The second kiss is softer, more deliberate. Sean initiates again, pressing up on his toes just enough to meet me halfway. His mouth fits against mine perfectly, warm and searching, and I think I might actually melt right here next to a rack of cloud servers.
My heart pounds like a bass drum in my chest, and I kiss him back, trying not to crush him with everything coursing through my veins. He tastes like pizza and nerves and the smallest hint of sweetness—that’s all him.
He pulls back just far enough to whisper, breath shaky, “Can I… touch your tusks?”
No one’s ever asked that before. Not like that.
I swallow hard and nod. “Of course you can.”
He lifts his hand—tentative, careful—his fingertips grazing the curve of ivory where it meets my jaw. The touch is feather-light, barely there, yet it sends a bolt of heat straight down my spine. I’ve touched them a thousand times before—brushing my teeth, putting on lip balm, eating—but they’ve never feltaliveuntil being under Sean’s touch.
He notices. Of course he does. He’s my mate. His lips curl into the smallest, most devastating smile before he leans in again and brushes them against my right tusk.
This kiss is different—hungrier, deeper. I taste the edge of his sigh as he presses against me. My hands find his waist, anchoring him there, and he makes a soft sound I want burned into my memory like a permanent hard drive you can’t erase.
I think about what my dad once told me, long before I ever believed I’d have a mate of my own. He’d been polishing his tusks before a family wedding, Mom watching him with that same amused affection she always had.
“You’ll know when it’s real, son. Your mother smiled at me from across the old guild hall, and I thought—well, there she is. The one who could wreck me and still make me thank her for the privilege. If she had the slightest inconvenience, like spilling her tea, I knew. That’s what a bond feels like. It’s not fire and thunder. It’s certainty. You’ll spend the rest of your life wanting to make them happy.”
And right now, with Sean kissing me like the world outside this room doesn’t exist, I know exactly what he meant.
Sean stiffens for a moment—instinct, maybe—but then he exhales, melting into me. His fingers curl into my shirt, pulling me closer before reaching around and cupping my ass. Fuck, he’s unraveling me. He’s the one who deepens the kiss, tilting his head, lips parting just enough for his tongue to brush mine—warm, tentative, then certain. The taste of him floods my senses, and suddenly we’re sharing every breath.
Before I can process what’s happening, he’s guidingme back into the chair and climbing into my lap, straddling me like it’s the most natural thing in the world. The chair squeaks in protest under us, but I barely notice because every nerve in my body catches fire.
He laughs softly against my mouth. “Guess this isn’t ergonomic.”
“Not with you in my lap,” I murmur, hands finding his ass—thick, perfect, filling my palms like it was made for them. I give a slow squeeze and lean close enough that my breath brushes his ear. “Guess I’ll have to file a help ticket.”
He grins—quick, crooked, beautiful—and then we’re kissing again, harder, messier, like we’ve both been waiting too long for this moment. His hands slide down to the hem of my shirt, unbuttoning clumsily. I help him, tugging the fabric loose until I finally feel the warmth of his hands on my skin. Sean Rivers’s fingers are on my chest. He’s kneading, and I stare down, watching him.
“Fuck, you have abs. Like actual abs. And your nipples are…” He runs a finger along the ball at the end of one of the metal bars.
“Yeah, back in college all the guys in my fraternity were piercing something. I went with these. They’re subtle, not too obvious, and also…”
Sean gives the silver ball a little tweak, and a shock of pleasure shoots through my torso.
“Very sensitive,” I say, and he’s got me panting already.
He pauses, looking up at me like he’s trying to memorize every part of this, every second.
He nods as he speaks. “You’re… sweet.”
I can’t help smiling—considerable, confident.
Then he adds, “And so fucking hot.”
I start to take off my glasses, but he catches my wrist, fingers sizzling against my skin.
“Please,” Sean says softly. “Leave them on. They’re sexy as hell.”
And then we stop pretending we’re anything but two completely charged beings.
He’s moving against me now, slow and deliberate, rolling his hips so there’s no mistaking what he feels pressed against him. My cock throbs, trapped between us, and a sound rumbles out of me before I can stop it, a low, primal growl that makes him shiver instead of pull away.
Sean’s response is to grab my neck, drawing me closer until our mouths crash together again, the kiss rougher this time, hungrier. A quick swipe of his tongue over a tusk, then they meet again, tangling as if they can’t get enough. Every part of me is alive, tuned to him—the heat of his body, the soft sounds he makes, the way he seems to meet every touch with a matching want.
I don’t know what happens next, only that all I want is to please him—to see what other sounds I can coax from his beautiful mouth.
