Page 68 of Burning Ice
Kylix grabbed for the buttons of Mirel’s shirt. His fingers moved fast, rough with need. Each button came undone with a snap of pressure. He bent between every gap, kissing the skin, marking his path down Mirel’s chest. When the last button gave, he tore the shirt open, seams snapping under his hands. He lowered his head, mouth finding a nipple, licking once, then again, rough and hungry before sucking hard enough to pull a broken sound from him.
Kylix heard his own breathing now, rough and uneven, felt the warmth rising off both their bodies. “You like that?” he murmured against the skin. “I can feel you shaking for it.”
Mirel’s protest came breathless, stammered, as he tried to push him away. Kylix caught the movement easily, eyes burning brighter as his jeweled incisors caught the light. His Dariux stirred, hungry and bright, answering the fight with deeper hunger.
He laughed again, darker now, and lowered his head, kissing every inch of bare skin he could reach, shoulder, collarbone, the hollow between breaths. His tongue dragged slow and hot, tasting sweat and frost, drinking in Mirel’s scent until it filled him like fire.
Kylix caught his wrists, lifted them above his head, and held them there. “Keep them there,” he warned, voice low and sharp. “Or I’ll tie them together.”
Mirel’s eyes flashed, defiant even through the fear. Kylix grinned, pleased, the glint of his incisors bright in the dark. When Mirel didn’t move, he leaned in, dragging his mouth lower, teeth grazing skin.
With a rough pull, he tore the rest of Mirel’s clothes free, pants and underwear, until the air hit bare skin. Kylix drewback just long enough to take in the sight, breath hard. His gaze traced the shape of him, the flush of his chest, the curve of his body. Hunger tightened through his jaw, the Dariux answering with a low, burning hum.
He made a show of undressing himself, each movement slow, deliberate. His coat hit the floor first, then his shirt, buttons slipping free beneath sharp fingers. His gaze never left Mirel. “You have no idea what I’ve been thinking about,” he said, voice low, edged with hunger. “How I’d pin you down and taste every inch until you beg.” He stripped off his shirt, heat rolling off his skin. “I’m going to ruin you for anyone else, make sure the whole world knows who you belong to.” He unfastened his belt, metal glinting in the dim light, and pushed his trousers down. “By the time I’m done, you’ll remember exactly what my name feels like on your tongue.”
Mirel’s breath hitched, his voice catching in protest, a broken attempt at defiance. “You don’t get to,” he stammered, but the words dissolved when Kylix moved closer.
Kylix smiled, dark and certain. He leaned down, giving him a wet kiss that caught Mirel’s lower lip, tugging until it opened beneath him. He pressed his body flush to Mirel's, skin against skin, the warmth of his chest meeting Mirel's chill.
Without looking away, he reached for the bedside table, fingers closing around the small bottle of lube. He pulled back just enough to breathe, eyes bright and wild. Then he hooked Mirel's legs over his shoulders, spreading him open with slow, commanding ease.
He looked down, voice rough. “Tell me, little ghost,” he murmured. “Has anyone ever touched you here?”
Mirel glowered up at him, breath catching. “Th-that’s n-none of your business,” he managed, the words stammered but defiant.
Kylix laughed quietly, the sound low and amused. “Everything concerning you is my business,” he said, voice tightening with hunger. “I’ll take that as a no.” He slicked his fingers with lube, tracing the rim, teasing the crease. “Don’t worry,” he murmured. “I’ll be gentle.”
Then he pressed forward, pushing a finger inside.
Mirel jolted, his body tensing. Kylix lowered his mouth from his taut stomach to his shivering thighs.
“So beautiful.”Nip.
Mirel panted.
“Precious.”Nip.
Mirel arched his back, rolling his hips when Kylix pressed in a second finger.
“That’s it, little darae. Feel my fingers. Do they make you feel good?”
Mirel shook his head, his whole body writhing on the sheets, contradicting the lips he pressed into a fine line.
“No?” Kylix’s mouth moved to Mirel’s aching cock, giving it a firm lick before taking the tip between his lips.
Mirel’s hips jerked off the bed.
Kylix hummed around him, grinning when he caught Mirel’s gold-blue gaze. Pulling back his fingers, he added more lube to both his hand and his cock, giving it a few slow strokes. “You like what you see?”
Mirel’s mouth opened. Only broken sounds came out.
“That’s what I thought.” Kylix pressed the tip against him and pushed in, slow, controlled.
He meant to punish him, but somewhere between the sound of Mirel’s breath and the tremor in his thighs, the anger slipped into something else. Something close to need, fear, or even reverence. He hadn’t expected that. He’d expected fire and fight, not this quiet ache clawing at his chest.
He pushed in deeper, inch by inch, every motion deliberate. Mirel’s nails caught the sheets, his throat tight, the sound that left him somewhere between a cry and surrender. Kylix froze, breath breaking. His hands framed Mirel’s face, thumbs brushing the sweat from his cheeks before sliding down his neck.
“Look at me,” he said.
