back. There was some other movement at that point, and then he felt himself get repositioned against pillows that had been returned to their rightful place. Finally, a lightweight blanket was settled halfway up his body, as if Qhuinn knew that he was just about too hot to have any more coverage, and yet already feeling the chill as the sweat that covered him started to dry.
His hair was brushed back from his forehead, and then his head was eased to the side. Lips like silk kissed down the column of his neck, and then long, slow lapping sealed the puncture wounds that he had asked for and been given.
When it was done, he allowed his head to be turned toward Qhuinn. Even though it was pitch dark, he knew exactly what the face staring into his own looked like - flush on the cheeks, half-mast lids, lips red -
The kiss that was pressed against his own mouth was reverent, the contact no heavier than the warm, still air in the room. It was the consummate lover's kiss, the kind of thing he had wanted even more than the hot sex they'd just had -
Panic struck in the center of his chest and resonated outward through him in the blink of an eye.
His hands shot out of their own volition, shoving Qhuinn away. "Don't touch me. Don't you touch me like that - ever."
He sprang up off the bed and landed God only knew where in the room. Fumbling around, he hit various pieces of furniture, but then was able to orientate himself by the thin line of light that shone under the way out.
Grabbing his robe from the floor, he did not look back as he left.
Couldn't bear to see the aftermath in any kind of light.
That made it all too real.
Eventually, Qhuinn had to will the lights in his bedroom on. He couldn't stand the darkness any longer.
As illumination flooded the space, he blinked hard and had to put his arms up to shield his eyes. After things recalibrated in retina-land, he looked around.
Chaos. Total chaos.
So all of that had actually happened, huh. And how ironic that the inside of his head made this goddamn mess look military-order in comparison.
Don't you touch me like that.
Ah, hell, he thought as he scrubbed his face. He couldn't blame the guy.
For one thing, he'd shown about as much finesse as a bulldozer. Wrecking ball. Armed tank. The problem was, it had all been too much to show any patience: Instinct, as pure as octane and just as flammable, had lit him up - the session had been a case of letting the shit out.
Oh, God, he'd marked the guy.
Fuck. Not exactly good form, considering Blay was already in love and in a relationship...and going back to his lover's bed.
Then again, when a male was with the one he wanted, especially if it was the first time, that was what happened. Hell broke loose....
It went without saying that it had been the best sex of his life, the first right fit after a long history of not-even-closes. The thing was, at the end, he'd wanted Blay to know that, had been searching for words and relying on touch to pave the way to the confession.
But it was clear the male didn't want to get close like that.
Which brought up a second, even more profound regret.
Revenge sex was not about attraction; it was about utility. And Blay had used him, just like he'd asked to be used.
That hollow feeling came back tenfold. A hundredfold.
Unable to stand the emotion, he burst up to his feet, and had to curse: The notable tightness in his lower back had fuck-all to do with the airplane accident, and everything to do with the pneumatics he'd just spent the last hour...or longer...throwing around.
Shit.
Going into the bath, he left the lights off, but there was more than enough to go by from the bedroom as he turned on the shower. This time, he waited for the water to get warm - his body was not up for another shocker.
It was so pathetic, but the last thing he wanted was to wash Blay's scent off his skin, but he was being driven mad from it. God, this must be what the hellrens in the house felt like when they got all possessive: He was of half a mind to stalk down the hall, burst into Blay's room, and shove Saxton out of the way. Matter of fact, he