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Ryneth tipped his head back and let the water strike his throat, hating how good it felt.
He reached for the soap on the ledge, fumbling slightly with his wet fingers before he got it open and poured a thick line into his palm. The scent rose at once, rich enough to make him feel like it still didn’t belong on him.
He dragged it over his chest, his shoulders, his arms. Over the dips of his ribs where his body still felt too thin. Over his stomach, where the warmth made him feel like he was melting from the inside out.
For a few seconds, he let himself enjoy it. Slick warmth, roaring water, heated stone under his feet.
It should have made him furious. Instead, it made his skin prickle.
Ryneth rinsed slowly. Thoroughly. Like he was trying to wash off the car, the arena lights, Lysa’s face, and the whole fucking night.
Like he could scrub away the way his body still remembered Daven’s hands.
He reached for the bottle again, poured more soap, and worked it through his hair, fingers scratching his scalp until the tension eased a fraction.
Daven entered the room, naked, carrying two coffees. He set the mugs on the vanity and looked at Ryneth through the spray.
“Drink after,” he said, his voice low. “Right now, I want you against the wall, and I want you quiet while I take care of you.”
Then he stepped into the shower and dropped to his knees in front of him like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Ryneth’s stomach flipped. Of course he fucking did.
He tried to shove Daven’s shoulder back, his palm slipping on the wet skin. “Light—what are you doing?”
Daven didn’t answer. He just looked up through his thick eyelashes, amber eyes flashing with malice. Then he smiled and bared his teeth, the light catching the flash of his jeweled incisors. “That’s right. I’m looking forward to playing with my treat.”
Ryneth swallowed, his throat working. “Daven, I—”
Daven’s tongue slid over his bottom lip, eyes dragging to Ryneth’s heated groin. “Already hard,” he murmured. “And you’re still pretending you don’t want me on my knees.”
Ryneth’s face burned.
Daven wrapped his hand around Ryneth’s cock, his rings pressing into the base while his thumb circled beneath.
Ryneth’s head hit the wall. “Don’t—Daven.” His words died into a low moan when Daven’s thumb pressed harder, his hips jerking forward on instinct as his static flickered and died.
“Look at you,” Daven murmured, smearing the slick over the head of Ryneth’s cock. “Already this worked up, and you’re still trying to act like you don’t want me watching. Such a beautiful liar.”
Daven leaned in, his mouth brushing over the sensitive skin before he looked up at him again, like he already knew exactly what Ryneth was fighting.
Ryneth’s world narrowed to the feel of him, to the heat, the pressure, the humiliating rush of how good it felt.
Good Light, it felt good.
His knees buckled. He tried to pull back, his heels sliding on the stone, but Daven’s other hand locked around the back of his thigh. Ryneth gave up, fisting Daven’s blond hair and arching into him.
Daven didn’t stop, one hand holding him steady while the other moved over him, his rings dragging lightly over his skin. “You taste like mine,” he murmured against him, his voice rough. “Keep shaking for me. You act like you don’t want it, but you still can’t refuse me.”
“Please,” Ryneth panted. He wasn’t sure what he was begging for. He just knew he didn’t want Daven to stop. Not ever.
Daven only pushed him higher, looking far too pleased with himself as blue light flickered under the water and danced over his shoulders. The sting of those jeweled incisors made Ryneth gasp. “That’s it, baby. You look so good like this.”
Ryneth arched hard and came with a broken curse, his body jerking as Daven held him steady through it.
Daven looked up at him with a smug, ruined mouth, still holding him in place until the last of it had passed.
And Ryneth despised how easily he’d given in once again.