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“Too much,” Ryneth moaned. His eyes rolled back and he babbled nonsense, his mouth hanging open.
“Tell me who owns you,” Daven ordered, his thrusts driving deep inside him.
“You,” Ryneth choked out, his head lolling. “You do. Daven. Please.”
“Good boy.” Daven’s hand tightened around his balls, his thumb pumping Ryneth’s cock in a fast, punishing motion. “Cum for me, baby. Let the static go. Give it all to me.”
Ryneth’s breath turned into a jagged rasp, his vision tunneling as the pleasure peaked. He bucked against the glass, his hips meeting Daven’s with a wet, heavy thud. “I’m—I’m—Daven!”
“Do it,” Daven growled, his own heart slamming against Ryneth’s back. “Show me how a good boy breaks for me.”
Ryneth unraveled. He came with a strangled shout, his release hitting the glass in white streaks. The static erupted, a halo of blue light that turned the room into a star for one blinding second.
Daven followed him over the edge, his body shuddering as he came hard. He pushed deeper, his hand still around Ryneth’s spent cock, holding him through the tremors. Then he slumped against Ryneth’s back, chest heaving, and rested his own forehead against the cool pane.
Still buried deep inside Ryneth’s warm, tight tunnel, he cupped Ryneth’s velvety balls and rolled them in his palm. “Mine.”
Ryneth released a shaky breath in reply.
Daven shifted behind him and finally pulled free. The cool air rushed in immediately.
“Fuck,” Ryneth muttered.
Daven laughed softly against his shoulder. “Cold?”
“A little.”
“Good.” Daven reached for the folded blankets stacked beside the cushions and wrapped one around Ryneth’s shoulders and another around his own waist.
Ryneth swayed when he shifted back from the glass, then instead of stepping away, he caught the edge of Daven’s blanket and stayed there, close enough that their shoulders pressed under the fabric.
Daven felt it instantly, the difference between the pull of the bond and the way Ryneth stayed close because he wanted to. “Come on,” he said, quieter this time.
Ryneth glanced up at him. “Where?”
“Bed, obviously.”
Ryneth snorted, steadying himself with a hand on Daven’s arm as Daven helped him fully to his feet.
Night had started to fall over Helion. The outer ring was still visible above the skyline, pale against the darkening sky. Somewhere across the city, thunder rolled low enough to make the glass vibrate.
They crossed the terrace wrapped in blankets. Halfway to the door, Daven slowed, glancing up. “That’s strange,” he murmured. “Helion doesn’t usually sound like that.”
Ryneth tilted his head back, listening to the distant thunder. “On Düren, it always sounds like something’s about to break,” he said softly.
Daven looked at him. “And what does this sound like?”
Ryneth turned his head, meeting his gaze with that quiet intensity that kept catching Daven off guard. “Like maybe everything doesn’t feel like it’s about to fall apart when I’m with you.”
Daven stilled. For a second, the air inside him shifted. Then he snorted softly and nudged Ryneth toward the door. “Careful, aethera. You keep talking like that, and I might start thinking you like me.”
25
RYNETH
Ryneth woke to sunlight warming his face.
And to Daven standing in the kitchen, mumbling to himself.
