Page 167

Daven was awake by the time he stepped inside. Still sprawled across the bed, one arm behind his head, hair wrecked, eyes heavy with sleep and already fixed on him. His gaze dropped to the cups in Ryneth’s hands, then slid lower, over the shirt hanging open at his throat, over the bare length of his legs, over the fact that Ryneth had clearly stolen something that belonged to him and looked far too pleased about it.

A slow smile curved Daven’s mouth. “Well.” His voice came rough with sleep. “That’s a dangerous thing to wake up to.”

Ryneth approached the bed without taking his eyes off him.

Daven watched the movement. Then his gaze dropped to the marks on Ryneth’s throat. “Come here.”

Ryneth climbed onto the bed, one knee sinking into the mattress beside Daven’s thigh, already warm all over again from the way Daven was looking at him. The coffee had become an excuse the second he had stepped back into the room.

Daven’s hand slid to his hip, thumb pressing into the bare skin under the hem of his shirt. “Put it down, baby.”

Ryneth set the cups on the nightstand without looking away. Then he leaned in, slow on purpose, and brushed his mouth over Daven’s jaw instead of kissing him properly. “Fresh tiganos are in the kitchen. Poor Vandor’s been by already.”

Daven huffed a laugh, but the sound turned rough when Ryneth shifted over him, the shirt falling open a little more at his throat. His palm slid lower, settling hard on Ryneth’s ass. “I don’t want breakfast.”

Ryneth’s mouth curved. “No?”

Daven dragged him closer until he was half over his chest, half trapped under that hand. “I want you on my face.”

Heat punched through Ryneth so fast it stole his breath.

Daven watched it happen. Watched the flush climb his throat. Watched the way his body reacted before his mind caught up. His grip tightened once, possessive enough to make Ryneth’s pulse kick. “Get up here and use my mouth.”

Ryneth swallowed. Then he moved. Slowly, because his body still remembered the night before. Carefully, because the ache between his legs flared the second he shifted over Daven’s hips. And still hungry enough that none of it made him stop.

Daven helped him into place with both hands on him, one locked at his waist, the other gripping under his thigh as he guided him closer. The movement made Ryneth gasp, his cock brushing Daven’s mouth, and then Daven’s tongue flicked over the tip in one slow stroke that made his whole body jolt.

“That’s it.” Daven’s mouth curved around him, lips brushing the head before he licked him again, slow and deliberate, like he meant to taste every reaction out of him. “Pretty thing.”

Ryneth’s breath shook. Daven looked up at him through his lashes, hair a mess against the pillows, mouth still soft from sleep and already working him open, eyes hot enough to make arousal hit all over again. One hand slid higher on Ryneth’s thigh, keeping him spread just enough while the other stayed firm on his hip, holding him exactly where he wanted him.

“You came in here in my shirt,” Daven said, voice rough against his skin. His tongue dragged over the underside of Ryneth’s cock, slow enough to make him shudder. “Brought me coffee. Walked in looking like that.” His mouth curved. “You were asking for trouble.”

Ryneth made a small sound that might have been a laugh if he hadn’t already been breathing too hard. “You were already trouble.”

Daven’s fingers flexed on him. “And you still came back.”

“Always.”

Something hot flashed across Daven’s face at that. He tipped his head and took Ryneth deeper, suckling on him slow, tongue pressing under the head before he pulled back just enough to do it again.

Ryneth moaned, hips jerking before he could stop them. “Oh, fuck.”

Daven made a pleased sound against him and licked him again, longer this time, like he was in no hurry at all. His hand tightened on Ryneth’s hip when he tried to move too much, keeping him right where he wanted him while he worked him with slow, filthy patience.

Daven kept going, slow enough to make it unbearable, his mouth working him with patient, deliberate pressure that made Ryneth’s knees weaken and his breath come apart almost at once. The pressure built fast, and Ryneth already knew he wasn’t going to last.

“Daven,” he gasped, fingers tightening in his hair. “Fuck, I’m⁠—”

Daven pulled off with a wet sound, a grin flashing across his face. “That’s it, baby. Use me.”

Then he took him back in, deeper this time. Ryneth’s head tipped back. One hand braced uselessly against the headboard while the other stayed buried in Daven’s hair. His hips jerked. His thighs shook. Every drag of Daven’s mouth pushed him closer until he was openly moaning, wrecked enough that he didn’t care what he sounded like.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathed. “Feels so good. Daven.”

Daven only made a pleased sound and kept going.

Ryneth was shaking now. His toes curled into the sheets. His grip tightened hard enough to tug at Daven’s hair as Daven kept him right on the edge.