Clevon's skin was half flame. Something about being teased sent a hot shiver of need up his back--and his promised husband had a clever, wicked sense of humor. And maybe no small power of enchantment: Clevon's grip obliged him as though summoned by the attention, drawing snug for the amusement sparkling in Caleb's voice.
"Oh," Clevon tried to chuckle with him and instead gave a bright hard whine for the promise of more, nipping back an oath by biting his own lip. "Properly?"
He knew. Everyone knew about rams and ewes. But this game was too good, and he was eager to give as good as he got. Or at least try his best.
"Proper firm like a proper wife," it should've crackled, arch and smart, except he moaned a little. "Marched to the chapel all full of our love, fit to bust my gown? We'd kill the poor priest."
Clevon looked right up at him, head on, because he did not want to miss his promised mate's face for that--only to be snared entirely by the way Caleb was watching him, by the spread of his smile tender and sharp, gentled by a soft growl. Caleb made a vow of his feelings, low and velvet, and brushed him softly on the cheek.
To be held intimately and with such kindness, both at once, was almost overwhelming. Clevon dropped his gaze, quiet and beaming, feeling the smile bloom broad beside his mate's hand and not trusting his own voice.
His heart was so full it was in his throat.
"I'll give you everything." It staggered out low, rough with feeling. "All I can. Every day of my life."
And as for the children--their beautiful future--
Everyone knew about lambs, too. There was always risk. And he and his instincts both were certain sure he wanted--
"Twins!" Sharp, shivering through a greedy little snarl, "We'll, ah, just have to keep trying," hands fisted tight in the bedclothes as he danced on his promised mate's fingers, "hah! Until we welcome a pair."
He shivered to attention for the knock at the door, made himself hold very still against a harsh tide of new urges--a cold wash of alarm and hot, sudden possessive rage to tear to pieces this intruder who dared come anywhere near--a rush made sharp and complex by how thoroughly he was still being tended to.
They were strong, but they were only feelings. He had beaten them before. And Caleb wasn't going anywhere.
Wasn't going far. Had carefully freed himself and told off the interloper, kissing Clevon softly. He hummed in delighted surprise and leaned up into it. That was a beautiful, marvelous thing he wanted to do again immediately--
Just as soon as he saw whatever had drawn his promised mate from the safety of their den.
"What is it?"
Inane, maybe; but as soon as his husband to be had mentioned it, Clevon remembered he was powerfully thirsty.
no subject
"Oh," Clevon tried to chuckle with him and instead gave a bright hard whine for the promise of more, nipping back an oath by biting his own lip. "Properly?"
He knew. Everyone knew about rams and ewes. But this game was too good, and he was eager to give as good as he got. Or at least try his best.
"Proper firm like a proper wife," it should've crackled, arch and smart, except he moaned a little. "Marched to the chapel all full of our love, fit to bust my gown? We'd kill the poor priest."
Clevon looked right up at him, head on, because he did not want to miss his promised mate's face for that--only to be snared entirely by the way Caleb was watching him, by the spread of his smile tender and sharp, gentled by a soft growl. Caleb made a vow of his feelings, low and velvet, and brushed him softly on the cheek.
To be held intimately and with such kindness, both at once, was almost overwhelming. Clevon dropped his gaze, quiet and beaming, feeling the smile bloom broad beside his mate's hand and not trusting his own voice.
His heart was so full it was in his throat.
"I'll give you everything." It staggered out low, rough with feeling. "All I can. Every day of my life."
And as for the children--their beautiful future--
Everyone knew about lambs, too. There was always risk. And he and his instincts both were certain sure he wanted--
"Twins!" Sharp, shivering through a greedy little snarl, "We'll, ah, just have to keep trying," hands fisted tight in the bedclothes as he danced on his promised mate's fingers, "hah! Until we welcome a pair."
He shivered to attention for the knock at the door, made himself hold very still against a harsh tide of new urges--a cold wash of alarm and hot, sudden possessive rage to tear to pieces this intruder who dared come anywhere near--a rush made sharp and complex by how thoroughly he was still being tended to.
They were strong, but they were only feelings. He had beaten them before. And Caleb wasn't going anywhere.
Wasn't going far. Had carefully freed himself and told off the interloper, kissing Clevon softly. He hummed in delighted surprise and leaned up into it. That was a beautiful, marvelous thing he wanted to do again immediately--
Just as soon as he saw whatever had drawn his promised mate from the safety of their den.
"What is it?"
Inane, maybe; but as soon as his husband to be had mentioned it, Clevon remembered he was powerfully thirsty.