat of his body burned through the thin fabric of his jeans. “Whatever you need.”
Ryan’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. Grayson tracked the movement, his lion rumbling with satisfaction at the way Ryan’s pulse jumped in his throat. His mate wanted this. Wanted him. Even after everything he’d seen, everything he’d learned.
“I need to stop thinking,” Ryan said. His hands moved up to frame Grayson’s face, fingers trembling slightly against his jaw. “I need my brain to shut up for five minutes. Can you do that? Make me stop thinking?”
Grayson kissed him and swallowed the small gasp that escaped Ryan’s throat.
His mate's mouth opened immediately, letting Grayson in. The taste of Ryan flooded Grayson’s senses, familiar now but no less addictive.
Ryan made a sound low in his throat, something needy and desperate, and pressed closer.
The kiss turned hungry fast. Ryan’s fingers dug into Grayson’s shoulders, his body arching into the contact.
Grayson’s hand tightened on his hip, holding him in place while he mapped Ryan’s mouth with his tongue.
His mate was falling apart already, his breathing ragged, small sounds escaping between kisses.
Grayson walked Ryan backward until his legs hit the bed.
Ryan went down easily, pulling Grayson with him.
The mattress dipped under their combined weight.
Grayson settled between Ryan’s thighs, his hips pressing down.
Ryan’s erection was obvious through his jeans, hard and straining against the fabric.
“God,” Ryan breathed. His head fell back against the pillow, exposing his throat. “You’re really good at the making-me-stop-thinking thing.”
Grayson’s mouth moved to Ryan’s jaw, trailing kisses along the line of it. The stubble there scratched against his lips. Ryan’s pulse hammered under Grayson’s tongue when he reached the hollow of his throat. The trust in that gesture made something fierce and possessive coil in Grayson’s gut.
Ryan’s hands fumbled between them, reaching for Grayson’s shirt. He yanked at the fabric, pulling it up. Grayson leaned back enough to strip it off. Ryan’s eyes went dark, tracking over the exposed skin. His fingers traced down Grayson’s torso, mapping the muscles there.
“You’re so hot,” Ryan said. His voice had gone breathy. “Like unfairly hot. I’m still processing the shifter thing, but mostly I’m just really distracted by your abs.”
Grayson caught Ryan’s hands and pinned them above his head. Ryan’s eyes went wide, his lips parting. The scent that rolled off him shifted, the arousal spiking. His mate liked being held down. Liked giving up control.
“Keep them there,” Grayson said.
Ryan nodded. His fingers twisted in the pillow above his head, knuckles going white with the effort of staying still.
Grayson released his wrists and moved lower, pulling Ryan’s shirt up and over his head.
The fabric caught on Ryan’s arms for a moment before coming free.
Then Ryan was bare from the waist up, his skin flushed and marked with faint freckles across his shoulders.
Grayson’s mouth found Ryan’s collarbone. The taste of his skin made the lion purr with satisfaction. He traced lower, following the line of muscle down Ryan’s sternum. Ryan’s breathing picked up, his stomach tensing under Grayson’s lips.
“You’re taking your time,” Ryan said. His voice wavered. “Not that I’m complaining. Just observing. Very thorough. Very methodical.”
Grayson reached the waistband of Ryan’s jeans and paused. His fingers worked the button open then the zipper. Ryan lifted his hips to help, and Grayson pulled the jeans down his legs. Ryan wasn't wearing anything underneath. His cock lay hard against his stomach, flushed and leaking at the tip.
“I may have forgotten to put my underwear back on earlier,” Ryan said. His face had gone red. “In my defense, I was panicking about hyenas and shifters and the general collapse of reality as I knew it.”
Grayson ran his hand up the inside of Ryan’s thigh. The muscle jumped under his palm. Ryan’s legs fell open wider, making room. The trust in that gesture made something hot and possessive coil in Grayson’s gut. His mate was offering himself, giving Grayson everything.
“Turn over,” Grayson said.
Ryan’s eyes went wide. “Oh. We’re doing that. Okay. Yes. That’s happening.”
He rolled onto his stomach, his movements clumsy with arousal. The position exposed the long line of his back, the curve of his ass. Grayson’s hands settled on Ryan’s hips, holding him in place. His mate was small under his palms, fragile in a way that made the lion snarl with protectiveness.
Grayson leaned down and pressed his mouth to the base of Ryan’s back.
Ryan made a sound into the pillow, his hands fisting in the sheets.
Grayson worked his way up the line of Ryan’s vertebrae, tasting salt and soap and something uniquely Ryan.
His mate was trembling, small tremors running through his frame.
“You’re killing me,” Ryan said into the pillow. His voice came out muffled. “This is torture. Good torture. But still torture.”
Grayson’s teeth scraped along Ryan’s shoulder blade. Not hard enough to mark, just enough to make him gasp. His hands moved down Ryan’s sides, mapping the dips and curves. His mate was all lean muscle and soft skin, built for speed rather than strength.
Ryan pushed up onto his hands and knees. The movement was sudden, desperate. He looked back over his shoulder, his hair falling across his forehead. “I need more. Please. I need you.”
Grayson’s hand moved between Ryan’s legs, fingers brushing against his hole. Ryan’s whole body jerked, a broken sound escaping his throat. He was already relaxed there, his body opening under Grayson’s touch.
“When did you do this?” Grayson asked. His voice came out rougher than he meant it to.
“Bathroom. Earlier.” Ryan’s face flushed darker. “While you were downstairs. I thought maybe we'd—and I wanted to be ready—and now I’m explaining this like an idiot so maybe we could move past the talking part?”
Grayson’s finger pressed inside. The heat of Ryan’s body closed around him, tight and perfect. Ryan’s head dropped forward, his back arching. Small sounds escaped him, needy and desperate. Grayson worked him open slowly, adding another finger. Ryan pushed back into the touch, taking him deeper.
“Please,” Ryan said. The word came out broken. “I’m ready. I've been ready. Just please.”
Grayson withdrew his fingers and reached for the nightstand.
The drawer held supplies he kept there out of habit.
He grabbed the lube and slicked himself, the cool liquid a contrast to the heat building in his gut.
His cock ached, hard enough that it hurt.
The lion prowled under his skin, demanding he claim his mate, make Ryan understand who he belonged to.
Grayson positioned himself at Ryan’s entrance. The head of his cock pressed against the tight ring of muscle. Ryan’s breathing had gone ragged, his hands fisting in the sheets. Grayson’s fingers dug into Ryan’s hips, holding him steady.
“Breathe,” Grayson said.
Ryan obeyed. Grayson pressed forward, working past the resistance. The heat of Ryan’s body closed around him, tight and perfect. Ryan made a sound low in his throat, something between a moan and a whimper. His body opened slowly, taking Grayson inch by inch.
Grayson bottomed out and held still. Ryan was trembling under him, his breathing uneven. The scent rolling off him was pure arousal mixed with something sweeter. Satisfaction. Completion.
“Move,” Ryan said. His voice came out wrecked. “Please move. I need you to move.”
Grayson pulled back and thrust forward. The movement punched a gasp out of Ryan’s throat. Grayson set a steady rhythm, his hips driving forward. Ryan pushed back to meet him, taking him deeper. The sounds he made went straight to Grayson’s cock and made the lion snarl with possessive satisfaction.
“God,” Ryan breathed. His head hung between his shoulders, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. “You feel so good. So perfect. I can’t—”
Grayson’s hand wrapped around Ryan’s cock. The heat of it burned against his palm. He stroked in time with his thrusts, feeling Ryan fall apart under him. His mate was close already, his body tensing, small sounds escaping between gasps.
“Not yet,” Grayson said against Ryan’s back. “Wait.”
“Can’t,” Ryan managed. His voice broke on the word. “Can’t wait. Too close.”
Grayson’s thrusts picked up speed. The sound of skin meeting skin filled the room, mixing with Ryan’s desperate sounds. His mate was trembling, his body wound tight. Grayson could feel him getting closer, could smell the arousal spiking.
The bond pulled at Grayson’s consciousness. Incomplete. Waiting. His mate was here, offering himself, and the lion demanded completion. Demanded that Grayson make Ryan understand what he was, what they were to each other.
Grayson’s mouth found Ryan’s shoulder. The skin there was damp with sweat, salty under his tongue. Ryan’s pulse hammered against his lips. The trust in that gesture made something fierce rise in Grayson’s throat. His mate was offering his throat, his vulnerability, everything.
Ryan’s body clenched around him. The orgasm hit Ryan hard, his back arching, a broken sound tearing from his throat. Grayson felt it in the way Ryan’s muscles seized, in the way his cock pulsed in Grayson’s hand. His mate was coming apart, and Grayson was the one doing it to him.
The bond snapped into place. Grayson’s teeth found Ryan’s shoulder at the same moment his own orgasm hit.
He bit down, not hard enough to break skin but enough to mark.
To claim. The taste of Ryan flooded his mouth with salt and something deeper.
Something that sang through Grayson’s blood like recognition.
His release pulsed through him, white-hot and consuming.
His hips jerked forward, driving deeper into Ryan’s body.
The lion roared its satisfaction, finally, finally claiming what belonged to it.
Ryan’s sounds had gone quiet, just ragged breathing and small whimpers.
His body went slack, held up only by Grayson’s hands on his hips.
Grayson released his shoulder and pressed his forehead between Ryan’s shoulder blades. His breathing came hard, his heart slamming against his ribs. The bond thrummed between them now, no longer waiting. Complete. His mate. Finally his mate.
Ryan’s arms gave out. He collapsed forward onto the mattress, taking Grayson with him.
The movement made them both groan. Grayson was still inside him, still hard enough that the friction sent aftershocks through his system.
He pulled out slowly, watching Ryan’s body release him.
His mate made a soft sound into the pillow, something that might have been protest.