Page 46 of His Eternal Temptation

“Yes, it’s exactly what I want. You won’t fuck it up.”

“No, I won’t. I promise.” Lane climbed off Rowan and ran a hand through his hair, collecting himself. “Get into position.”

Rowan rose and went to the desk, quickly shoving everything to one side. He bent forward, braced on his forearms, and found Lane’s gaze.

He stood, arms crossed and bulging in his snug T-shirt, jeans hugging his thick thighs. “You really do like following orders, don’t you?”

“Yes, Lane.”

“You like knowing exactly what you need to do. Having someone else in charge. But only while we play.”

Rowan nodded, appreciating Lane’s blunt confirmation more than he could say. “No command is too small. You can tell me what to do every step of the way if you want.”

“What if I ask you to do something you don’t like?”

“I’ll tell you. Red for stop, yellow if I need a moment.”

“Good.” Lane was still on the opposite side of the desk, leaving Rowan adrift and making his need grow. Perhaps that was the point. “We can have a more in-depth discussion later, but tell me your hard limits.”

Rowan’s fingers flexed against the wood. “No humiliation, no degradation or pain. I’m not adventurous compared to most. My desires aren’t particularly elaborate.”

Lane features hardened. “It’s not a competition. We like what we like, and I’m only interested in what makes you feel good.”

Rowan licked his lips. “Then tell me how to please you. Let me do a good job for you.”

“And take care of you?” Lane’s face softened, his smile sinful. “Praise you?”

“Yes…” Rowan’s face was hot. He wanted to look away and never lose sight of Lane all at once. “Yes, please, Lane.”

He took a step closer, and Rowan’s pulse spiked. “You were born to be praised, Rowan. I can fucking feel it. Look how perfectly you’re waiting for me.”

“Thank you.” The words caught in Rowan’s throat. He already felt full, sated beyond what any drink of blood could achieve.

“I think that’s enough talking for now. Do you have any lube in here?” Lane glanced around.

Shit. Rowan’s mind raced. He didn’t want to move from the desk. If it weren’t for the curse, Lane could duck across the hall. “Wait, yes, I think so. There’s a gift basket in the cupboard.” He pointed.

Lane sauntered over and opened it. “Lucky.” He set an unopened bottle on the desk and went to lock the door.

Instead of coming around the desk as Rowan expected, Lane returned to his previous place in front of him. He pulled off his shirt and tossed it next to Rowan. The soft thud of the fabric hitting the wood made him shiver.

Fair hair covered Lane’s chest, trailing down his stomach, and disappeared into his waistband. He must have noticed Rowan’s gaze, because his hand followed his line of sight, moving lower to cup his crotch.

“Like what you see?”

“Yes.” Rowan lifted his gaze.

Lane smiled, a little smug and bursting with warmth. He undid his jeans and dropped them to the floor, toeing off his shoes. His cock strained against his dark boxer briefs, and he took a moment to toy with himself through the material, watching Rowan’s every reaction. Lane groaned in response, squeezing himself. He shucked off the underwear and threw them on the desk. They landed right in front of Rowan’s face.

Stepping forward, Lane ran a hand through Rowan’s hair. “Love how patient you are.”

Rowan glowed. “I’m glad it pleases you.”

“It does, especially when I know how needy you are. I told you to get in position, and you did, waiting without complaint, but I want to touch you now.”

Lane walked around the desk and gripped Rowan’s hips, then ran a hand up his spine, the fabric of his shirt sliding against his skin. “You look so good in these damn clothes.”

He hadn’t worn a suit jacket today, leaving his outfit at a dress shirt and slacks.