Daryl stopped, Jason buried deep inside him, and twined his fingers with Jason’s. “I know.” He smiled, the barest curve of his lips, but a wave of warmth, of trust, filled Jason up inside until he was almost bursting with it.
He kissed Daryl again, gripping his cock this time, and pumping in earnest, wanting to feel him lose control. “Now let go.”
Gripping the headboard, Daryl growled out as Jason lifted his hips off the bed, thrusting up as Daryl sank down.
Daryl’s thighs quivered, a cry tearing out of him as he sank down one last time, tightening around Jason as he spilled over his stomach. Not missing a beat, he dipped his head, sinking his fangs into the side of Jason’s neck—right over his bite mark.
Pain, sharp and delicious, pushed Jason over the edge. He clung to Daryl, hands back on his hips, claw tips piercing the skin as his orgasm rushed through him.
Neither of them moved, their harsh breaths loud in the quiet of their room.
“Fuck,” Jason muttered, tracing over the already healing marks on Daryl’s hips. It took him a moment to realise Daryl’s fingers were on his stomach. He glanced down to see him rubbing his come into Jason’s skin. Jason huffed out a laugh. “Really?”
Possessiveness coloured their bond as Daryl shrugged, a smirk curving his lips. “I know you don’t mind.”
Jason couldn’t do anything but smile back and put his arms behind his head to let Daryl get on with it. Because no, he didn’t mind. He loved every fucking thing about it.
Silenced settled between them for a few blissful moments, and then Daryl sat back with a resigned sigh. “I guess we should shower.”
“Yeah.” Jason felt the euphoria of their new bond fade slightly as reality seeped back in. He reached over and grabbed his phone, surprised to see they still had twelve minutes before they were due to meet Cam.
It had seemed a lot longer than that.
“I wonder what Tom said to the council and what they’ve decided to do with him?”
“I hope they kill the bastard.” The growl in Daryl’s voice took Jason by surprise.
He probably should’ve expected it, but the last couple of hours had lulled him into thinking Daryl was a big softie.
“I know what he did was bad, but—”
“Bad?” Daryl’s hands curled into fists on top of the quilt, and a burst of white-hot rage flooded their connection. Not directed at Jason, though. Daryl closed his eyes for a second, jaw clenched.
After a moment, he breathed out slowly. “Sorry,” he said quietly. “It’s just . . . He cut the rope on that obstacle course knowing full well that it would injure whoever came after. People could’ve died.”
Jason flinched.
You almost did.
Sensing his sudden distress through their bond, Daryl’s expression softened, his hand finding Jason’s again.
“I know,” Jason whispered. “And I’m not excusing his actions. I want him punished as much as you. He deserves it. But death?” In the heat of his fight with Tom, he’d wanted to kill him. But now it didn’t feel right to wish for his death.
Daryl climbed off him, rolled onto his back, and pulled Jason into his side. He kissed him, the touch gentle despite the rigid set to his body. “He doesn’t deserve your compassion,” he muttered.
Jason shrugged. “I can’t help it.”
“I know.”
Their connection pulsed with a warmth that had Jason smiling despite the gravity of their conversation.
With a sigh, Daryl pushed himself up and swung his legs out of bed. “Come on.” He stood in all his naked glory, and Jason took a moment to watch him saunter across the room. “Shit.” He let out a huff of laughter and glanced back over at Jason. “I might need to borrow some clothes.”
SHOWERED AND dressed, they made their way over to Cam’s flat, Daryl fidgeting as they climbed the stairs.
“Pretty sure I have T-shirts looser than that one.”
Daryl ignored him but carried on rolling his shoulders, as though the material pulled too tight.
