Page 143 of Aryn

We kiss and dance, sometimes doing nothing more than holding each other and swaying to the music. The song changes and the beat kicks up, and I dance while Cato tries to keep up. Every time he missteps, I catch him, pulling him back in until we’re both laughing. The firelight flickers across his face, highlighting his flushed cheeks and bright eyes.

After a lifetime of being empty, my chest feels too full—stretched thin with this absurd happiness.

Eventually the music slows, and I draw him in until our bodies are flush and our kisses deeper. A vendor weaves through the crowd, carrying a tray of hand-rolled thraeva with an open-flamed lantern beside it. The sweet, herbal scent drifts toward us on the night air, and I catch Cato’s eye and raise a brow. He gives me a slow smile and nods.

I wave the vendor over and buy one of the neatly rolled sticks, then light the end with his lantern. We step a little further from the dancing crowd, finding a quieter spot near one of the smaller bonfires where the shadows are softer.

I take the first slow pull, holding the smoke in my lungs before leaning in. Cato meets me halfway, lips parted. I exhale gently into his mouth, feeding him the smoke as our lips brush in a lazy kiss. He inhales deeply, eyes fluttering half-closed, then holds it.

When he breathes the smoke back into my mouth, I groan softly against his lips. The thraeva hits quickly, softening the edges of the world and warming my veins. We pass the roll back and forth, taking slow pulls and sharing smoke and breath and kisses that grow deeper each time.

Cato’s hands slide under my coat, gripping my waist as he exhales into me again. His tongue teases mine while the sweet smoke curls between us. I press him back against the wall, caging him in with my body as I kiss him properly, deep and unhurried, tasting the thraeva on his tongue.

“Fuck,” he breathes, pupils blown wide. “This stuff is dangerous with you.”

I smile against his mouth, then take another pull before leaning in to blow it between his parted lips. “Good dangerous?”

“The best kind,” he murmurs, chasing my mouth for another smoky kiss. Everything feels electric right now, with each touch hitting like sparks on my skin. His hands tighten on my hips, pulling me closer until our bodies are flush again, and I feel him hard against me.

“You remember those stories about my wild youth?” I murmur as I give up the fight on my arousal. Heat pools low in my belly as slick dampens my skin, and I shudder as his thigh moves against my cock.

His cheeks are flushed, and he’s beautiful in the firelight as he licks his lips. “The one where you fucked in bars and back alleys?”

“Mmm,” I hum in agreement as my mouth drifts to his ear. “I want to be inside you, and I don’t have the patience to get back.” He whimpers softly, calloused fingers slipping under the waist of my pants. “Do you want to be wild with me, kitten?”

Cato

Aryn pulls me into a narrow alley just off the square. The shadows between the buildings are dark, and a stack of wooden crates half-blocks our bodies. We’re close enough that the glow of the bonfires flickers at the entrance and the music drifts over to us. Distant laughter and drumbeats pulse in the background. Firelight dances off bodies, moving close enough that if they looked our direction, they might spot us.

The risk goes straight to my head.

Aryn doesn’t waste time. The second we’re far enough away, he spins me around and shoves my back against the cold stone wall. His mouth crashes into mine as he presses his whole body against me. I groan into the kiss, hands sliding under his shirt to find bare skin. His muscles flex under my palms, so hot compared to the frigid night.

Aryn growls against my lips as his hips snap forward, one hand greedily on the back of my neck while the other holds the thraeva. We grind against each other, too impatient to bother with moving our clothes. Fabric drags along my oversensitive cock, a touch of pain along with the endless pleasure as we build a rhythm. Heat erupts over my skin as my eyes flutter closed, quiet gasps leaving my throat in time with Aryn’s thrusts.

“Oh,” I breathe, like I’m surprised.

Like I’ve somehow forgotten how good it can be.

“Oh, fuck. Please.”

I’m not even sure what I’m asking for. To come right now? To never stop?

My fingers drift lower toward his waistband, desperate for bare skin on skin. If I could just feel the slide of his cock against mine, it’d be over. I know that. I’d come right now and cover him with my release, and I wouldn’t regret it for a fucking second.

“Not so fast,” Aryn murmurs as he catches my wrist and drags it higher. He guides my fingers over his piercings. “Pull on these, kitten. I want to feel it.”

My thumbs swipe over his nipples, grinning as they peak under my touch. I pinch the flesh and roll it between my fingertips, then give them a pull. Aryn moans—low, filthy, and absolutely fucking gorgeous—as his hips jerk hard against mine. The sound of his wavering control goes straight to my cock.

“Fuck, like that,” he breathes, nipping at my bottom lip. “Again… harder.”

My fingers hook the metal and tug, and Aryn moans again, louder this time. I tease his piercings, tugging and twisting just hard enough to make him shudder and groan into my mouth. The thraeva burns between his fingers, and like he’s ready to get rid of it, he takes a long, drawn-out pull. Hazy smoke floats between us as he leans in, blowing it into my mouth as we kiss. I inhale it greedily, enjoying the way my entire body feels like it’s floating.

One of his hands slides down my stomach and into my pants, wrapping around my cock to stroke me in slow, torturous motions. The music and laughter from the square feel so far away, but the thrill of being close makes every touch hit harder. Aryn tightens his grip, and I buck into his fist with a broken sound. Static crackles off my skin where he touches me, and the pressure in my core is already throbbing, threatening to break free.

He grins against my lips. “Quiet, love… unless you want them to hear how good I make you feel.”

I clench my muscles, trying to stave off the overwhelming rush of sensation. Aryn pulls back with dark, pleased eyes, undoubtedly feeling what he’s doing to me. Pre-cum leaks over his hand, making his grip even slipperier as he strokes faster.