There was a strange beat of stillness between them then. Riven wasn’t sure what he expected—maybe another kiss, maybe a lecture, maybe some kind of reassurance.
But all he got was Thane’s hand lifting to his face again, this time slower, fingers brushing over his jaw. A quiet, possessive touch that made Riven’s stomach knot in a way that had nothing to do with nerves.
“Ready?” Thane asked.
Riven nodded. “As I’ll ever be.”
And with that, Thane opened the door.
Chapter 55
The car was the same one they’d taken the night Riven had begged Thane to let him come along on a stakeout—dark, quiet inside except for the low purr of the engine and the occasional hiss of tires along wet pavement. Riven eased into the passenger seat, careful of his leg, but once seated, he couldn’t ignore the familiarity of the space.
Or the memory.
The seat beneath him still felt like sin. He couldn’t look at the gearshift without remembering bracing his hand there for leverage, couldn’t glance at the spot between Thane’s legs without recalling the sound he’d made when Riven had opened his mouth over the thick length of him, hungry and reckless and eager to prove something.
The taste was still in his head. He shifted in his seat.
Thane noticed.
Of course he did.
One hand on the wheel, the other relaxed on the console, he didn’t even bother hiding the amusement in his voice. “You’re unusually quiet.”
Riven didn’t answer.
Thane turned his head slightly, not taking his eyes off the road for long, but long enough to pin Riven in place with a knowing look.
“I was just wondering,” he mused, tone lazy, dangerous, “if you’re capable of sitting in this car without thinking about sucking my cock.”
Heat flared to life at the base of Riven’s spine so fast it felt like a spell. His throat went dry. He clenched his hands in his lap and looked stubbornly out the window.
“I’ll take that as a no,” Thane said wickedly.
“You’re impossible,” Riven muttered.
“Mm. Not my fault you’re so easy to distract.” Thane shifted gears fluidly. “I should be offended you’re letting your mind wander when we’re about to walk into a potential death trap.”
“I’m not distracted,” Riven said, a little too fast.
“Sure,” Thane drawled. “That’s why you’re practically vibrating.”
Riven bit his lip, trying to swallow the frustration—or was it desire? The lines had blurred days ago.
He turned his head just enough to look at Thane. The elf’s profile in the dark was sharp and unyielding. The clean line of his jaw. The slope of his neck. The calm in him, always, even when violence waited around the corner. That calm was addictive.
“I remember every second of it,” Riven said before he could stop himself.
That got Thane’s attention.
“Oh?” he asked, smiling without looking. “Every second of what?”
Riven could feel the grin in his voice, and that made it worse.
“You know what.”
“I’m asking because I want to hear you say it.”
