He could not imagine a time when he wouldn’t welcome Rory’s touch. Gentle and warm, fingers laced through his; slow and careful, tracing the line of his cheek; fierce and possessive, hands wrapped around his arms, holding him close. And especially the soft, seeking touches to his fox’s ears, a part of him he had never imagined allowing anyone else to see, much less stroke. It sent shivers through him, a gasp of pleasure that had as much to do with trust as lust as he buried his lips against Rory’s skin in response, muffling the little moan of happiness that slipped out and inspired him to draw similar noises from his lover.
The hunter was heat and hardness beneath him, sweet skin and lean muscle and instinctive reactions that Jigano learned anew with every kiss and caress. His world shrank to the moonlight-dappled body he began to explore with such impatient patience; he heard only Rory’s panted breath, tasted only his sweat on a questing tongue, felt only the flex and release of tension in the hunter as he arched and moved beneath the lorekeeper. The response to his question earned a low growl of appreciation and approval and he began to work his way down with a care that ached, a pace he could barely maintain without speeding up.
At least, until the moans began in earnest, and the restless hands that begged as sweetly as any words. He was exquisitely aware of each shift of Rory’s hips beneath him, and the readiness of his mate as his teasing kisses drifted down the blond’s chest. He paused to coax a nipple to hardness with his tongue, nipping lightly at the little nub before finally pushing himself up, pausing a moment to drink in the sight of the beautiful creature beneath him, wild and hungry and wanting in a way that stole Jigano’s breath and humbled him in a way he’d never known.
His hand flexed again on the hip he held, and his gaze drifted down as he sat up fully, drawing a shuddering breath even as he shifted his hand to curl gently around Rory’s erection, warm and protective. He found his lover’s eyes – blue as summer, blue as home, washed pale in the moonlight – again, and the joy in his expression was open and vulnerable as he smiled at the man who held his heart in such capable hands. ”You’re incredible,” he whispered, a final, earnest truth before he shifted back to put his mouth to better use.
He wasted no more time in teasing, but uncurled his hand enough that he could press his lips to the base of Rory’s length, interspersing reverent kisses with hungry swipes of his tongue as he worked his way slowly upwards, breath shuddering over dampened skin as he knelt between his lover’s legs and worshipped at a far more intimate altar than he ever had before.
The hunter was heat and hardness beneath him, sweet skin and lean muscle and instinctive reactions that Jigano learned anew with every kiss and caress. His world shrank to the moonlight-dappled body he began to explore with such impatient patience; he heard only Rory’s panted breath, tasted only his sweat on a questing tongue, felt only the flex and release of tension in the hunter as he arched and moved beneath the lorekeeper. The response to his question earned a low growl of appreciation and approval and he began to work his way down with a care that ached, a pace he could barely maintain without speeding up.
At least, until the moans began in earnest, and the restless hands that begged as sweetly as any words. He was exquisitely aware of each shift of Rory’s hips beneath him, and the readiness of his mate as his teasing kisses drifted down the blond’s chest. He paused to coax a nipple to hardness with his tongue, nipping lightly at the little nub before finally pushing himself up, pausing a moment to drink in the sight of the beautiful creature beneath him, wild and hungry and wanting in a way that stole Jigano’s breath and humbled him in a way he’d never known.
His hand flexed again on the hip he held, and his gaze drifted down as he sat up fully, drawing a shuddering breath even as he shifted his hand to curl gently around Rory’s erection, warm and protective. He found his lover’s eyes – blue as summer, blue as home, washed pale in the moonlight – again, and the joy in his expression was open and vulnerable as he smiled at the man who held his heart in such capable hands. ”You’re incredible,” he whispered, a final, earnest truth before he shifted back to put his mouth to better use.
He wasted no more time in teasing, but uncurled his hand enough that he could press his lips to the base of Rory’s length, interspersing reverent kisses with hungry swipes of his tongue as he worked his way slowly upwards, breath shuddering over dampened skin as he knelt between his lover’s legs and worshipped at a far more intimate altar than he ever had before.
