And still, that smirk.
Thane was watching him with silver eyes full of fire and pride, like he knew the effect he had on Riven—and relished it.
Riven leaned down and pressed a kiss just below Thane’s collarbone, where a blade-shaped tattoo rested above his heart.
Then another, farther down, lips brushing over the curve of an inky rune he couldn’t translate.
He let his mouth trail lower, hot and reverent, lips parted as he traced the slope of Thane’s sternum. His hands moved across firm muscle, following the lines of tattoos with his fingertips, mapping them like a blind man memorizing the story of someone else’s body.
When he reached one of Thane’s nipples, he flicked his tongue across it before sucking it gently into his mouth.
Thane drew in a breath through his teeth, chest rising beneath Riven’s hands.
That sound made something tight coil in Riven’s belly. He sucked again, then gave a playful bite before soothing it with his tongue. His fingers found the other nipple and pinched lightly, drawing another low hum from Thane.
Thane’s hand settled in his hair—gentle, but possessive.
Riven looked up, flushed, panting faintly.
Thane was staring at him like he was something exquisite. Like he was his.
“You’re enjoying this,” Riven said, voice low and ragged.
“Obviously,” Thane murmured, the corner of his mouth curling up in that infuriating way.
Riven grinned, hungry and reckless, and bent back down to give him even more to enjoy.
Riven shifted lower, sliding down Thane’s body with agonizing intent, letting his hands and lips trace every inch of skin on their way. His fingers hooked into the waistband of Thane’s pants, dragging them down with purpose, slow enough to be maddening. The fabric caught briefly on Thane’s thighs, and Riven took his time—pressing open-mouthed kisses to the skin just beside where he really wanted to go.
Thane exhaled a sharp breath, hips twitching as Riven kissed the crease of his thigh, then the soft skin just above his pelvis. He skirted the prize entirely, brushing his lips down one side of the outline in Thane’s underwear, then the other, letting his cheek press against the hard, barely restrained shape of his cock.
He nuzzled into it, let his breath puff hot through the thin fabric, feeling the twitch of response from the heat beneath.
“Riven,” Thane warned, voice dark and curling with restrained need.
But Riven only smiled, and mouthed at him again, lips parting over the hardness of Thane’s cock through the cloth, dragging his tongue slow along the ridge until Thane’s hips shifted upward in a subtle plea.
Riven’s fingers found the edge of his boxer briefs and eased them down, finally baring the full weight and heat of Thane’s cock and balls.
Gods.
Even now—maybe especially now—he felt overwhelmed by it. The sheer size, the beauty of him, heavy and flushed and already leaking slightly at the tip. Riven wrapped a hand around the base and leaned in, not to take him, not yet, but to kiss around him. Around the shaft, the base, the curve of his pelvis.
He avoided the main attraction entirely—on purpose.
His lips brushed along the tender skin of Thane’s inner thigh, then lower, until he was kissing just beneath the swell of his balls. He let his tongue slip out and flick lightly, slowly, tastingsalt and skin, teasing there with gentle licks until Thane made a sound that was dangerously close to a growl.
Then Riven started to lick his balls in earnest, slow and indulgent, watching as Thane’s cock twitched with each pass, fully hard and aching now.
He cradled them in his hands, sucked one into his mouth, and rolled it against his tongue, savoring the way Thane’s breathing changed, the hand tightening in his hair.
“Fuck,” Thane bit out, and the next moment his cock flexed—tapping against Riven’s cheek in an unmistakable demand.
Riven turned his face and pressed a kiss to the thick shaft, then another.
He looked up at Thane, eyes burning, pupils blown wide.
“You want it?” he asked softly, his voice almost reverent.
