Fionn was silent for a long moment, his gaze flicking between them. Then, abruptly, he nodded. “The land will take him, the crows will feast, the beasts will dispose of the rest. The laws on this side of the door have been followed. Cian’s wolf, Failinis, protected his Grá Croí as is his right.”
“Just to be clear,” Reaper’s dark eyes met Fionn’s. “No onecan punish them for it?”
Fionn’s mouth quirked. “No. They can’t.”
The tension in Cian’s shoulders eased, just a little. “Then let us go home.” He brought Reaper to Viper’s horse and gave him a leg up. Once his mate was settled, he climbed on behind Oisín. “I am ready to rest now.”
The crannóg was warm, and the fire in the hearth burned cheerfully when Cian kicked the door shut behind them, the wooden latch clicking into place. The space was small, intimate, and all theirs.
He reached for his mate and cupped the back of his neck, his thumb brushing over the pulse point beneath Reaper’s jaw. “You’re shaking.”
Reaper swallowed. “Adrenaline crash.”
“Or shock.”
“Or that.” Reaper’s laugh was a little rough and unsteady. “Fuck, I should’ve killed him years ago.”
Cian’s fingers tightened. “You survived. That’s enough.”
Reaper pulled back, just enough to meet his eyes. “Is it?”
Cian didn’t answer with words; instead, he crashed their mouths together, his free hand tangling in Reaper’s hair, yanking him close. Reaper gasped against his lips, but then he was kissing him back, just as desperate and hungry. Teeth clashed, tongues tangled, and Cian growled, the sound vibrating through them both.
Reaper’s hands were everywhere. Yanking at his tunic, scraping down his chest, his nails digging in like he was trying to crawl inside him. Cian let him, stripping the fabric over his head, breaking the kiss only long enough to toss it aside before his mouth was back on his mate’s again to swallow his groan.
In a tangle of limbs, need, and desire, they stumbled toward the bed. Cian’s knees hit the edge of the mattress, and he went down, dragging Reaper with him. The furs were soft beneath them, the heat of the fire licking at their skin, but it wasn’t enough. He neededmore. He needed all of this man…hisman.
Reaper rolled them, pinning Cian beneath him, his thighs straddling his hips, his hands planted on either side of his head. His dark eyes were wild, his lips swollen from kissing, and his chest heaving. “You ate him.” He narrowed his eyes at him, “And I’ve been kissing you after you fucking ate him.”
Cian smirked, his hands sliding up his thighs, gripping him hard. “I told you. I spat him out.”
Reaper laughed, and he reached for a cup next to the bed. “Wash that filth out of your mouth, Cian. Because I don’t want to taste him on you.”
Cian did as he was told, and once he was done, Reaper pounced. His mouth claimed his again, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood. Cian loved it. He loved the way Reaper was all claws and teeth, all fire and fury, all his.
His hands slid up, tearing at Reaper’s clothes, minding his mate’s wounded arm as he yanked his shirt over his head, his fingers tracing the lines of the swirling blue mating mark on his arm. Reaper shivered under his touch, his breath hitching as Cian’s fingers trailed lower, mapping the scars on his ribs, his stomach, and all the old wounds that had made him flinch before.
Reaper arched into the touch, his hips rolling down against his, the friction making them both groan. “Fuck,” He dropped his forehead to his shoulder. “I can’t?—”
“You can.” His voice was rough, his hands sliding down to grip Reaper’s ass, squeezing hard. “You will.”
Reaper reached between them, fumbling with the fastenings of his leathers, his fingers brushing against the hard length of him. Cian hissed, his hips jerking up, and Reaper grinned before he stripped the fabric away, his mouth following the path his hands had taken.
Cian’s head fell back, a groan tearing from his throat as Reaper’s lips wrapped around him, hot and wet and oh so perfect. His fingers tangled in his mate’s hair, holding him there, guiding him as his thighs trembled with the effort not to buck up into that sinful mouth.
Reaper took him deep, his throat working around the head of his cock, and Cian snarled, his hips lifting off the bed.“Fuck—Mate?—”
Reaper pulled off with a wetpop, his lips slick, his eyes dark with hunger. “You like that?”
Cian growled, flipping them in one smooth motion, pinning Reaper beneath him. “I like this better.”
Reaper’s laugh was cut off as his mouth crashed down on his, their teeth clashing, their tongues battling. He ground his hips down, the hard length of him pressing against Reaper’s, the friction maddening, not enough.
Reaper’s hands were on his ass, his nails digging in, urging him on. “More,” he gasped against Cian’s lips. “Need more.”
Cian didn’t need to be told twice. He reached between them, his fingers wrapping around them both, stroking in rough, desperate pulls. Reaper groaned, his head falling back, his throat exposed, and Cian bit him, his teeth sinking into the tender flesh where his neck met his shoulder.
Reaper whimpered, his hips jerking up, his cock twitching in Cian’s grip. “Fuck—yes?—”
