This feeling was sensory overload, sight, smell, and touch.
It was so overwhelming, every part of him wanting, needing. It made Sawyer’s eyes roll back, and he wanted to climb inside whatever that feeling was and stay there.
Whatever this was.
Then he was in a strange room, a strange bed, but the scent was familiar. He couldn’t object to being stripped of his clothes. He didn’t want to object to any of it. He needed this.
Warm. Comfortable. Immersed in the heavenly scent that surrounded him. He was drowning in it, willingly.
“What’s wrong with him?” Ciaran asked. “The water affected him like this? How?”
Sawyer could have laughed if he’d been able. He barely managed a moan.
“Not the water,” someone replied. Kellan. “You affected him, Ciaran. You need to complete the mating bond—or sever it.”
Sawyer couldn’t concentrate. He couldn’t think. He was overcome, delirious with this intoxicating scent. God, he was so turned on. Every part of him wanted whatever this was.
Then he remembered Carpenter’s warnings.“Don’t go in the water.”and“Leave while you still can.”
And that made Sawyer laugh. “Need to go back in,” he said, trying to sit up. Into the water, into Ciaran’s arms, into that smell.
A strong hand held him down, the intoxicating scent so much deeper now. The warmth of Ciaran’s touch burned Sawyer’s skin.
Pure ecstasy.
He’d never needed anything more in his life. Sawyer knew it was Ciaran. Heknewit was. But he didn’t care. He needed him, consequences be damned. He reached blindly for him, grabbing the warmth, the scent, pulling him closer, but it wasn’t close enough.
“Stay,” Sawyer begged. His voice sounded strange, even to his own ears. “Please. I need you. Need you to have me. Please.”
Chapter
Twelve
CIARAN
SeeingSawyer in such a state was the most harrowing thing Ciaran had ever experienced.
He was shaking from the cold, writhing and groaning in a mix of pleasure and pain, and Ciaran wanted to let his instinct take over.
“You have to complete the mating bond, or sever it,” Kellan said again.
“Sever it?” Ciaran hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but the thought alone had spiked such a visceral all-body reaction. He’d rather die than sever it.
Actually, severing it would kill him.
That’s how it felt. The thought alone was painful.
He turned to Kellan. “Will it not subside on its own?”
Kellan’s expression was grim. “From what I read, it would have been possible, but...”
“But what?”
“One of you would have had to leave. Separation, in the beginning. Or outright denial.” He winced. “But that didn’t happen.”
“I should have stayed away,” Ciaran mumbled, knowing he couldn’t have.
Wouldn’t have.
