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Zee opened up at once, taking control, licking into his mouth like he’d been starving for something inside Ishir.
Ishir couldn’t help but let out a stunned moan at the sudden attack. His hair was fisted by a ruthless hand, yanked back until he was crowded against the couch arm.
“Fuck,” Zee gasped. He was surprised, too. Ishir could see it on his face, the wet black of his mouth, the sharp dark of his eyes.
“Zee,” Ishir pleaded. He’d been given a taste, and now he was ravenous.
“Yeah,” Zee replied and took his lips again.
The pain from Zee’s hand zapped down from Ishir’s scalp, lightning in his spine. His cock was already filling, but it was secondary to the desperation leaving claw marks in his mind.
He needed more. Needed Zee to dig his nails into his skin and draw blood. To leave marks that couldn’t be erased.
Ishir shifted, unsure if he was trying to get away, scared by this howling longing, but Zee stilled him with a hand around his throat.
Their eyes locked. Another line in the dirt.
This wasn’t normal. Not even for them. They joked and scented and belonged to each other like friends did.
This was a whole different beast.
With that knowledge glowing inside Ishir, he lifted his chin, giving himself up.
Some emotion broke over Zee’s face, the wash of a retreating tide revealing the secrets beneath. It was drowned by lust a breath later, though, too quickly to interpret.
Zee shoved Ishir in an ironic parody of wrestling as kids. Instead of a headlock, however, the move was followed by another kiss. Another bite, another chunk of Ishir’s skin and soul between Zee’s teeth.
Ishir let himself be secured under the dome of Zee’s body. Let himself be consumed lick by lick, trying to give as good as he got. He was so hard itached, pressing against his joggers, building a sheen of sweat across his skin.
Zee wasn’t doing much better, trembling above him as if he were restraining something feral.
“What do you want?” Zee growled, hand squeezing his throat.
“I just told you.” Ishir strained to reach Zee’s mouth, but he was held in place ruthlessly.
“I want to hear it again.”
Ishir struggled to breathe. He was a million tiny fires, the heat swimming in the air, making it shimmer and bend.
For a few beats, he couldn’t quite recognise Zee. He was a chimaera of two completely different things; the person who Ishir had always wanted, and a person who wanted him in return.
“Tell me,” this new Zee ordered. The confident, bossy person Ishir had always known had grown into this commanding creature.
Ishir couldn’t deny him. “I want you to fuck my face,” he admitted hoarsely.
“You want me to take control.”
It wasn’t a question, but Ishir answered anyway. “Yes.”
“I could make you mine if I wanted,” Zee whispered, fingers digging into Ishir’s mating gland.
Ishir’s eyes fluttered shut.I already am. The truth lay thick in his throat, too big to say.
Ishir gasped as he was forced off the couch and onto his knees. The room swam dizzyingly.
He was so turned-on it was impossible to think.
He watched his own hands yank Zee’s sweats down, relief almost knocking him over when he saw Zee was also hard.
