“Don’t let go,” Cass mumbled against his throat.
“I won’t.”
“Promise?”
The word was so small. So trusting. Riot thought about all the people who may have made Cass promises and broken them—Elysian with their manufactured transcendence, Brother Matthias with his “guidance,” everyone who’d ever told thisgentle, stubborn soul that his instincts were wrong and his body was shameful and he was a deficiency that needed correcting.
“I promise,” Riot said, and meant it with every broken piece of himself.
Chapter twenty
Five Second Head Start
Cass
Thesilenceintheroom felt different now that they were alone, charged in a way that made Cass’s skin prickle with electricity. He was still curled against Riot’s chest, his face pressed into the curve of his throat, breathing in that strawberries-and-cream scent that made everything hurt less, even the negative energy release points.
Cass lifted his head to look at Riot, taking in those green eyes with their glowing gold flecks and the freckles scattered across his nose and cheekbones. “You smell really good,” he said.
Riot smiled. “Yeah? Well, you’re not exactly unpleasant yourself, princess.”
The endearment made warmth bloom in Cass’s chest, and before he could second-guess himself, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to the corner of Riot’s mouth. It wasn’t quite a kiss, but it was close, and it made that swooping feeling in his belly intensify.
“I like it when you call me that,” he whispered against Riot’s skin, feeling bold and reckless. Riot’s hand came up to tangle in his hair, the other settling at the small of his back, and Cass melted into the touch.
“Cass,” Riot said, his voice rougher than before. “You need to think about what you’re doing.”
“I am,” he said, tucking his face back against Riot’s neck. His cheeks heated as he said it, but he didn’t want to feel bad about whatever this was anymore. Even if it still made him blush. Even if Brother Matthias would call it spiritually deficient.
“I think I want more of this,” he admitted, then immediately felt the need to add, “I’m sorry if that’s inappropriate. I know I’m probably not supposed to want—I’m sorry.”
Riot’s fingers tightened in his hair. “I just don’t want you to do something you’ll regret when this is over.”
“What if I won’t regret it? What if this is exactly what I want?” He shifted in Riot’s lap, trying to get closer, and the movement created friction between them. The sensation hit Cass like a spark and he gasped, his hips stuttering forward without his permission, chasing that feeling. “I didn’t mean to—I’m sorry.”
“You’re fine.” Riot’s voice was strained. “Just... try to stay still.”
Cass tried, but another cramp rolled through his abdomen, making him curl tighter against Riot’s chest, and the movement ground them together again. That spark returned, brighter this time, and Cass felt his whole body flush with warmth that wasn’t quite the fever-heat of before. This was different. Lower. “I’m sorry,” he said again, feeling his face burn. “I can’t—my body keeps—”
He felt a sudden gush of slick and clung tighter to Riot, like if he could hide it from both of their lines of sight, he could pretend it wasn’t happening.
“I’m sorry,” Cass gasped.
“Stop apologizing.” Riot’s voice was strained. “We should slow down—”
But Cass was hard now, harder than he’d ever been, barely contained in his robes. “I don’t want to slow down,” he whimpered, his hips still moving in small, desperate circles. “It feels—when I move, it feels… I don’t want the ache to come back—I’m sorry—”
A hand shot up to grab his face, fingers pressing hard into his cheeks. “You need to stop,” Riot growled. “Right now. Before I lose control.”
Cass whined, caught between the fear that voice inspired and the way his body was still demanding attention. “It feels really good,” he whispered. “But if you’re uncomfortable or... or grossed out by the slick, I’ll stop. I’m sorry—”
Riot’s fingers tightened in his hair and yanked his head back hard enough to make him gasp. His scalp stung, but somehow that sting traveled straight down his spine to pool with everything else building between his legs.
“I need you to stop apologizing,” Riot snarled, his face inches from Cass’s, “and I need you to stop talking bad about yourself, because I am two seconds away from doing something that will hurt you, and I’m barely holding on.”
Cass stared at him with wide eyes, his heart hammering so hard he could feel it in his throat. He should be scared. Part of him was. But a larger part was focused on the way that grip in his hair was making his whole body light up, the way Riot’s intensity was making the hollow ache transform into an urgent hunger.
“Are you trying to make me run away?” he whispered.
