“Yes. I can’t fight it. I don’t want to fight this. Nothing in my life has ever felt so right. So let’s go to the hut and do this.” Then he shrugged. “Or take me right here on the desk. I don’t give a fuck who hears us,” Sawyer said, way past desperate. “Just make me yours, Ciaran.”
Chapter
Eighteen
CIARAN
Hearing Sawyer beg,hearing the desperation in his voice, almost did Ciaran in.
He wanted it. He wanted to complete the bond. Well, okay, so a small niggling voice in the back of Ciaran’s mind kept shouting,“No, he just wants to fuck. This is purely hormones and pheromones talking.”
Ciaran wanted to take Sawyer right there on the desk as he’d suggested, but he knew—heknew—he’d never forgive himself if the bond was only completed because Sawyer was so horny, he couldn’t think straight.
This was a bell that could not be unrung.
Ciaran needed to be sure. He needed to know without an ounce of doubt that Sawyer understood what he was getting himself into.
If they completed the bond prematurely, without fully understanding the gravity of what it meant, and Sawyer ever questioned the legitimacy of his own feelings—if he ever questioned his own free will—it would kill Ciaran.
Literally.
Ciaran needed to be sure.
Especially with everything else going on right now.
Ciaran put his hand against Sawyer’s chest. He could feel the thump of his heart, the thrum of his pulse. The look of pure want in his eyes....
Mercy.
“Are you sure?” Ciaran asked.
Sawyer’s reply was immediate and filled with conviction. “Yes.”
Ciaran was almost vibrating with the restraint it took to stay in control, but somehow, some-fucking-how, he managed to push Sawyer back a small step. Panic flashed in Sawyer’s eyes as if he thought Ciaran was saying no.
He put his fingers against Sawyer’s chin and ran his thumb along his jaw. “Pack a bag for two days,” Ciaran murmured. “Meet me on the pier in ten minutes.”
And with a Herculean effort, he made himself walk out.
Putting any distance between them felt wrong. It made his human form feel so fucking wrong, as if he could feel himself morph and bend, trying to keep it together.
But he had something he needed to do first.
He headed toward Dylan’s place, but before he got halfway there, he saw Fray coming out of Tobin’s. Of course he saw Ciaran, and he offered him a strained smile. Ciaran hated seeing him unhappy. It didn’t sit well with him.
“Thought you’d bebusyby now,” Fray said.
“We are,” Ciaran mumbled. “I mean, we’re going to. He says he wants it.”
“But you don’t?” Fray was clearly confused. “Dude. You’ve never wanted anything more.”
“I want him to be sure. That’s what I want more than anything.”
Fray eyed him for a long drawn-out second. “Well, if the smell of sex coming from him is anything to go by, he’s sure. And the way he needs to touch you, be near you.”
“I need to make sure he knows what he’s getting himself into,” Ciaran amended. “It’s not just sex.”
Fray sighed. “Fair.”
