black teeth…”
“They've obviously never met northern dragons, night wolves, or gargoyles,” Tilo replied.
“You've met all those but not a necromancer?”
Tilo made a face. “My father tended to only piss off people he could survive, but they showed up to pick fights frequently. Given how far he had to go to con people…” Tilo shrugged. “I've seen a lot.”
“Yes, I suppose you have,” Rochus said. “One would think it would improve your problem solving skills.”
Tilo narrowed his eyes, then all of a sudden, Rochus was being soundly manhandled again and spread out on the bed much like he'd been on the table several minutes ago. “Just because I must weigh nothing to a dragon doesn't mean you can toss me around—” The words were cut off by an artless but eager kiss, all teeth and tongue and hunger.
Far be it for him to argue. Keep arguing. Whatever. His arms and legs were effectively pinned so Rochus made the most of his mouth. Tilo seemed to have a weakness there anyway. He took back control of the kiss slowly, matching the hungry tone then mellowing it one teasing stroke or nibble at a time, until Tilo was trembling against him and his panting breaths were interspersed with the softest whimpers.
Tilo finally drew back, eyes like a bonfire, and licked his lips. He loosened his grip and Rochus tugged his hands free. He smoothed one hand along Tilo's chest, relishing the heat, the soft skin, the way Tilo moved under his touch. Tilo captured his hand again and leaned in to kiss him.
Blood filled Rochus's mouth, and he drew back with a groan. “You do that like it's the most natural thing in the world.”
Tilo frowned slightly. “Do what?”
“Give me your blood,” Rochus said, chasing his mouth when Tilo pulled too far away, fisting a hand in his hair and dragging him right back down where he wanted. “That's like the teeth: tends to distress people.”
He hadn't thought Tilo's eyes could blaze brighter, but fuck if they didn't turn into an inferno. “I like it. Feels possessive, like you're staking a claim, hoarding something no one else can have.”
Rochus ignored how much he liked that idea and settled for more kissing, scowling when Tilo wriggled free a few minutes later but mostly because the wriggling was primarily against his cock.
“Clothes,” Tilo said. “Get rid of yours.”
“And how am I supposed to do that when I have a dragon on top of me?”
Tilo shifted back and tugged him upright enough to strip off the shirt, then pushed him back down and grinded against him, mouth sucking and kissing along every strip of bare skin he could easily reach.
“Tilo!”
Looking up only long enough to smirk, Tilo began to crawl down Rochus's body, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. Deft fingers unlaced his pants and pushed them away enough to get Rochus's cock out, then that scorching mouth dropped over it and sucked even better than Rochus remembered.
“You're evil. How did I forget how evil you—” he broke off with a groan as Tilo sucked harder, fingers working into the edge of pants to score and prick with the tips of his claws. He pulled away, causing Rochus to swear loudly. “Get back here.”
Tilo laughed. “Patience.”
“Shut up,” Rochus replied and tried to grab him.
Tilo just laughed and pulled his pants off, cast them aside with the rest of their discarded clothes. “That's better.”
“It'll be better still when you get back to work.”
“One more moment,” Tilo said and retrieved his own pants long enough to pull out the small bottle stowed in them.
Rochus glared at him as he climbed back on the bed. “Did you come downstairs planning this?”
“Yes,” Tilo replied and took a long lick of Rochus's cock. “Can I fuck you?”
“I should hope so if you're not going to resume sucking.” The look in Tilo's eyes then, Rochus would have agreed to anything. “For someone so impatient earlier, you're certainly taking your time now.”
Tilo kissed him,
C. J. Cherryh
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