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Syrus raised his brows again, and Luke twisted his torso to get at his bedside table. When he held the bottle in his hand, Syrus nodded approvingly.
“Show me.”
Luke squeezed some out, then reached down with slick, shaky fingers to circle his hole, trying to ignore Syrus’s hand just next to his. “You can use your fingers to start. Or—or I can. Just…lots of lube. On me and on you. It’s been a long time.”
Syrus hummed thoughtfully, his eyes locked on Luke’s movements. “I’ll be very gentle.”
He didn’t let Luke continue for long before he took the lube out of Luke’s hands, batting Luke’s fingers away from his hole. Luke took a deep breath and let his head fall back and his hands fall to his sides. If Syrus wanted to touch him more, Luke wasn’t going to stop him.
And Syrus was gentle. Almost excessively so. He circled Luke’s rim over and over, dipping his fingertip in, pressing and kneading but never going any farther. He made little noises while he did it, hums and gasps, like just doing even this much delighted him. Luke might have laughed if every bit of his focus hadn’t been zeroed in on the tingling warmth of Syrus’s touch.
Not that Syrus kept it to his fingers. He seemed to revel in rubbing his face against the hair on Luke’s inner thighs, or nuzzling into the thatch at Luke’s groin. Sometimes he nuzzled at Luke’s erection as well, breathing him in. He didn’t put his mouth to it, didn’t lick or suck, and still it was more arousing than it had any right to be.
Did he like the way Luke smelled? He seemed to. He seemed to like everything about Luke, which was so disconcerting a thought Luke had to shy away from it.
When the lube was dripping obscenely between Luke’s thighs, and his cock was so full it ached, Luke hit his limit. “Syrus…,” he pleaded.
Syrus lifted his head from where he’d been ghosting his nose over Luke’s sac again. “Yes, dearest?”
“Give me a finger. Now.”
Syrus frowned at him. “Are you certain you’re ready?”
“Yes.”
Syrus grinned at the frustration in Luke’s voice. He kept his head lifted, his eyes on Luke, as he slid one of those smooth-tipped fingers inside. His wide mouth parted in a gasp, like the feel of Luke’s channel was some sort of revelation.
Maybe it was, but it wasn’t enough. “Another,” Luke demanded.
“Already?”
“Yes. Fuck, yes.” Luke had been teased and toyed with enough. He’d had his fill of soft, gentle touches. He wanted the stretch. The burn. Wanted Syrus inside him already.
What was the point of Syrus’s incomprehensible obsession if Luke couldn’t even get fucked when he needed it?
But for once, Syrus didn’t tease, immediately giving Luke a second finger alongside the first. Luke groaned, planting a foot on the mattress to help him buck into the pressure.
“You like it,” Syrus murmured.
“Yes.”
“I like it too. I like it very much.” Syrus’s fingers withdrew, only to press back inside in a twisting glide. Luke groaned again, letting his head fall back once more.
“Luke?”
“Yes?”
“Will my cock really fit in here?”
Finally. Luke clenched around the fingers inside him. “Yes,” he answered breathlessly. “It will. Let me—let me show you.”
15
SYRUS
Syrus had always thought he was a ravenous sort of beast, but he’d never in his long life felt hunger such as this before.
It was a fierce heat in his belly, a tingling at the back of his teeth, a frisson running through his very bones.
