Page 25 of The Naiad's Lover

“Even though I wanted to take the boy out to the middle of my lake and leave him there?”

“You wanted to but you didn’t.” Thank the gods.

He snorted. “I wanted toverymuch, Erik.”

“Why? Because he touched me? That doesn’t mean anything to me. No one’s touch means anything to me. No one’s but yours.”

He’d been sitting back on his heels, but at this he lifted up onto his knees, stretching tall and shuffling closer.

I caught his hips in my hands.

Dusk was falling softly around us. It was a mild, late spring night. His lovely face was still shadowed with unhappiness.

I slipped a hand around to rest on his buttock and encouraged him closer still, even as I sank down to an elbow.

He made an inquiring sound at the back of his throat and followed, knee-walking up until he was straddling my chest. I took hold of his shaft and eased it away from his stomach, angling it towards my mouth. His eyes were fixed on mine, bright with anticipation. I licked the tip and his breath stuttered as his hips flexed forwards.

No one had ever put their mouth on Sayan before me.

It still made me angry to think of it. Angry and sad. In his thousands of years of existence, he had brought pleasure to many. He’d received little for himself in return. Pleasure for him had been transactional, a matter of survival. His lovers had found ecstasy in his arms, and he’d taken nothing but basic sustenance from it.

No one, in all that time, had thought to spoil him, only to be spoiled. They hadn’t sought to arouse and seduce him, only to be aroused and seduced.

It had turned him into a strange mix of utter seductive knowledge and strange, bittersweet innocence.

He could take me apart in minutes. He could bring me to the height of pleasure with a few practiced touches, some filthy whispers, the light brush of lips, and hands. But whenever I played with his cock or his arse, he gasped and squirmed and panted, behaving as if he’d never dreamed of such a thing—even though he’d done it himself to others.

Now, when I pressed my mouth to his inner thigh, when I licked up the length of his shaft to capture the head and suck it hard, his eyes were round and wondering.

I released his buttock and fell to both elbows. He followed me down, one large hand cupping the back of my head protectively, the other holding his erection at the base as he guided it between my lips in a smooth, unbroken move

His hair fell forwards as he settled me on the ground and he kept his hand behind my head, cushioning me from the hard pebbles that dug uncomfortably into my back.

He was a beautiful sight.

He towered over me, his long torso tight with muscle and flexing with each of his shallow thrusts as he dragged slowly in and out of my mouth. In general, he preferred it if I pinned his hips and made him take it at my pace, but as I’d suspected, right now he wanted to reassure himself that he owned my affections.

That he owned me, as I did him.

He didn’t thrust deep. For all that he was an overwhelming, vigorous lover who had on many occasions given me a stitch in my side and left me heaving for breath as if I’d been running for my life, he was ridiculously tentative when it came to this.

Even though I’d have taken him all the way in, as deep as I could, he seemed to prefer playing quietly just inside my mouth. It was the act of entering me that he liked the most. He liked to watch my mouth yield to his cock, see my tongue slip over the head.

The sound of the birds in the trees behind us settling in for the night and of the lake before us lapping gently on the shore all faded as my world narrowed to Sayan and nothing more. He gleamed even in the rising dark, moving over me slowly and relentlessly, gasping with every thrust until his body was all I could see, his breath was all I could hear.

“Erik,” he said, his voice little more than a low vibration. His hips bucked but then, instead of finishing in my mouth as I’d expected, he pulled out, tore open my coat and shirt, and spent on me instead—my neck, my chest, and a little on my face.

I laughed as he did it.

His muscles were cast in sharp relief, clenching in a delicious play of darkness and light as he climaxed with a guttural moan and marked me more thoroughly than he ever had.

His moan tailed off into a deep, satisfied sigh and he eased down to lie on top of me.

“Sayan,” I said with a hint of complaint, catching his sides and attempting to brace him off me.

He grumbled and lay himself fully over me, driving his weight down and rubbing our bodies unsubtly together.

I let him do it, pushing his hair back off his hot face and holding the spill of it at the nape of his neck. He gazed down at me.

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