the darkness. With an erotic surge, Blay willed on a lamp across the room, and he was not disappointed with what he saw. His mate was fully aroused, Qhuinn’s eyes burning, his face flushed, his huge shoulders blocking out the illumination.
Oh, and then there was the erection tenting up the front of his track bottoms.
“I’m going to fuck you,” Qhuinn growled.
Blay’s eyes rolled back. “Now. God, now—”
Harsh hands all but demolished his Hermès belt as the thing was whipped out of its loops. And then his fly was treated with no better regard, dragged down roughly with a jerk.
“Do you give a shit about these pants?” Qhuinn asked harshly.
Actually, they were Blay’s favorite pair. He’d put them on to cheer himself up. “Not at all—”
Qhuinn’s hands clamped on the two sides and he yanked the front apart, the fabric tearing—
Before Blay could start begging, Qhuinn’s mouth was right where he wanted it to be, the male sucking his cock, head going up and down, massive arms bowed out on either side. Blay splayed his legs wide and dug his hands into that thick black-and-purple hair. Pumping his hips, he closed his eyes and gave himself up to the pleasure.
Like the reconciliation and the letter-reading, he hadn’t expected this. And one thing continued to be true. Sex with his mate was the great eraser. Even with how scrambled his brain was, this made everything recede. All he knew was Qhuinn.
Well, Qhuinn’s mouth, specifically.
Popping his lids, Blay lifted his head. His shirt was all wedged up his abs, his pants were nothing but the leg parts, and his mate was—
Blay let out an animalistic sound as Qhuinn’s mouth retracted and the tip of Blay’s erection popped out from between those lips. Then it was a case of that tongue extending and that piercing flashing silver in the low light. The flicking was unbelievable, every slip and tickle going through to Blay’s sac.
He didn’t last long.
And that was clearly his lover’s plan. Qhuinn opened wide and sucked it all down, taking the shaft and the head, the orgasms, everything. After the release was over? Blay’s hips kept pumping into that mouth, over and over again.
Until it was suddenly a very different position.
Without warning, Qhuinn flipped him over onto his stomach, dragged his hips up, and—
The contact was wet and slick, and Blay totally fucking lost it. And then the penetration—deep and thick, plunging in and retreating. Driving in again. Pulling out.
Faster, harder, as Blay kicked the pillows out of the way and bore down into the sex, giving it all up to his mate. To keep himself in place as the onslaught intensified, he gripped the edge of the headboard and worked with the rhythm, hanging on and then pushing back, and hanging on and pushing back.
The smell of dark spices thickened the air, and sweat slicked his body, and the bed was banging, and—
Oops, bedside lamp was on the floor. Fortunately, there wasn’t a crash as it landed on the pillows he’d evicted. It also wasn’t the one Blay had turned on.
Qhuinn started to growl, and the smacking sounds behind Blay’s body got louder, everything going next level. And then his mate started to come, Qhuinn’s hips locking in, his cock kicking deep, everything slipping into perfect, blissful alignment.
As Blay closed his eyes and felt his mate’s fangs sink into his shoulder . . . he prayed that this lasted. All of it.
Forever.
And yet even as he reveled in the releases, he still feared the future.
Find a way to cope.
As Qhuinn stepped out of the Brotherhood’s mansion the following evening, that was his mantra. He’d been saying the words over and over again to himself, ever since he’d woken up, naked and sated, in his mate’s arms. By mutual agreement, Blay had stayed on rotation, and after they’d eaten First Meal in their room, Blay had left along with the other brothers to go out into the field.
Qhuinn had chilled on his lonesome for a while, just sitting on the bed and holding his brother’s letter. Gathering his courage.
And now he was here, standing on the front steps of the big house, the cold air in his nose and his lungs, his body braced even though there was barely a breeze and no challenge to his balance. He wasn’t sure he liked where his head was at, his thoughts all disjointed and wired, but he had a feeling that if he waited until he felt more stable about everything . . .