Alright.
Here goes nothing.
My pants come off next...getting stuck on my sneakers because I forgot to take them off. I have to bend to unlace them, yank them off, send them to join my hoodie, and when I stand back up?—
Oh my god.
Oh my god.
Kaelion is…he’s undressing, too. He’s got his shirt mostly unbuttoned, and he shrugs it off his shoulders, then folds itneatly and places it on top of a dresser drawer. His tendrils flick as he continues to undress, as he sheds his pants, and I’m…oh my god. Oh my god, he’scoveredin turquoise muscles that shimmer brighter green in certain places, that fade to blue in others…and there’s more biotech, too. The mottled spot on his forearm, plus a silver plate over his heart, and golden circuitry lacing up his neck.
He narrows his eyes at me, wearing nothing but a pair of black briefs now, his cock jutting out beneath it.
“I thought I told you to undress,” he murmurs.
“I am,” I say, too fast, already scrambling to tug the rest of my clothes off. Bra gone. Underwear shoved down my legs. I kick them aside and straighten, naked and buzzing and acutely aware of the fact that I am standing in his bedroom with nothing on but need.
I swallow. “I just—got distracted.”
His gaze drags over me like a slow scan, not missing a single inch. Not my breasts, not the damp heat between my thighs, not the way I’m already trembling like my body knows exactly what’s coming and is bracing for impact.
“On the bed,” he says.
I climb back onto the mattress and lie down like he told me to, heart racing, every nerve ending humming. I spread my legs without being asked, because at this point pretending I have dignity feels pointless.
He steps closer.
The bed dips slightly as he braces one knee on the edge, then the other, looming over me without touching. I can feel his heat. Smell him—clean and sharp and electric, like metal and ozone.
“Hands,” he says.
I hesitate.
“On the mattress,” he clarifies. “Above your head.”
I obey immediately, palms flattening into the sheets, fingers curling. My whole body feels exposed, open…like I’ve been unwrapped and set out just for him.
“Good,” he murmurs.
Then he reaches out and just…brushes his fingers against my knee.
Just a single point of contact, light enough that I almost convince myself I imagined it—except my hips jerk up in response and a sound slips out of me before I can stop it.
I clap a hand over my mouth, eyes wide.
He stills instantly.
I freeze, heart pounding.
“That,” he says quietly, “was a test.”
Right. Because we’re doing science.
And what does he do? He stands up.
I rise to protest, wanting him here,now…but he’s leaning over to grab something off the floor. I watch as he comes back with my goddamn underwear in his hand, as he crawls back between my legs and?—
“Open,” he orders.
