Ryland obediently hushed, stared up at Arslan and prayed.
“Hush, pet,” Arslan whispered again.
A second later he’d undone the button at the top of Ryland’s fly and was already sliding down the zip.Ryland held his breath as deft fingers pushed aside both denim and cotton boxers.Finally, Arslan had his hand was wrapped snugly around Ryland’s dick.
Ryland dropped his head forward onto Arslan’s shoulder as his mind spun.The professor’s hand was hot, the palm rough against his erection.There was no inter-species learning curve—Arslan obviously already knew everything there was to know about how a human man wanted to be touched.
“Please don’t stop, sir,” Ryland whispered.A few strokes would be all he needed.He knew he’d be embarrassed to look back on that fact later, but right then, the only important thing was for Arslan not to stop before he came.
“Hush, pet.I’ve got you.Just let your master take care of you now.”
Ryland nodded against the professor’s shoulder.
Arslan’s grip tightened around Ryland’s cock.His hand moved more quickly.Ryland thrust forward, rubbing himself against Arslan’s palm.Arslan slid his other hand down Ryland’s spine and settled it on his backside, nudging him forward and encouraging him to move however he pleased.
Ryland tightened his grip on the professor’s shirt as he buried his face in his shoulder to muffle the sounds of his pleasure.He wasn’t sure how successful he was at concealing his moans and gasps, but right then, it was hard to care if every mathematician in the building heard him.Bucking against Arslan’s hand, he came hard and fast, spilling into the professor’s palm.
The force of his orgasm stole all the oxygen out of the room.Ryland couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t think.He couldn’t even bring himself to care about his inability to do any of those things.Arslan was there, the ache that had been building inside him since he’d left Arslan’s car had dissolved, and the world was a bloody brilliant place.
Arslan brushed his lips back and forth across the top of Ryland’s head as Ryland fell still within his embrace.That was the only movement Arslan made.He left his hand tucked inside Ryland’s fly, holding him in his palm as Ryland softened and finally remembered how to make his lungs work.
They remained there, standing in the middle of his tiny office for so long, Ryland stopped doubting that he was the only one who didn’t want to step back and return to reality.Eventually, Arslan moved.He took his hand away.Ryland looked up at him and received another gentle kiss for his effort.
It should have been awkward, Arslan retrieving a sticky hand from inside Ryland’s fly, him tidying up his clothes, a scrambled search for tissues.It should all have been very embarrassing.In spite of everything Ryland was sure he should have been anxious about, he could never remember feeling so safe, so right in himself, so accepted.
Reaching out, he touched the lock of Arslan’s hair that had escaped from the leather tie at the nape of his neck.He wasn’t sure if it was an appropriate time to ask exactly what Arslan had meant when he’d called himself his master, when he’d called him his pet.
Back in the den, the terms hadn’t seemed so strange.Even now, when they were in the real world, it felt strangely rude to need to ask what Arslan meant by them.Something inside Ryland nodded its acceptance of it all, as if it made perfect sense, leaving the rest of him to shuffle its feet and feel appallingly slow on the uptake.
Arslan turned his head and pressed a kiss onto Ryland’s knuckles.Ryland blushed.That sort of romantic little gesture wasn’t at all what he expected from Arslan.
Arslan wasn’t the kind of professor who wanted to be friends with his students.He was damn near the only one of the staff who didn’t invite anyone to call him by his first name—not even other members of the faculty.It was hard to merge the image of Arslan standing in front of the lecture hall, scaring fact after fact into the students’ heads, with someone who would be so sweet.
Then, a picture flashed into the front of Ryland’s mind, reminding him of the way the other lions had kissed and nuzzled each other.It wasn’t romantic—it was feline.Ryland felt his blush deepen at how far out of his depth he really was.
Ducking his head, he nudged Arslan’s shoulder with his temple, pretty sure that was considered a friendly gesture between lions.Arslan slipped his hand into Ryland’s hair and held him close, encouraging him to rest against his body.He pressed a kiss against his temple, almost as if he was as pleased with that little nudge as he had been with the blowjob.
Ryland smiled against Arslan’s shoulder, resting his hands carefully on Arslan’s waist as he tried to remember what else he had seen the other lions do, tried to work out what to do next.
“Your instincts exist for a reason, pet,” Arslan whispered, making an obvious effort to soften his voice.“Trust them.”
Ryland nodded.
His instincts told him that nothing more was required of him right then than to lean against Arslan and feel content.They also repeated to him exactly what they’d been telling him ever since Arslan made his offer—the only way he could ever convince Arslan to take him seriously was to be able to look him in the eye and tell him why he’d had to say no to him in front of all the other lions, to be able to tell him that he’d fixed the problem and beg his forgiveness properly.
He could do that.This time, he could fix things with the person he loved.Ryland closed his eyes a little tighter and tried to re-write the thought into something that didn’t involve that particular word.When it became obvious no other word made sense, he pushed the entire concept aside in favour of another aspect of his need to fix things.Speed.He had to fix things quickly, because there was no way in hell he could cope with being away from Arslan for longer than a few days.
“This Saturday, when someone is thrown to the lions.You’ll be there, sir?”he asked, barely able to make the words a whisper, let alone anything louder.
“Yes.”
Ryland pulled back a fraction and looked up at the professor.
Arslan nodded as if he understood why Ryland had asked, as if he realised who Ryland hoped Arslan would accept being delivered to the den that night.There was also a certain light in his eyes that made Ryland reasonably sure that Arslan was merely humouring him by letting him come back to him that way.
That was okay.Ryland’s instincts told him that a lion would understand why it was so important once he heard the explanation.With Arslan’s encouragement still fresh in his mind, all he could do was hope that instinct was as right as the others.
Nothing else was really said before the professor left the room.Within a few minutes, Ryland was alone in his little office, staring at the space his folder of history essays had occupied.
