grinned. “Because you are the one who is troubled.”
Ryan sighed. “Yes.”
Salathiel curled his hand around Ryan’s neck and drew him closer. “Don’t be afraid,” he whispered and kissed him.
There had been near kisses in the past. Caresses. Fleeting touches. Heated looks. Just like with Nia, all of them paled when compared to this moment, the actuality.
Ryan groaned and let his senses drown in the kiss. He had anticipated this moment. Wanted it. Now the moment was here and it was as sweet as any he had shared with Nia last night.
Ryan let Salathiel draw him toward the bed. His heart, normally under his control, had become its own master. It was running a tattoo against his ribs, beating frantically.
Salathiel stepped backwards, his hand on Ryan’s hip tugging him a pace at a time. His lips did not leave Ryan’s as he moved.
Until they were standing at the edge of the bed. Salathiel let Ryan go and simply looked at him. “I did not think kissing you would be as good as it is,” he said simply. “Even though I have wanted to for so long.”
Ryan found the laugh rising to his lips naturally. It felt good. He reached for Salathiel, sliding his arm around Lathe’s waist. “Lathe, you’re a beautiful man.”
Salathiel frowned. “No, I’m not. Even Nia says I’m not. My nose is too big, my chin too wide. You, on the other hand—”
Ryan shook his head. “I wasn’t talking about appearance.” He gave Salathiel another quick kiss, but it turned into a long, lingering sensual one. The mood changed between them. Passion flared.
Ryan could feel the rising of nearly a year of wanting and lust, waiting to be fulfilled, starting to drive both their bodies. Now that he was free to touch and take, his mind was filled with possibilities, with potential. His hand trembled as he stroked Lathe’s body, sliding his hand down to cup the man’s hard buttock and squeeze it. He was rewarded with a groan and the shift of Lathe’s hip. The jerk of his pelvis, which made his rigid shaft brush softly against Ryan’s hip. The delicate brush was like the touch of a chill breeze on a hot summer’s day. It sent ripples down Ryan’s spine and tightened already screaming nerves to fraying point.
Salathiel was the first to fall to his knees and Ryan clenched his jaw to hold back a deep moan as Salathiel slid his hands the length of Ryan’s thighs.
The first touch of Lathe’s hand around his member drove Ryan’s hand into his hair, to curl around his thick, wavy locks and clench. Ryan’s breathing became heavier.
Lathe’s lips slid over the tip of his shaft, driving him deep into his mouth. Heat and moisture. Delicious sensations slammed through Ryan’s mind and body. His hips jerked and he heard himself groan again. But Lathe didn’t spare him. His mouth worked his shaft with a knowing touch and Ryan’s pleasure swiftly built toward a stunning peak. He vibrated with the intensity of it. “Lathe,” he breathed. “Have mercy...”
But Lathe did not spare him. The climax blasted through Ryan like a volcanic eruption and he cried out as his body seemed to lock and drain in hard, furious jerks.
There was no chance for recovery or ease. His heart still thundered as Salathiel stood, a crooked grin on his face. “That was worth it, just to hear that sound from you.” His own shaft was thick with blood, dark with it, proving that Lathe had enjoyed himself more than a little. He circled around behind Ryan again, only this time, he was not nearly as cautious. His body brushed and bumped against Ryan, his shaft stroking his hip in a hot swipe of flesh that made Ryan shiver in reaction.
Lathe ran his hands up Ryan’s back. “You are so pale.”
“It comes from being a vampire,” Ryan said. “I can only withstand a little sun, especially here.”
“Your flesh is much whiter than a Byzantine’s,” Lathe said. “It’s not just the vampire in you.”
“It’s the Celt in me,” Ryan replied. He caught his
Ryan sighed. “Yes.”
Salathiel curled his hand around Ryan’s neck and drew him closer. “Don’t be afraid,” he whispered and kissed him.
There had been near kisses in the past. Caresses. Fleeting touches. Heated looks. Just like with Nia, all of them paled when compared to this moment, the actuality.
Ryan groaned and let his senses drown in the kiss. He had anticipated this moment. Wanted it. Now the moment was here and it was as sweet as any he had shared with Nia last night.
Ryan let Salathiel draw him toward the bed. His heart, normally under his control, had become its own master. It was running a tattoo against his ribs, beating frantically.
Salathiel stepped backwards, his hand on Ryan’s hip tugging him a pace at a time. His lips did not leave Ryan’s as he moved.
Until they were standing at the edge of the bed. Salathiel let Ryan go and simply looked at him. “I did not think kissing you would be as good as it is,” he said simply. “Even though I have wanted to for so long.”
Ryan found the laugh rising to his lips naturally. It felt good. He reached for Salathiel, sliding his arm around Lathe’s waist. “Lathe, you’re a beautiful man.”
Salathiel frowned. “No, I’m not. Even Nia says I’m not. My nose is too big, my chin too wide. You, on the other hand—”
Ryan shook his head. “I wasn’t talking about appearance.” He gave Salathiel another quick kiss, but it turned into a long, lingering sensual one. The mood changed between them. Passion flared.
Ryan could feel the rising of nearly a year of wanting and lust, waiting to be fulfilled, starting to drive both their bodies. Now that he was free to touch and take, his mind was filled with possibilities, with potential. His hand trembled as he stroked Lathe’s body, sliding his hand down to cup the man’s hard buttock and squeeze it. He was rewarded with a groan and the shift of Lathe’s hip. The jerk of his pelvis, which made his rigid shaft brush softly against Ryan’s hip. The delicate brush was like the touch of a chill breeze on a hot summer’s day. It sent ripples down Ryan’s spine and tightened already screaming nerves to fraying point.
Salathiel was the first to fall to his knees and Ryan clenched his jaw to hold back a deep moan as Salathiel slid his hands the length of Ryan’s thighs.
The first touch of Lathe’s hand around his member drove Ryan’s hand into his hair, to curl around his thick, wavy locks and clench. Ryan’s breathing became heavier.
Lathe’s lips slid over the tip of his shaft, driving him deep into his mouth. Heat and moisture. Delicious sensations slammed through Ryan’s mind and body. His hips jerked and he heard himself groan again. But Lathe didn’t spare him. His mouth worked his shaft with a knowing touch and Ryan’s pleasure swiftly built toward a stunning peak. He vibrated with the intensity of it. “Lathe,” he breathed. “Have mercy...”
But Lathe did not spare him. The climax blasted through Ryan like a volcanic eruption and he cried out as his body seemed to lock and drain in hard, furious jerks.
There was no chance for recovery or ease. His heart still thundered as Salathiel stood, a crooked grin on his face. “That was worth it, just to hear that sound from you.” His own shaft was thick with blood, dark with it, proving that Lathe had enjoyed himself more than a little. He circled around behind Ryan again, only this time, he was not nearly as cautious. His body brushed and bumped against Ryan, his shaft stroking his hip in a hot swipe of flesh that made Ryan shiver in reaction.
Lathe ran his hands up Ryan’s back. “You are so pale.”
“It comes from being a vampire,” Ryan said. “I can only withstand a little sun, especially here.”
“Your flesh is much whiter than a Byzantine’s,” Lathe said. “It’s not just the vampire in you.”
“It’s the Celt in me,” Ryan replied. He caught his
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