“Good. Because I’m into it.” Ryan’s hands moved down Grayson’s back, fingers tracing the muscles there. “You’re very built. I noticed that before, but now I’m really noticing it. This is a lot of muscle. Do you live at the gym, or is this a genetics thing?”
“Genetics.” Grayson moved lower, kissing along Ryan’s collarbone. The T-shirt was in the way. He grabbed the hem and pulled it up. Ryan lifted his arms to help, and then the shirt was gone, tossed somewhere into the darkness.
Grayson looked down at him. Ryan’s skin was pale, scattered with a few freckles across his shoulders. His ribs moved with each breath, the muscles of his stomach taut. Grayson traced his fingers down Ryan’s sternum, watching goosebumps rise in the wake of his touch.
“Still good?” Grayson asked.
“Yeah.” Ryan’s hands came up to frame Grayson’s face. “Really good. Excellent, even. Top-tier good.”
Grayson kissed him again, swallowing the nervous rambling. Ryan melted into it, his body going pliant. Grayson mapped the planes of Ryan’s torso with his hands, learning the dips and curves. Ryan’s skin was hot under his palms, his pulse jumping where Grayson’s fingers pressed against his throat.
“You’re really good at this,” Ryan said against his mouth. “Like concerningly good. Should I be worried about how much practice you've had?”
“No.” Grayson moved lower, kissing down Ryan’s neck. The taste of his skin made the lion rumble with satisfaction. Salt and something sweet, uniquely Ryan. Grayson wanted to memorize it, catalog every flavor.
Ryan’s hands tangled in Grayson’s hair again. His hips rolled up, seeking friction. Grayson could feel Ryan’s erection through the sweatpants, could smell his arousal mixing with the lingering fear. The combination made something possessive coil in his gut.
“Tell me what you want,” Grayson said against Ryan’s collarbone.
“I don't know.” Ryan’s laugh came out breathless. “Everything? That’s probably too ambitious. My brain is not functioning at full capacity right now.”
Grayson kissed lower, following the line of muscle down Ryan’s stomach. Ryan’s breathing picked up, his fingers tightening in Grayson’s hair. When Grayson’s mouth reached the waistband of his sweatpants, Ryan made a sound that went straight to Grayson’s dick.
“Oh,” Ryan said. “Oh, that’s what you want to do. Okay. Yes. That’s a good plan.”
Grayson hooked his fingers in the waistband and pulled. Ryan lifted his hips to help, and then the sweatpants were gone. Ryan wasn't wearing anything underneath. His cock lay hard against his stomach, flushed and leaking at the tip.
“I should probably be embarrassed about how into this I am,” Ryan said. His voice had gone high and thready. “Given that we’re doing this because I was too scared to sleep alone. That’s probably not the sexiest origin story.”
“Stop thinking.” Grayson wrapped his hand around Ryan’s cock. The heat of it burned against his palm. Ryan’s whole body jerked, a gasp tearing from his throat.
“Not thinking,” Ryan managed. “Thinking has left the building.”
Grayson stroked slowly, watching Ryan’s face. His eyes had fallen closed, his mouth open. The tendons in his neck stood out. Beautiful. His mate was beautiful like this, coming apart under Grayson’s hands.
“Please,” Ryan said. “Please, I need—”
Grayson lowered his head and took Ryan into his mouth. The taste of him flooded Grayson’s senses, salt and musk and something that made the lion purr. Ryan’s hips bucked up involuntarily, pushing deeper. Grayson held him down with one hand splayed across his stomach, controlling the movement.
“Oh god.” Ryan’s hands scrabbled at the sheets. “Oh god, that’s… Your mouth is—”
Grayson worked him deeper, hollowing his mouth. Ryan’s cock was hard and hot against his tongue. Grayson could feel the pulse of blood through it, could hear Ryan’s heartbeat racing. His mate was falling apart, and Grayson was the one doing it to him.
“I’m not going to last,” Ryan warned. His voice cracked on the words. “I’m really not going to last. You’re too good at this and I’m too worked up and—”
Grayson pulled off long enough to speak. “Then don't.”
He took Ryan back in, deeper this time. His hand wrapped around the base, stroking what his mouth couldn’t reach. Ryan’s thighs trembled on either side of Grayson’s shoulders. The sounds he was making went straight to Grayson’s cock, made him grind against the mattress seeking friction.
“Grayson,” Ryan gasped. “I’m going to—I can’t—”
Grayson hummed around him. The vibration made Ryan cry out, his back arching off the bed. Grayson felt the tension coil through his mate's body and then felt the moment it snapped. Ryan came with a broken sound, spilling into Grayson’s mouth. Grayson swallowed it down, working him through it until Ryan was pushing at his shoulders with shaking hands.
“Too much,” Ryan panted. “Can’t… Too much.”
Grayson released him and moved back up the bed. Ryan looked destroyed, his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, his eyes glazed. Grayson kissed him, letting Ryan taste himself. Ryan made a sound into his mouth, something between a moan and a whimper.
“That was…” Ryan started then stopped. His hands came up to frame Grayson’s face. “I don't have words. My vocabulary has been reduced to incoherent noises and possibly some keysmashing.”
