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“You think?!”
Milo crossed his hands on the book wall and straightened his shoulders. “Please, continue.”
Rowan started mumbling to himself adorably about Milo’s insanity and how there was something wrong with him as he began flipping through the first book, smoke leaking out of his nose. Milo watched him for a while, feeling more fond than he should have given that he was the topic of the rant.
“If it helps, I did research a bunch of techniques. But everything comes back to this emotional connection, and I try to get there on my own but it’s like there’s this block in my head or I get distracted by something shiny or a noise or—”
“Do you find me attractive?” Rowan asked suddenly.
Milo snapped his mouth closed. “Huh?”
Rowan appeared horrified that words had come out of his mouth at all. He looked back down at the book. “Nothing.”
His brain caught up, and Milo realized Rowan had been holding on to that question this whole time. That was what he hadn’t allowed himself to ask earlier.
“No take backs,” Milo said.
“I didn’t say anything to take back,” Rowan flat-out lied.
“Yes, you did. You asked if I thought you were attractive.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“So you won’t want my answer, which is that you’re probably the single most attractive dragon I’ve ever had the pleasure of biting, or that I think your chest should be the seventh wonder of the world and have a national holiday and statues in its honor,” Milo said, watching every micro expression of happiness flitter across Rowan’s face. “Because, you know, you never asked that.”
Rowan shyly lowered his gaze, fiddling with the corners of his book. “You really think that?”
Milo gracefully climbed over the book stack to his prize. Which meant he crashed right through and got a hardback corner in the thigh for good measure.
Rowan still caught him under the arms and stopped him from sliding off the sofa in the ensuing information avalanche. Milo wrapped his own arms around Rowan’s neck and like an awkward frog, moved one leg up and then the other to straddle Rowan’s book-covered lap. “I really think that. Perhaps more graphically.”
Rowan snorted, but he was a pleased pink instead of an embarrassed fire-red. “I appreciate your eloquence for my sake.”
“So, about that plan I had…”
Rowan stole his mouth in a kiss and Milo groaned in victory. “I’m definitely more of a practical learner.”
19
Rowan
The sounds Milo was making under his touch were the most addictive Rowan had ever heard in his life. Choked-off, desperate little moans and mewls that made him feel like the most powerful person to walk the planet.
Because he was the one drawing them out. His touch made Milo writhe and his kiss made Milo’s heart thunder against his chest.
He’d slept with people before, but nothing had ever felt like Milo.
Pliant and defiant at the same time.
He was letting Rowan touch him, kiss him, wreck him, but he was also pushing back, shoving himself into Rowan’s lap, locking him in with arms around his neck as if to show him who was really in control.
He bared his neck in submission, but he also gripped Rowan’s hair and pushed his head into the crook of it with ease. He opened his mouth to allow Rowan’s tongue in, but he bit him and sucked on him until Rowan was sure he’d drain him of all life force if left unchecked.
Milo was a contradiction in sex like he was in everything else, and Rowan realized there was something magical about it. Something he had been craving without ever knowing it before. And something he was quickly growing addicted to as they fell into it again.
“Milo,” he groaned when Milo shifted in his lap, brushing their hard cocks together and making them both shudder with how intense it all felt.
“Hm?” Milo asked, but there was nothing in Rowan’s brain except Milo’s hands wandering beneath his clothes, his teeth catching skin, and his thin body caged in Rowan’s arms. He called out to him because that was the only thing he could say.
