Page 66 of Nyte

Haven stared at him for a long moment as his resolve weakened. He could do this. He could drink and stop himself. He could drink if it meant saving Cypress’s life. “Come here.” He didn’t dare touch as Cypress leaned in. The honey-colored skin of his neck grazed Haven’s lips.

He bit down.

Pure bliss slid over his tongue as his mouth was flooded with the delicious warmth of Cypress’s blood. He moaned and heard Cypress do the same. The human’s thick, muscled body pressed into him, chin nuzzling against his temple. Cypress’s heavy breath tickled his ear as Haven dragged his lips across his neck.

“God, fuck…” Cypress’s voice was thick with desire. His hands roved Haven’s body, twining themselves in Haven’s hair, tugging. Between his legs, Cypress was rock hard. Haven could feel the length of him rutting against his leg.

Still, Haven took. Cypress’s blood was like a drug, addictive, sensual. Coppery and sweet, it was unlike anything Haven had ever tasted. He never wanted to stop tasting it. He needed more.

He sucked hard, drawing it out while Cypress continued to mewl and groan. Hearing such pathetic sounds coming from a man like Cypress set Haven ablaze with desire. The ache in his groin persisted. He wanted Cypress to touch him.

Fuck.

Cypress began to slouch into him, his fingers going slack in Haven’s hair. Haven was taking too much. He needed to pull away or risk killing him. But the taste was so sublime. It felt so good. He wanted to consume Cypress, to absorb him completely until there was nothing left.

His mind flashed then, to an image he’d attempted to shut away. Tobin. Drained. Dead. But his face was no longer his own. It was Cypress’s.

Haven wouldn’t go through that again.

With all the strength he possessed, he wrenched his lips free from Cypress’s neck. Cypress, though weakened, looked up at him, blinking, panting in desire. And without thinking, Haven plunged forward and enveloped Cypress’s lips with his own.

Cypress groaned, his hands moving to grip Haven’s neck and tilt his face for better access. In only a matter of moments, their positions had flipped, Cypress’s back against the bed frame, Haven climbing into his lap. Their tongues clashed for purchase. Haven had never felt so feral, so out of control.

But Cypress stalled. He withdrew slightly, staring up into Haven’s face, kiss pinked lips parted in confusion and concern. “Haven…”

The way Cypress said his name sent shivers down Haven’s spine. “Why did you stop?” he hissed.

“You don’t want this. It’s the Ambrosia.”

“How do you know what I want?”

“You’re not yourself. If you’ll regret it after the drug has worn off, I won’t let you do it.”

Haven blinked, studying that handsome, sincere face. How dare this human think he knew what Haven wanted. How dare he have a conscience. How dare he say these things and send Haven’s mind into a spinning mess of confusion.

The human wanted Haven’s consent. No one had ever asked for his consent before. Cypress wanted Haven to want it. To wanthim.Fuck. Haven wasn’t sure he’d ever wanted anything more.

Haven reached out, taking Cypress’s hand in his own and bringing it to his own still-clothed but solid cock. “I won’t regret it, human. Fucking touch me before I change my mind.”

Cypress didn’t hesitate. He claimed Haven’s mouth again, thrusting his tongue deep inside. Owning, demanding. Haven gasped, allowing himself to fall into the touch of those hands, the caress of those lips.

Cypress stroked him through his pants, his fingers massaging Haven’s swollen tip. Haven cried out. It felt so good, so achingly, gloriously good. Like every time he’d been forced to take Ambrosia, all the nerve endings of his body were alight with intensity. His body screamed for touch, for skin-to-skin contact. He almost wept when Cypress began to untie the laces of his pants, when his fingers dipped inside.

He whimpered when Cypress gripped him and tugged, sliding his foreskin back from his sensitive head. His thumb ran over the slit, sending shockwaves of pleasure down Haven’s spine.

“Is this okay?” Cypress asked, his voice choked and hesitant.

“Yes. Yes. Keep going.” Haven pumped himself into Cypress’s hand, desperate. “More.” He hated to beg, but right now, at this moment, there was nothing he needed more than this. Nothing he wanted more than Cypress’s hands on him, propelling him toward release.

Cypress did as he was told, grasping hold of Haven’s cock and his hair at the same time as though he was afraid of losing contact. He was just as aroused as Haven. In a bold move Haven barely thought himself capable of, he slipped a hand free from the carpet and plunged it beneath the waistband of Cypress’s trousers.

Cypress moaned, breathy and deep, as though Haven’s touch was a surprise. His deep brown eyes flashed to meet Haven’s, and then they were kissing again, deep and passionate and feral.

Haven longed to bite, to suck, to take more and more and more. They fought for dominance until Cypress grasped both their shafts together and tugged, the friction sending tremors through Haven’s body.

“Feels so good…” Cypress muttered against Haven’s lips.

It did. It felt sinful, so desperately erotic. The blood coursing through Haven’s veins, mixing with the Ambrosia, churned inside his gut, intermingling with the crashing waves of pleasure. He never wanted it to stop.

---