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Feral need.
Jeremiah wanted him.
His lips parted so he could suck in some much-needed air, and Jeremiah’s fiery eyes dropped to his mouth, a low growl building in his chest.
“You are playing with hellfire, boy.”
Remi shuddered at the dark promise behind those low words. He wanted to say he wasn’t afraid, or maybe something sexy and flirty, but nothing would come. All he could focus on was how hot Jeremiah’s hands were where they gripped his upper arms so tightly he might bruise and how closely they were standing to one another.
And the fact that Remi was completely naked.
He definitely couldn’t forget that, especially since his body was reacting to Jeremiah’s closeness in a way he couldn’t control.
Jeremiah inhaled deeply, his eyes fluttering closed for a second, his whole body shuddering, and the tendons in his neck popping to attention. Gods, he was scenting Remi’s arousal. He had to be. He was achingly hard, and his nipples were pebbled. But what was distracting him the most was the needy tug of rightness deep in his belly.
The way his blood—still thrumming in his veins from his brief swim and the fact that he was still half-submerged in the water—sang out yesyesyes pleasepleaseplease.
He felt like…
Like he’d splinter and crack open if Jeremiah didn’t kiss him. Didn’t wrap his scorching hot arms around Remi’s body and hold him tight against his safe and secure torso. Nothing and no one could get to him while he was locked in Jeremiah’s grip. He just knew it.
But he wasn’t really thinking about his safety in that moment.
His next breath was shuddery as fuck as he swiped his tongue over his lips.
He felt like he’d never been kissed before, and that definitely wasn’t the case. But nothing had ever felt like this.
Like the entire world was waiting on their mouths to meet. Like Remi would feel whole for the first time in his life once he could taste Jeremiah’s smoky flavor with his tongue.
When Jeremiah moved just a fraction of an inch closer, his heavy-lidded gaze locked on Remi’s lips, he couldn’t hold back a small sound. The desperation clawing at his insides escaped on a tiny, embarrassing whimper.
“Remi,” Jeremiah whispered, voice hoarse and full of some emotion he couldn’t place. “We can’t…”
When the words died, the sentence going unfinished as Jeremiah’s fingers flexed on his upper arms, Remi nodded. “You’re right.”
But he didn’t try and pull away. Anyone could come by at any moment, the other guards could return, his mom could ruin Jeremiah’s life and business…
None of that mattered as much to him as his need to know if the inside of Jeremiah’s mouth was as scorching hot as he suspected.
Slowly, barely letting himself breathe, Remi raised his hands and inched them forward, not stopping until his wet fingers were pressing into Jeremiah’s hard-as-a-rock abs. Grunting, Jeremiah released one of his hands, but before Remi could miss the heat, his long, thick fingers were threading into the hair on the back of Remi’s head and tugging, forcing his face up and exposing his throat.
He was so vulnerable to this dangerous predator in front of him.
A shiver raced down his spine as he felt a drop of precome drip from his engorged head.
He wasn’t sure if Jeremiah scented that too or what, but he was suddenly looking at gleaming white fangs as the Hellhound snarled softly, then dipped his head down and buried his unshaven face against the side of Remi’s neck and sucked in a harsh breath.
“Fuck.”
His fingers curled into Jeremiah’s downy soft shirt at that rasped expletive, head tipping back to expose more of his throat to him. “Gods, you make me…”
Crazy.
Horny.
Desperate.
Sharp teeth grazed his thin skin, teasing and dangerous all in one. “What?”
