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“Jesse,” he said, his name sounding more like a growl than a word, straining his arms so the handcuffs groaned, “hurry.”
Jesse withdrew his fingers, lubricated his twitching cock with shaking hands and moved up the bed so they were nose to nose. Emory stared into his eyes. Jesse hung there a moment, enjoying the feel of Emory’s body, taut and ready, under him.
“I’m yours, Jesse.”
Jesse pushed forward. The tight heat swallowing him combined with the Blood firing in his veins was like nothing he had ever felt or knew he could feel. He made a noise, but it was on some far, distant plane that he was momentarily incapable of processing. Emory lifted his hips, taking Jesse deep inside and tightening around him like a fist.
Jesse clung to Emory’s body like a drowning man. He pressed his forehead against Emory’s chest, breathing the smell of his skin deep and holding himself still until the sensation of being about to fall off a cliff ebbed. Then he drew out of Emory’s body, held himself still, then slid in again. Emory panted his name, but Jesse was numb to everything but the waves of liquid sunlight rolling over his body. He thrusted in and out, deeper, faster, clutching hard to the rigid muscles of Emory’s back. He needed more, needed to know this body, inside and out—this body that was strong enough to rip Jesse to pieces, but which Emory had chosen to share with him, to let him hold, taste, fuck and be fucked by, experience every inch of it even more thoroughly than his own.
Jesse lifted himself onto his hands so he could see Emory’s face as he sped up. Emory’s eyes were burning. He was breathing fast through his open mouth, his teeth and lips wet and glistening. His hair was stuck to his forehead by sweat.
“Harder, Jesse,” he breathed, and Jesse let out a strangled noise and obeyed. The rattle of the cuffs grew louder. The bed creaked. Jess swore and cursed and made nonsense sounds, feeling his control slip away.
“God… God,” Jesse said, throwing his head back as Emory tilted his hips, deepening the penetration. He strained against the cuffs and groaned, open-mouthed. His muscles tightened around Jesse.
Jesse came in a blinding, ruby-glittered curtain of heart-stopping ecstasy. He hurriedly fumbled for Emory’s cock and Jesse heard him cry out from beyond the echoing in his ears. Hot, fragrant liquid spattered over his belly.
Jesse lay on Emory’s heaving chest for a long time. His skin was oversensitive, rippling at Emory’s every breath brushing his shoulder. He was still buried inside and was afraid to move, wondering just which bits of ugly reality were waiting for them once Jesse pulled out and the moment had passed.
“Liebling,” Emory finally whispered, “are you well?”
Jesse nodded, lifted himself to slide out of Emory and rolled off him. He fumbled shakily with the restraints until he found the releases. Emory lowered his arms with a low groan then drew Jesse to him. Jesse tucked his head under Emory’s jaw and let himself lie still.
“How are you feeling?”
“Empty,” Jesse whispered against Emory’s chest, “but better.”
“I’m glad,” Emory said, as he traced his fingers over the tribal designs on Jesse’s arm.
“You wanted to know,” Jesse mumbled. “About the ink?” Emory propped his head on his hand and looked into his face but didn’t speak. Jesse lowered his gaze. “I meant what I said. The designs themselves don’t mean much.” He ran his fingers over the roses on his ribs. “But each time I got one, I felt like I was becoming less the boy with no mum, less the boy who didn’t understand how to be sad enough to please his family. Less him and more me.”
“That’s very sad. But very beautiful.”
Jesse rolled his head on the pillow and gave Emory a tired smile. “You’re just saying that ’cause you want to go to bed with me again.”
“I would very much like to go to bed with you again,” Emory said. His face turned wistful. “I’d also like to take you on holiday, teach you to ride, take Dimity to a theme park with you—things human families do. Whatever else I said, I am acutely aware I can’t be a normal family to anyone.”
“I’m sure we can do some of those things,” Jesse said thoughtfully after a pause. “When all this shit’s settled down, anyway.”
Emory watched him. “So you believe I can be a dad again?”
Jesse gave him a long look. “I think I always did. I was just… scared.”
“Inducing fear is something I’m unfortunately used to,” Emory said, and the gravity in his tone made Jesse’s belly dip. But when he looked back, Emory was smiling. “But I’m just glad you changed your mind.” He kissed the corner of Jesse’s mouth and sat up with a sigh. “I have matters to attend to, I’m afraid,” he said, moving into the bathroom.
“What are you going to do?”
“Meet with Greenway,” Emory said, running the tap. “And Darragh. Decide what to do next.”
Jesse heard the sound of brushing teeth. He leaned over and saw Emory stood at the mirror, a towel around his waist, brushing at his long canines.
“As if you brush your teeth.”
Emory spat then glanced over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“I can’t imagine there’s much sugar in blood,” Jesse said.
“There’s sugar in alcohol. Fizzy drinks. I like those.”
