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Ryneth choked on his breath. His entire body locked, held at the mercy of the man sitting too close, clearly enjoying himself. “I’m not pretty,” he gritted out.

Daven licked his lips. “No? It’s true if I say you are. Just like you’re enjoying this, aren’t you? My air cupping your balls. Teasing your cock.”

“You f-fucking—” But Ryneth’s eyes rolled back in his head when an invisible fist started stroking his cock. “Good Light… No. You sick fuck. I—I’m not…”

Static burst from his hand, sudden and wild, not summoned so much as unleashed. It came the way it always did, late and violent, like the only thing that had ever come to his aid when no one else did.

He shot a bolt that began to pulse. The door lock chirped, snapping shut as the security system flared.

Daven watched the electric light invade the room and grinned. “Aw, cute. Try again. You know you can’t beat me, so you’re going for the help of the medical team?” He let go of Ryneth’s nape and face, lowering his head back to the pillow with infuriating care, like he was handling something he already considered his.

Ryneth dreaded the moment. He dreaded the realization that Daven was right. He hadn’t attacked the man, because he was too strong. And because his own body was betraying him.

Heat kept building in him in a way that felt wrong, too fast, too much, and if Daven kept touching him like this, he was going to lose control.

Ryneth flushed, a deep red creeping up his neck. “Stop. Stop now.”

“Make me.” Daven let the air move lower, circling Ryneth’s waist, pressing him into the bedding. “You’re defenseless. All that static, and nowhere for it to go. Does that feel good, aethera?”

He leaned closer, voice turning quiet. “I promise you, once we’re back in my penthouse, I’m going to have you like this again.”

“You asshole,” Ryneth wanted to snarl, but the only sound that left his mouth was a filthy moan.

“Look at that,” Daven whispered. “Looking so pretty for me.” His gaze dropped. “Do you want to come, Ryneth? Do you need the release?”

“No,” Ryneth bit out.

Daven smirked. “I think you do.” He used a thread of air to hold Ryneth’s head against the pillow. His air turned into an invisible fist, tightening around Ryneth’s cock. Then he started stroking. “You’ve been through hell, aethera. And I saved you from it.”

Ryneth squeezed his eyes shut. A half-sob, half-growl escaped his mouth. Every sensation tripled. “I hate you.”

“Your mouth says that,” Daven murmured, “but your body’s been shaking for me since I walked in.”

He brushed his hand through Ryneth’s hair and lowered his lips to his ear. “But your body already knows who it belongs to.”

The words hit like a verdict.

“Feel how it trembles for me? How it gets hard for me?”

“No.” Ryneth tried for his static, wanted to ignore how his head had lolled to the side and was now resting against Daven’s thigh.

Daven’s air was relentless, stroking his cock while teasing his rim and balls.

“Don’t,” Ryneth pleaded, but he could feel the pressure building in his exhausted body, could feel how his toes curled and his lips parted. He moaned again. Good Light, he was so desperate that he let Daven trace the shape of his lips, humming in smug approval when Ryneth could do nothing else but let him have his way.

“So desperate for a little friction,” Daven whispered, his air tightening around Ryneth’s cock in a hot, merciless grip.

Ryneth’s hips bucked, seeking the release, but Daven’s air suddenly went still, holding him right at the edge of the cliff.

“Not yet, aethera. You don’t come until I say you can.” Daven leaned down, his lips brushing Ryneth’s sweat-slicked temple. “I want you to sit in it. I want you to feel every spark of that static screaming for me to let you go.”

“Please,” Ryneth wheezed, his fingers clawing at the sheets. “D-Daven, please.”

“Begging already? We haven’t even started.” Daven’s thumb dragged across Ryneth’s lower lip, pulling it down. Then he leaned in until their mouths almost touched, close enough that Ryneth could feel the heat of his breath. For one awful second, Ryneth thought he was going to kiss him.

Instead, Daven only brushed his mouth against the corner of Ryneth’s lips, taking his time. “You’re going to be a mess for me by the time we get to my penthouse. I’ll have you dripping for me before I even touch you with my hands.” He pulsed the air once, a sharp, rhythmic squeeze that wrung a choked cry from Ryneth’s throat, before dropping the pressure just enough to leave him hanging, aching.

The IV pump blared. Somewhere outside the room, boots hit the tile, fast.