Page 90 of Glitched Fates & Stolen Mates

“Kit,” I gasped against his throat, desperation bleeding into my voice. “I—”

His phone rang.

The sharp trill shattered our hazy bubble of want, making us both freeze. Kit groaned, his head falling back against the sofa cushions.

“I’ll turn it off,” he muttered, sliding his hand out of his pocket.

But when he glanced at the screen, we both saw Seb’s name flashing across the display.

Kit’s expression shifted immediately, hazy pleasure giving way to conflict.

“Take it,” I said quickly, so that he didn’t have to decide. “You have to.”

“He’s getting back to me about the attack,” he said, thumb hovering over the accept button.

I shuffled upwards, reaching for my mug of now-cold tea with shaking hands. The dregs were bitter, but I needed something to do to calm myself down.

I remained perched on his lap, unwilling to move despite the interruption. Kit’s free hand rested on my hip, thumb tracing absent circles through my jeans while he spoke.

“That’s right… Dead, like I said… About two hours ago… Right now? Can’t it wait until…” Kit threw his head back onto the sofa cushion. “Fine. Aye. I understand. I’ll be there soon.”

The entire conversation lasted maybe thirty seconds. When Kit hung up, he looked at me with deeply sorrowful eyes, both hands finding my hips.

“Seb wants me at the hotel. Right now.”

A funny noise escaped my throat—something between a whine and a grunt of protest that I definitely hadn’t meant to make out loud.

Kit’s mouth twitched, fighting back a smile. “Are you seriously… pouting right now?”

“I most definitely am not!” I pulled my face into its best scowl.

Kit’s grin broke free, broad and delighted. “You absolutely were. That’s the most dramatic bottom lip I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m not— It’s just— We’re sort of in the middle of something!”

“Aye,” Kit agreed. “Aye, we are in the middle of something.” He reached over, snatching the cold tea from me. “And that’s far more important to me than moody, demanding vampires.”

I breathed out an “Oh,” relief flooding through me.

One hand travelled from my hip to trace the hard line of my cock through my jeans. The touch was light, teasing, just enough pressure to make me push into it with a sharp intake of breath.

“You didn’t really think I’d leave you like this, did you?”

His hands found my shoulders, guiding me down until I was lying fully on top of him, the weight of my body against his, chest to chest. I could feel his heart beating steadily beneath me, could smell that scent of leather and soap growing stronger, headier. One of his thick thighs slotted between my legs, the solid muscle pressing up against my aching cock through the layers of denim. The pressure made me gasp, my hips jerking forward involuntarily.

Kit brought his mouth to my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “With how hard you are right now, I doubt this will take long.”

I gasped. He wasn’t wrong. I couldn’t remember ever being quite this hard, quite this desperate for release.

His fingers tightened on my hip, physically guiding me forward, making me rut against his thigh in a slow, deliberate rhythm. And oh. The drag of denim against denim, the firm and steady friction building with each movement…

“That’s it,” Kit murmured, one hand stroking through my hair while the other held me tightly. His voice rumbled through his chest, vibrating against mine. “Just like that.”

I couldn’t do anything but let him control the movement, couldn’t think beyond the fire inside coiling low, tight and desperate. Sweat prickled at my hairline, at the back of my neck. My pulse hammered in my ears, in my throat, in my cock.

“Kit,” I gasped, his name cracking apart on my tongue.

“I know,” he said, his thigh pressing up harder against me. “Just relax. Let me take care of you.”