“Yeah.” Riot was still breathing hard, but his voice was steady now. Morehim. “That’s—when someone cums, that’s what—shit—” He laughed weakly. “That’s cum.”
“Cum,” Cass repeated, testing the word on his tongue. It felt dirty and thrilling. “I made you... cum?”
“You made me cum so hard I saw stars.” Riot pressed a kiss to his forehead, achingly gentle after everything. “You okay?”
“I’m...” Cass searched for words. His body ached. His mind was quiet for the first time in what felt like forever. Part of him was still shaken by what had almost happened, but Riot had stopped.
“I didn’t know bodies could do that,” Cass said finally. “Any of that. The... the orgasm. The twice.” He paused. “The stopping.”
Something complicated moved across Riot’s face at that last part.
“There’s more,” he said quietly. “So much more. I’m gonna show you everything.” His arms came around Cass, pulling him close despite the mess. “If you want.”
“I want.” The words came out immediately. Then, quieter: “You’ll stay?”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Riot’s heartbeat was steady against Cass’s cheek, slowing gradually.
Cass wanted to say something else—thank you, orI trust you, or something bigger he couldn’t name. But exhaustion was pulling him under, and Riot was warm and solid around him. It felt safe.
Really, truly safe.
Then everything went soft and quiet, and Cass let himself close his eyes.
Chapter twenty-one
The Upper Limit of Human Ambition
Riot
Thekidwouldn’tletgo.
Riot had tried to extract himself from the tangle of limbs on the bathroom floor—a process that should have been straightforward but was complicated by the fact that Cass seemed to have developed the grip strength of someone who’d been told to hold on or die. He needed to clean them both up, needed to check that Cass was actually okay after everything.
Real responsible, asshole. Ten out of ten. Gensyn’s behavioral modification department couldn’t have designed a worse protector if they’d held a committee meeting about it.
But he couldn’t stop thinking about it. The way Cass’s eyes had gone wide with real terror. The pressure of his cock against that entrance, how close he’d been to just pushing. The sound of Cass yelling his name, begging him to stop. And the worst part—the part that made Riot want to put his fist through a wall—was that even now, with Cass trusting and exhausted in his arms, part of him still wanted it. The echo of that desperate need was still thrumming under his skin, demanding he finish what he’d started.
What the fuck is wrong with you?
The question was rhetorical. He had a comprehensive list, actually, organized by category and cross-referenced. It was a very thorough list.
Every time he shifted, Cass made a small, distressed sound and clung tighter, fingers digging into Riot’s shoulders like he was afraid of being set adrift. Like Riot was something solid and safe to hold onto.
Which was, Riot reflected, rather like clutching a live grenade for comfort. Technically warm. Technically there. Liable to go off without warning.
“Hey,” Riot said softly, brushing sweat-damp hair from Cass’s forehead. “Princess. I need to get us cleaned up.”
Cass’s eyes fluttered open—hazy, unfocused, still somewhere in the aftermath. “Don’t go,” he mumbled. “Please.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I just want to get you into some warm water.”
He reached over to turn on the tap, adjusting the temperature until steam started rising. The bathroom was small and cramped, but private. Safe.
Safe from everyone except you. You’re the danger here, genius.
“There,” he said when the tub filled. “Let’s get you in.”
He started to lift Cass toward the tub, but those fingers tightened on his shoulders.
