Ever laughed again, the whisper of it warm on Bo’s neck. He kept his hold on Bo’s shirt, grip tightening but not pulling.
“Help? Perhaps I’ll take pity,” Ever murmured, and let Bo’s shirt go. He smoothed the fabric with a delicate touch, heedless of Bo’s bitten-back whimper. “Leave you your shirt.”
“That’d be nice of you.” Bo’s hand tightened on the bedframe. His nails damn near gouged the wood at Ever’s barely there touch at his jeans, tugging at the button of his fly.
Another tug, and the button gave. Bodefinitelymade a noise.
“Of course, sweet.” Ever dragged Bo’s zipper down, unhurried. Still playing, Bo caught as surely as he’d be if wandering toward Ever in his river. “If that’s what keeps this … chaste.”
“So merciful.” Bo managed to breathe, shaking in the effort to keep still. “Not leaving me debauched and wrecked. I’d be grateful.”
“Grateful?” The pressure of Ever’s hand over Bo’s cock through his clothes. Ever’s hips pressed closer, so Bo could feel the line of his cock against his ass.Fuck. “And how do you show your gratitude, sweet? What might you tempt a kelpie with that’s more alluring than having you entirely bare and immodest for me?”
Bodidwhimper then, Ever’s fingers fucking torture. So fucking gentle, and Bo needed so much more.
“Sograteful.” Bo tried to push back, forward, both, either, but Ever kept an arm around his waist, holding him fast. Fucking strong, Bo’s kelpie. “I’ve got my mouth? Throat. I’ll let you take it like you would me, if I were laid out, bare and immodest.”
Bo laughed, or something like it, the sound hitched and hungry. Ravenous, all the more so as Ever traced a line down thethroat Bo’d just offered up.
Something not unlike hesitation threaded through the bond, a soft beat of tension. Like fingers around a wrist to keep from touching. There and away, nudged past as Ever caressed Bo’s neck, made his breath come sharp and shallow with the brush of his lips.
“I– Show me, sweet. Let me see how grateful you can be.” Everil’s fingertips found Bo’s lips, traced the shape of them. “If you’re still feeling … decorous … after, perhaps I’ll leave your chastity un-assailed.”
A game. Same rules, different boundaries. Bo didn’t ask questions. Hadn’t asked Ever if he wanted it on purpose, offered an option, out included, if Ever happened to be a guy who didn’t like getting head.
“You’ll not tempt me, pretty kelpie.” Bo kissed Ever’s fingers. Caught the tip of two between his teeth. He reached for Ever’s hand properly, his own freshly uncurled from the bed. Ever pulling his hand back right away soundedtragic.
Ever’s fingers slid slow into Bo’s mouth. Eager Bo, taking what he could with greedy lips and tongue. Desire reflected and echoed, over and over, Ever pressing his fingers deeper, in and in.
“No chance of temptation?” Ever’s arm relaxed around Bo’s waist, hand taking over where the other left off, stroking slow over Bo’s cock. “Are you certain, sweet?”
Bo wasn’t sure that the sky was blue, to be fucking honest.
He might’ve said so if his brain had half a chance to catch up to Ever’s too-light touch. If he didn’t have Ever’s fingers fucking slow into his mouth, pushing deep, deeper, fucking bold kelpie.
There was no helping Bo’s low, muffled moan or hitch of his hips toward the ghost of a stroke. Barely there, then gone. No weight around his waist anymore, no solid grip at his hip or chest. Only the taste of Ever’s skin on Bo’s tongue, winter and salt, and his chest against Bo’s back kept him grounded.
Bo leaned into him, rocking back, wanton and wanting. He clung to his hand, his hair, and swallowed around Ever’s hungry fingers with a muffled moan. Ever hissed, dragged his teeth against the back of Bo’s neck. Fucking beautiful sound, that hiss.
Bo shuddered, eyes closed, lips wet. Absolutely fucking lost in the moment.
“So lovely in your gratitude,” Ever murmured, catching Bo by the waist again and pulling his fingers out with a farewell scrape of Bo’s teeth to soft skin. “But I fear now I only desire you more.”
“More?” Bo squirmed against Ever, earning himself another hiss. “I can’t imagine what more there could be. We’ve held hands. I’ve tasted the river. Surely there’s little else a greedy, beautiful kelpie might want from me.”
“I fear, sweet Bo, that you’re about to learn. How could I resist taking advantage of someone so very,” he rocked against Bo, deliberate and slow and hard, “pure?”
Bo whimpered, hungry, with the pressure and sharper touches of teeth. Because Bo was a weak, weak man, and wasn’t sorry.
“Wicked kelpie.” Bo swallowed as his jeans gave way to what Ever called faerie-weave. Soft and thin enough to feel the heat between them. “I’ll not fall for your charms.”
The faerie-weave parted easily for Bo, and he wrapped his fingers around his cock. Aching and unsatisfying to touch himself with Ever near. And still enough to pull a moan from him.
Fucking gorgeous, Ever’s hungry sounds being kissed into Bo’s neck, Bo’s tongue on his fingertips. Even better when that hand closed around Bo’s. Guided him in a slow, teasing rhythm, the bastard.
“Entirely wicked,” Ever agreed. A shaking breath and a hard swallow. “You are so incredibly enticing to watch. But I want more of you, my poor, pure human.” Firm grip and slow, so fucking slow, and he was going to drive Bo to whine. “Get on the bed, sweet?”
Was ‘someone asking for what they wanted’ a kink? Bo’d look it up later. Maybe. If he remembered. For now, he had Everaskingfor things, and Bo had only so much ability to play pure instead of gritting out some form of‘fuck me now, thanks.’
