26. Aryn #2
“Do you feel that?” he whispers, breath hot against my skin. “Been hard for the last ten minutes. All I can think about is you. Just you. The way you feel so good under me. How much I want to kiss you. How I want to do a lot more than that right now.”
My hands tighten on his hips. The mark on my tail burns hot beneath my coat, pulsing with need and frustration that feel like they could end me if I let them. Cato stares at me, eyes burning like wildfires in the night as the admission hangs between us.
I take the cigarette from his fingers. He watches me, lips parted, as I bring it to my mouth and take a long, slow draw.
I hold the sweet smoke deep in my lungs and let it course through my system.
It’s warm and heady as it blooms through my limbs, and I feel my pupils dilate as I tilt my face to his.
Cato’s breath catches as my hand slides around his neck to pull him closer. Our lips almost touch as I exhale slowly, guiding the smoke into his mouth. He inhales it from me with a soft, needy sound, eyes fluttering half-closed. The intimacy of it makes my pulse thunder.
He continues moving against me, rolling his hips in a lazy, deliberate rhythm that sends heat pooling low in my stomach. Even through our thick pants, I can feel his cock pressing into me with every movement.
“You’re going to be so embarrassed when you remember this,” I warn, voice rough as I fight to keep control.
Cato shakes his head, forehead resting against mine. “Don’t care right now.”
“But you’ll care in the morning,” I say gently as I grip his hip tighter, halting his movement for a moment.
“If you still feel this way tomorrow—if you still want this when you’re clear-headed—then we’ll talk.
We’ll figure it out, I swear to you. But I care about you too much to take advantage of you like this. ”
He whines, and the low, frustrated sound goes straight to my cock. “What am I supposed to do then?” he breathes. “I feel like I’m going to combust, Aryn. Everything feels so good, and you’re right here, and I just—”
He leans forward, burying his face against my shoulder. His lips find my neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin there. I shiver, fingers digging into his waist.
“I need it,” he whispers against my throat. “Need you. If you don’t do something, I’m gonna die. Please…”
His hips roll again, slower this time. More desperate. My body screams at me to give in, to take what he so willingly offers, but I force myself to stay still. I blow a hard breath through my nose as his lips keep working along my neck.
“Let’s take you inside, rha khor,” I murmur, fingers trailing up his spine. “You can burn where there are no witnesses.”
I glance once more across the fire at Lirien, who watches us with a disappointed frown. I bare my teeth before turning away, focusing my attention on guiding Cato up from the bench. He leans heavily into my side, needy and half-lost in the haze.
We make our way back to the inn, pushing through the crowd that’s only grown rowdier as the night deepens.
Cato keeps making soft, frustrated noises under his breath the whole walk, his hand fisting in my coat like he’s afraid I’ll disappear.
By the time we reach our room, he’s practically vibrating against me.
The door closes, and I lean my forehead against it for a moment, steadying myself before I turn to face him.
“Let me help you undress,” I say, guiding him out of his outer layers.
His coat gets tossed aside, and he lifts his arms obediently as I pull his sweater over his head.
Once it’s folded on the table, I unbutton his pants, careful not to brush where I’m aching to touch him.
It leaves him in just a thin t-shirt and his underwear, and I can’t stop my eyes from drifting to the way his cock strains against the fabric.
“Bed,” I insist, steering him toward it.
Cato climbs onto the mattress but doesn’t lie down. He stays on his knees, watching me with glassy, hungry eyes as those soft, needy whimpers slip out again.
I sigh, a fond smile tugging at my lips despite everything. “You’re making all these little noises like a kitten. Living up to your name tonight.”
He whines louder at that, cheeks flushed. “Aryn…”
“Lay back,” I say softly.
“Call me that again,” he begs in a whisper.
Another potent rush of emotion hits me square in the chest, and I stare longingly at the mark shining on his arm. “It’s okay to let go, kitten. I’ve got you.”
He finally obeys, stretching out on his back.
The way the thin material of his underwear hugs his cock is obscene, and he shifts restlessly against the fur blankets.
After a few seconds of fighting it, his hand drifts lower, eyes locked on mine.
He rubs himself over the fabric, moaning quietly as his hips roll into the touch.
I sit on the edge of the bed, watching him like it might feed some of my own desperate need. My voice comes out low. “That’s it… make yourself feel good.”
Cato’s breath hitches. He rubs harder, fingers half-closing over his cock through the fabric. His eyes flutter shut as those soft, desperate sounds spill from his throat, growing louder with every pass.
It doesn’t take long.
His back arches, thighs trembling, and he lets out a broken whine as he comes. His cock jerks, release seeping through the fabric and hips snapping off the bed with each pulse. Among the pleasure-drunk noises, I swear I hear my name on his lips.
I want to hear it again, louder, but I keep my distance.
He slumps against the pillows, chest heaving and freckled cheeks flushed dark. For a moment he just breathes, dazed and beautifully vulnerable.
Then he turns those hazy eyes on me.
“Will you come here?” he begs, voice hoarse.
Gods, the way my heart breaks at the desperation on his face. “Cato, we shouldn’t—”
“I want you,” he whispers. “Lay here with me… that’s all. I just… I feel safe when you’re here.”
I hesitate for only a second before giving in. I strip down to my shirt and underwear and slide into bed beside him. Cato immediately curls into me, burying his face against my chest and throwing one leg over mine. His body is still loose and trembling from his release.
I wrap my arms around him and hold him close, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I’m right here,” I murmur against his hair.
He sighs contentedly, already drifting. “You’ve got my back?”
“Yeah, kitten. I’ve got your back.”
Long after his breathing evens out, I stay wide awake, staring at the wooden beams on the ceiling while his body grows heavy against mine.