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Sazahk’s heartbeat quickened. “By me in particular, or would any male body elicit a similar magnitude of response?”
Garin blushed but didn’t break eye contact. “By you in particular, if I’m honest, Sazahk.”
Sazahk’s stomach flipped inside out. Garin wanted him.
“I’m sorry.” Garin cringed and pushed on Sazahk’s hips, but Sazahk shook his head and held on to the front of Garin’s shirt.
“An apology isn’t necessary. It makes sense that your body would associate mine with pleasure after my part in your most recent sexually satisfying encounter.”
Garin cringed again, and his shoulders hunched, but the action just brought him closer to Sazahk. “I don’t think it’s just that, Sazahk.”
“Would you be averse to seeking pleasure with me again?” Sazahk tried to keep the yearning out of his own voice. The urgent affection he’d felt as he’d held Garin’s sleeping form grew painful as Garin visibly wrestled with his own desire.
Garin’s eyes flicked across Sazahk’s face, searching. “Are you asking that question for science or are you leading somewhere?”
“Both.” Sazahk trailed his gaze down the column of Garin’s throat to his pulse fluttering under his skin, then back up to Garin’s eyes. “I told you I wanted baseline measurements of your normal sexual response.”
Garin chewed on his lip, and Sazahk twisted his hips in his grip, tormented by the knowledge that Garin’s hard length lay only an inch away from him. “Are you propositioning me, Sazahk?”
“Yes.”
“For science?”
And to satisfy his own desire. But Sazahk nodded. “Yes. And for you.”
“I don’t need you to get me off?—”
“But you want me to.” Sazahk knew that. He knew Garin craved Sazahk’s hands on his body and Sazahk wanted to put them there so badly he felt as crazy as people said he was.
He also knew Garin’s desire for him was a function of their forced proximity and isolation, combined with the lingering bond-promoting hormones released during their last encounter. It wasn’t a function of Garin’s actual interest in Sazahk as a partner.
But that didn’t matter right now.
Sazahk edged his fingertip up past the fabric of Garin’s shirt collar and grazed his skin. “You want me to touch you.”
Garin swallowed again and kneaded Sazahk’s hip. When he spoke, his voice came out in a whisper. “Yes.”
“And I want to.” Sazahk leaned in until their breaths mingled and Garin’s heart raced against his own. “Let me?”
“Fuck, Sazahk.” Garin finally tugged Sazahk’s hips back against his and they both moaned at the contact. “I’ll let you do anything you want to me.”
“I just want to make you come again.” Sazahk braced his hand beside Garin’s head and thrust their hips together, already panting with anticipation. “And I want to know everything about how you do it.”
Every sound, every twitch, every expression, every taste, every smell, Sazahk wanted to know everything there was to know about Garin in the throes of pleasure. What made him shake, what made him moan, what made him beg and whine? What did Sazahk have to do to wring him out so thoroughly he existed in nothing but his own body, free of all his pressures and responsibilities?
“I want you naked.” Sazahk slipped his hand under the hem of Garin’s shirt and skated his palm up the man’s warm skin and flexing muscles.
“Okay.” Garin went for his pants immediately, popping the button and dragging down the zipper before lifting his arms for Sazahk to sweep off his shirt.
Sazahk tossed the shirt away and bent over Garin’s body to mouth along his collarbones. The gnarled skin and raised roughness of scars met Sazahk’s lips and tongue as he kissed down Garin’s chest. So much violence for a man with so much kindness.
Remembering Garin’s desperate grip as he’d come, Sazahk grabbed Garin’s hand and placed a kiss in the center of his palm. Then he pushed Garin’s hand up into his hair. “Touch me as much as you want. Just stay away from my neck.”
The thought of Garin’s warm palm closing over Sazahk’s incision site put a sour pit in Sazahk’s stomach, but he shook it out. If he told Garin not to touch him there, he wouldn’t.
“Are you sure?” Garin asked even as he unraveled Sazahk’s braid and drew his hand through his hair.
“I’m sure.” Sazahk kissed down the horrible scar cutting over Garin’s left ribs, then nosed to Garin’s pectoral muscle and licked a broad stripe across his nipple. “Your hands feel good.”
