Chapter 8: The Morning After
The silence in the car had been a living thing, thick with the scent of their joining and the heat of Enn’s surrender. He’d dozed against the window, the rhythmic motion of the car and the persistent, low ache inside him a strange lullaby. He didn’t remember the ascent to Kael’s penthouse, only the solid weight of Kael’s arm around his waist, guiding him from the private elevator, through the minimalist expanse of darkened living space, and into the sanctuary of the bedroom.
Kael had undressed him with a silent, ritualistic care, his fingers brushing the hay-dust from his skin, wiping away the last traces of the shed from his thighs with a damp, warm cloth. He’d put Enn to bed naked between cool, high-threadcount sheets, and Enn had fallen into a depthless sleep the moment his head touched the pillow.
He woke to weight and warmth. A solid arm was draped over his ribs, a palm splayed possessively across his sternum. Kael’s breath stirred the hair at the nape of his neck. The early light filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows was the pale grey of just-before-dawn. Enn was instantly, completely awake. Every sensation was magnified. The soreness in his muscles. The faint, clean scent of Kael’s skin. The hard press of Kael’s erection against the small of his back.
And his own body, traitorously eager, already half-hard.
He lay perfectly still, afraid to move, afraid to breathe. The defiance of yesterday was ash. In its place was a hollowed-out readiness, a terrible, beautiful need that stared back at him from the darkness behind his own eyelids.
“I know you’re awake.” Kael’s voice was a sleep-roughened vibration against his spine. The hand on his chest moved, sliding down the plane of his stomach, beneath the sheet. Fingers trailed through the fine hair there. “Your heart is racing, little wolf.”
Enn said nothing. He couldn’t. His tail, trapped between his own legs and Kael’s, gave an involuntary, jerking twitch.
Kael’s hand closed around his cock.
A sharp gasp tore from Enn’s throat. Kael’s grip was firm, knowing, his thumb swiping over the leaking slit, spreading the moisture in a slow, deliberate circle. He began to stroke, a lazy, maddening rhythm that had Enn’s hips pushing helplessly into the friction.
“You’re mine,” Kael murmured, his lips against Enn’s shoulder blade. It wasn’t a question. It was a fact, whispered into his skin like a sacrament. “Every part of you. This frantic pulse,” his hand tightened, “this heat, this pretty cock getting slick in my hand. It all belongs to me.”
Enn whimpered, his ears flattening against his skull. He was fully hard now, aching, every nerve ending focused on that slow, tormenting stroke. He was drowning in it, in the certainty of Kael’s words.
Then the hand was gone. The warmth at his back shifted. Before Enn could protest, could even form a thought, the sheets were pulled down. Kael moved down the bed, his black ears stark against the pale linen.
He didn’t tease. He didn’t ask.
He took Enn into his mouth in one deep, swallowing glide.
Enn cried out, his back arching off the mattress. The heat was shocking, perfect, wet and tight. Kael’s mouth was a furnace, his tongue a relentless pressure along the sensitive vein underneath. He hollowed his cheeks and sucked, hard, and Enn saw white behind his eyes.
“Kael—fuck—“
Kael’s only answer was to take him deeper, his nose pressing into the coarse hair at the base. Enn felt the head of his cock nudge the back of Kael’s throat, and then, impossibly, Kael relaxed and took him all, swallowing around him. The sensation was unreal, a tight, molten slickness that drew a broken sob from Enn’s chest. His hands flew to Kael’s head, his fingers tangling in the dark hair, not to push away but to anchor himself as his hips stuttered upward, fucking helplessly into that exquisite heat.
Kael let him. He held still, his throat working, his eyes open and locked on Enn’s face. He was watching, Enn realized with a jolt. Watching him come completely undone in the grey dawn light. The intensity of that gaze, combined with the relentless suction of his mouth, was too much.
The coil in his gut snapped.
“I’m—I’m gonna—“ he choked out, a warning he couldn’t finish.
Kael dug his fingers into Enn’s hips, holding him down, and took it. Enn came with a shattered cry, his vision blurring, his release pulsing in hot, salty streaks down Kael’s throat. Kael swallowed every drop, his Adam’s apple bobbing, until Enn was spent, twitching and oversensitive.
As Enn collapsed back onto the pillows, boneless and gasping, Kael crawled back up his body. He loomed over Enn, his own need evident in the rigid line of his cock, in the dark, possessive hunger in his eyes. His lips were swollen, damp. He leaned down and kissed Enn, deep and thorough, letting him taste the faint, bitter trace of himself on Kael’s tongue.
“Good,” Kael whispered against his mouth. His voice was gravel. “Now return the favor.”
He rolled onto his back, pulling Enn with him, guiding him down the length of his body. Enn went, his mind hazy with submission and spent pleasure. He settled between Kael’s spread thighs, his face level with Kael’s erection. It was thick, curving slightly upward, the head dark and flushed. The scent of it, musky and purely Kael, filled his senses.
“Open,” Kael commanded, his hand coming to rest on the back of Enn’s head.
Enn licked his lips, then obeyed. He took the head into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the slit, tasting pre-come. It was salty, clean. He looked up, meeting Kael’s burning gaze.
“Deeper.”
Enn pushed down, taking more. The stretch was uncomfortable, unfamiliar. He gagged, his eyes watering.
Kael’s fingers tightened in his hair. “Relax your throat. Take it. All of it.”
Enn tried. He focused on breathing through his nose, on relaxing his jaw. He pushed further, feeling the head press against the back of his throat. He gagged again, tears spilling over.
“Look at me,” Kael growled.
Enn looked, his eyes wide and streaming. The sight seemed to drive Kael wilder. He pushed up, just a little, forcing another inch into Enn’s mouth. “You can take it. You took me in your ass in a filthy shed. You can take this.”
The words, the memory, unlocked something. Enn moaned around the intrusion, the vibration making Kael curse. He sucked, hollowing his cheeks, and forced himself to take more, until his nose was buried in the dark hair at Kael’s base. He was full, achingly so, but a perverse pride surged through him. He could do this. He could please him.
He began to move, bobbing his head, using his tongue, his hand working the base. He lost himself in the rhythm, in the heavy, intoxicating weight on his tongue, in the low, approving grunts from above. His own needs were forgotten, subsumed by this single, focused task: making Kael come.
“Just like that,” Kael rasped, his hips beginning to cant upward, meeting Enn’s strokes. “Fuck, your mouth… so good for me.”
The praise was a drug. Enn redoubled his efforts, sucking harder, faster. He felt Kael’s muscles tense, heard his breath hitch. The hand in his hair became a vise.
“I’m going to come. Swallow it. Swallow every fucking drop.”
Enn prepared, took a final deep breath through his nose, and pressed down, taking Kael to the hilt once more. Kael slammed up into him with a raw, guttural sound that was more animal than man. Hot, bitter salt flooded Enn’s mouth. He swallowed convulsively, again and again, as Kael emptied himself down his throat, his body bowing off the bed. Enn kept swallowing until the pulses subsided, until Kael’s grip relaxed from a bruising hold to a gentle caress.
He released him, sliding off with a soft, wet sound. He was panting, his lips sore, his jaw aching. He rested his forehead against Kael’s sweat-damp thigh.
For a long moment, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing settling. Then Kael shifted, pulling Enn up the bed like he weighed nothing. He arranged him, pulling the sheets over them, and spooned around him, his front to Enn’s back. His arm banded around Enn’s waist, pulling him tight against his chest. His lips found the sensitive spot just below Enn’s ear.
“Every morning,” Kael whispered, his voice soft but iron-clad. “You wake up mine. This is how we start the day. With you remembering who you belong to.”
Enn didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. His body was the answer—pliant, spent, perfectly molded against Kael’s. His tail, freed now, gave a slow, drowsy thump against Kael’s leg. The rebellion was gone, burned away in the heat of that mouth, in the act of surrender. What was left in its place was a terrifying truth, one that seeped into his bones as he drifted back towards sleep, caged in Kael’s arms.
He didn’t want to belong to anyone else. Ever.