Four words. Simple. Steady. There was no hesitation, despite the flush climbing up his throat.
He wants to see. He’s asking to see. He—
Riot’s hands weren’t quite steady as he unfastened his pants. The relief of pressure alone nearly made him groan, and when he freed himself, he heard Cass’s sharp intake of breath. Those teary eyes were fixed, fascinated, his curiosity overriding his fear in a way that was so fundamentallyCassit made Riot’s chest ache. “Can I touch it?”
Can he touch it? He’s asking permission to touch my cock like he’s at a fucking petting zoo. I am going to lose my mind.
“Yes.” The word came out hoarse.
Cass’s fingers made contact, and Riot’s hips jerked before he could stop them. The touch was feather-light. Exploratory. Cass traced the length of him with his fingertips gently, like mapping the shape of something unfamiliar.
“It’s warm.” Cass sounded surprised. His fingers wrapped around the shaft. “And it... moves. When I touch here—” His thumb grazed the underside, found the thick vein, and Riot’s vision went gold-white.
“Fuck!” Riot moaned.
Cass flinched, but he didn’t let go. “Is that good? The way your body just did that—is that the same as when I—?”
“Yes.” Riot was gripping the floor, literally gripping the hardwood with his free hand, his nails biting into the grain. “That’s the same.”
“So when I move like this…” Cass’s grip tightened, and Riot’s spine arched as he stroked once. It was clumsy, too tight, the wrong angle and it was still the best thing Riot had ever felt. “...you feel what I feel? When you touch me and I can’t think?”
“Yeah.” Riot’s voice was barely functional. “Something like that.”
Cass stroked again, adjusting his grip, and this time the angle was better, the pressure more intentional. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and the unconscious gesture, combined with the sight of his hand around Riot’s cock, sent the Berserker lunging against its leash.
His mouth. Put him on his knees. Push into that sweet, wet—
Riot caught the thought and crushed it, but Cass must have seen it in his face, because his hand slowed.
“What? You looked... different, for a second.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not.” Cass’s hand stilled, but didn’t release him. “You look like you did in the bathroom. When you had to stop.”
The honesty of it hit Riot like a slap.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” Riot said it through his teeth. “I just…I need…”
“What do you need?”
Everything. Your mouth, your body, your entire existence rewritten around mine.
“Something I shouldn’t ask for.”
Cass was quiet for a moment. His hand was still wrapped around Riot’s cock, a fact that was not making clear thinking any easier, and his expression had gone thoughtful in that way that usually preceded him saying something that would destroy Riot.
“Back home,” Cass said slowly, “they told me what I should want. And what I shouldn’t want. And what wanting the wrong things meant about my soul.” His thumb traced an idle circle on the underside of Riot’s shaft, and Riot’s vision sparked. “I’m very tired of people deciding things without asking me.”
Riot was beginning to wonder what Elysian Dynamics called their course on “Casually Setting Off Devastating Emotional Bombs”, because clearly Cass had aced that one.
“Tell me,” Cass insisted. “And I’ll tell you if it scares me.”
Something in Riot’s chest cracked along an old fault line. The Berserker was howling. Brennan was holding his breath. And Riot looked at this brave, simple, impossible person and told the truth.
“I want your mouth.”
Cass’s eyes dropped to where his hand still held Riot’s cock. Back up. Processing.
