When Cass gasped in surprise, Riot’s tongue pushed into his mouth.
Oh.
The thought came dim and distant through the alcohol haze and the fever burning under his skin.Oh. This is—
Nothing in his education had prepared him for the sensation of someone else’s tongue sliding against his own, for the taste of alcohol and something uniquelyRiotthat made him want to chase it deeper. His hands came up without his permission, clutching at Riot’s shoulders because his whole body had decided to melt like butter in the sun.
The hollow ache in his belly was still there, but now it had a focus. Like it had been waiting for exactly this.
Riot made a low growl against his mouth, and the hand in Cass’s hair tightened. The sharp tug sent a jolt down Cass’s spine—pain that somehow became pleasure before it reached his brain—and he gasped again. Riot swallowed the sound, kissing him deeper.
This feels good.
The realization was startling. Not just good—right in a way nothing had ever felt right before, even better than when Riot pulled his hair. It was as if his body had been waiting his whole life for exactly this, and now that it was happening, every nerve ending was lighting up with recognition.
But even as his body melted into the contact, even as that aching emptiness finally found a focus, Cass became aware of warmth between his legs. Wetness soaking through his underwear, spreading, and increasing and dripping.
He jerked back from the kiss with a broken sound, one hand flying to touch his swollen lips while the other pressed against the spreading dampness.
“What—” His voice came out high and panicked. “Something’s wrong. Something’s really wrong with me.”
He looked down, expecting blood from the wounds. Expecting some new horror his body had decided to produce. But thewetness didn’t look red. It was clear, soaking through the thin fabric until it clung obscenely, and there wasso muchof it.
“I’m—I don’t know what’s happening.” Fresh tears spilled over, panic rising in his chest.
Riot’s expression had shifted. The gold in his eyes seemed brighter now, and he made a low sound in his chest. The air in the room felt different. Heavier. Charged with something that made Cass shiver.
“Nothing’s wrong,” Riot’s groaned. “Your body is doing exactly what it’s supposed to do.”
“But I’m—there’s—” Cass looked down at the wetness again. “This isn’t normal.”
“It’s normal.” Riot’s hands were clenched into fists at his sides, his knuckles white, and he was breathing hard like he’d been running. “What you’re feeling is completely normal for an Omega.”
“But Brother Matthias never said—”
“Fuck Brother Matthias.” The words were snarled with such sudden violence that Cass flinched backward, fresh fear cutting through everything else.
“I need to think,” Cass gasped, scrambling off the chair. His legs felt shaky and weak, and his underwear was clinging to him in ways that made his face burn even hotter. “I need to figure out what’s happening to me—”
He tried to move past Riot toward the bathroom, toward anywhere he could be alone. But a large hand shot out and caught his wrist.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“I just need a minute,” Cass whispered, staring up at Riot with wide eyes. The height difference had never felt so pronounced. “To figure out—”
“No.” The single word was a command. Riot’s grip on his wrist didn’t tighten, but he tugged, pulling Cass a step closeruntil their bodies were almost touching. “You need to stay here. Where I can see you.”
“Why?” Cass squeaked.
Riot didn’t answer immediately. His gold eyes tracked over Cass’s face, down his body—lingering on the wet spot spreading across his underwear—back up again with an intensity that made Cass feel like he was being devoured.
“Because I want to kiss you again,” Riot finally said. “And I need you to tell me if that’s okay.”
Cass’s heart was hammering so hard he could feel it in his throat, in his temples, in the wounds still throbbing on his thighs. His body was still doing things—the wetness between his legs getting worse, the heat spreading through his belly, the way his skin seemed to ache for contact. He didn’t understand any of it and didn’t know if it was good or bad or dangerous.
But when he thought about the kiss...when he remembered how it had felt to have Riot’s mouth on his, Riot’s hand in his hair...
“Yes,” he whispered. “Please.”
