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Quinten was it.
His jaguar was purring in happiness, the sound so faint in the room he doubted Quinten could hear it over their heavy breathing. But it’d grow stronger as Caden recovered, and he wouldn’t be able to hide his satisfaction.
Goddess, he didn’t want to either. He wanted to revel in finding someone who saw him so clearly, who knew what he needed before he did.
Taking deep, ragged breaths, Quinten stared down at the mess he’d made for a moment, pure male satisfaction oozing out of him. Caden watched, completely captivated and trusting that Quinten wouldn’t leave him on the edge.
Quinten ran his tongue over his top teeth. “You look well-used, kitten.”
Caden whimpered.
Grinning, Quinten gripped his cheeks and spread him back open, humming appreciatively. “So beautiful.”
He could only watch, transfixed, as Quinten rubbed his thumbs at the mess, inching closer to Caden’s hole. Moaning, he pressed his face into the bed and pushed up, begging wordlessly for more.
Quinten’s wet tongue licked up one of his cheeks just as he pushed a thumb coated in his come inside Caden. All the sensations, the knowledge of what Quinten was doing, threw him over the edge.
He cried out, voice muffled, as he squeezed down on that thick digit, wishing it was something bigger and longer but loving every second. Quinten pushed in harder before pulling down, stretching Caden’s hole open.
Come shot out of him, his eyes rolling back in his head and every muscle tensing.
Quinten was murmuring something behind him, but he couldn’t hear it over the blood rushing in his ears.
As soon as he finished coming, he flopped down, boneless.
Quinten chuckled. “You okay?”
“Killed me,” he mumbled, eyes already closing. His body was heavy and pulsing with satisfaction.
“What a way to go,” Quinten said softly, nuzzling into the back of Caden’s neck. “At least roll out of the wet spot before you pass out.”
“Can’t…”
Just as sleep took him, he felt big, rough hands gently tugging at him.
Chapter Eleven
Quinten headed straight for the cup of french press coffee sitting on the butcher block island in his kitchen. Mrs. Burns always made it for him and had it ready at 7:45 whenever he was staying at the house. She knew his routine better than he did some days.
He was taking his first sip when he realized there was another silent presence in the room. He glanced over at Dare with his eyebrows raised.
The wolf’s serious face was pinched with a frown, and then he inhaled exaggeratedly.
If Quinten wasn’t who he was, he probably would’ve been embarrassed.
Fucking shifters with their damn noses.
It wasn’t anything he wasn’t used to, but it could still be aggravating. Hell, Liam used to make comments when Quinten was a teenager and couldn’t keep his hand off his dick. He’d learned early you couldn’t be around parahumans and maintain any sort of dignity.
“Is there something you want to say?” he asked Dare, taking another sip of his glorious coffee. He wasn’t sure what Mrs. Burns did to it, but it was always a little bit better than the housekeeper in his penthouse could do.
And ten times better than what he could do himself.
Dare still didn’t say anything, just crossed his arms over his chest. The permanent sneer from his scar seemed deeper than normal.
“Don’t be a judgy puppy,” Quinten said. “He’s a grown adult.”
“He’s vulnerable,” Dare said in a low voice.
