Kellan stood up. “Okay, I think he’s fine. Ciaran, feed him?—”
Ciaran purred, his gaze melting into Sawyer’s, and that made Fray laugh out loud. “Food, Ciar. He meant actual food.”
“We’ll leave you to it,” Kellan said, picking up his med kit.
“No, wait,” Sawyer said. “I have questions.” But then he looked back at Ciaran, as if torn between needing information and staying in bed. “How... how does the bond work? Like, the sex part. You said if we have sex, we’re bonded? How does that work? Can you only have sex with prospective mates?”
“No. We can have casual sex,” Kellan answered. “But once the bond initiates, sex becomes something different.”
“Different how?” Sawyer made a face. “I’m not asking about.... What I’m trying to ask is what happens during the bonding sex that makes it different? Why does that complete the bond?”
“The act of claiming,” Ciaran said. He was trying to keep his voice neutral, to answer the questions without the emotion or the desire. It was more difficult than he expected. He couldn’t get the visuals out of his head, imagining Sawyer naked beneath him. “Uh...”
“Once the bond has initiated,” Kellan said, thankfully taking control of the conversation. “The act of sex, the claiming, the owning, is cemented by the biochemical exchange, and you will be, for the lack of a better word, genetically coded to each other.”
“Biochemical exchange?” Sawyer asked slowly.
Fray snorted. “You gotta rawdog it. But it’s fine. Our kind can’t carry STIs.”
Ciaran growled at Fray, and Sawyer sat up and looked at Ciaran’s chest, then his face. “Okay. First off, what is that noise? Because holy fuck, it’s hot. And second, when he says exchange, he means you need to... finish... inside me?”
The guttural sound Ciaran made this time should have embarrassed him, but he had no room for shame when every ounce of self-control was spent on not taking Sawyer right then and there. He didn’t care who watched.
Then Sawyer’s pupils blew out, he licked the corner of his mouth, and he hummed. “That’s fucking hot.”
Kellan startled them by clapping his hands. “Can we focus. Sawyer, do you have more questions?”
He blinked himself back to reason. “Uh, yes. Of course.”
“Then can I suggest getting dressed,” Kellan said. “We can talk out in the office, not in your bedroom, which reeks of...”
“Sex,” Fray supplied. “And they haven’t even done it yet. Can you imagine how bad it’s gonna be after they do?”
Kellan grimaced. “Mm. Perhaps I can suggest you go to the hut for the ritual itself. Give us here in a town a break from the...”
Fray fanned his nose. “Sex pheromones.”
“Fuck off,” Ciaran mumbled, though he couldn’t help but smile.
They were now talking aboutwhenit would happen, not if.
Could he dare to hope?
Was Sawyer actually considering being his mate?
“He needs to eat,” Kellan reminded him. “His human metabolism is different from ours, as is his blood sugar.”
Then Sawyer made a face, and he was pale again. “Now that you’ve mentioned food,” he said, “I think I need to eat.”
Kellan made a disapproving sound from the door. “Sawyer, get dressed. Ciaran, make him something to eat. If we’re going to answer questions, it could take a while.”
Ciaran gave a nod and helped Sawyer off the bed. “Can I make you something to eat in your kitchen?” he asked gently.
Sawyer’s soft smile told Ciaran he appreciated being asked. “Sure.”
Ciaran found enough ingredients for a sandwich, which he was plating when Sawyer came out of his room. He was fully dressed in jeans and a navy-blue sweater. He even had socks on. He was wearing a nervous smile interrupted by him chewing on his bottom lip.
“Everything okay?” Ciaran asked. He was grateful for this moment of quiet, of privacy.
