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The longer Luke stared brainlessly, his arms still wrapped around Syrus’s neck, the more Syrus’s expression softened. He ran his nose along Luke’s cheek and nuzzled at his ear, sending a shiver along Luke’s spine.

“I find your kisses very pleasing,” Syrus murmured.

God, he had a nice fucking voice for sweet talk. Even if his words were obvious enough, based on the rigid length pressing into Luke’s stomach. He wanted to look down and see for himself. He wanted to touch it.

But no. That would be too much, wouldn’t it? The kiss had just…happened. Like two magnets that couldn’t help coming together because one of them was large and beautiful and naked and standing too close. But jerking off the scary, flirty merman rutting against him right now wouldn’t be something that just happened. That would be a choice. A crazy, crazy choice.

Maybe…maybe they could just keep kissing.

Luke tilted his face upward, leaning more of his weight into Syrus’s large, naked body. Syrus’s eyes narrowed again, this time in unmistakable pleasure. He hummed, the sound adding to the heat in Luke’s belly.

Yes. Definitely more kissing.

But then Syrus suddenly wobbled backward, and Luke barely had time to register Syrus’s eyes widening in alarm before they were both crashing to the floor, Luke sprawled helplessly on top of Syrus’s solid form.

Luke choked, trying to get back some of the air that had been knocked out of his lungs.

What the fuck had just happened?

He looked down at Syrus. He was met with pointed ears and blue-tinged lips. He twisted around to look at Syrus’s lower half, only to find a shimmering blue fish tail.

No wonder they’d fallen. Syrus had transformed again, and those fins weren’t made for walking, whether they were scarred and sore or not.

Luke raised his eyebrows at the ridiculous merman. “You don’t get any sort of warning?”

“I knew the transformation was coming,” Syrus told him, unabashed. “That’s why I approached you. To ask for more blood.”

Luke frowned at him. “But you didn’t say anything about blood.”

“I was distracted.”

And apparently completely unapologetic. A fact that was made even more blatant when Syrus surged up on his forearms, tilting his head as if to steal another kiss.

Luke sat up in alarm, only vaguely aware he was now straddling Syrus’s fish tail. “You can’t kiss me like this!”

“Why not?” Syrus asked with a pout. “Am I not very handsome like this?”

Of course he was. He knew he was. Although, where his massive erection had gone during the transformation was another question.

Luke shook his head. Get your mind out of the fucking gutter. “Your teeth,” he managed to say. “You’ll bite my tongue off.”

Syrus had the gall to look affronted. “I would never.” His brows shifted into a thoughtful look. They were paler in this form, his eyebrows—Luke hadn’t noticed before. “Although…perhaps a small slice.” Syrus bared his teeth in what could have been either a smile or a threat. “A little kiss, a little blood. Very efficient.” At whatever face Luke made in response, Syrus frowned. “No?”

“No.”

“There is other essence I might take.” Syrus’s expression turned sly. At this rate, Luke was going to get whiplash from all the emotional turnaround.

“Like what?” Luke asked warily.

“Tears, for one.”

Luke gaped at him. “You want me to cry into your mouth?”

Syrus didn’t deign to answer that one. “Spend, for another,” he mused.

“Spend,” Luke repeated. It took him a minute to translate the word into something a little more modern, and when he did, his cheeks went hot.

Syrus smirked at him. “You understand.”