Sometime in the middle of the night.
Behind Neville, pressing against him in an intimate embrace, 'Grayson' opened his eyes. His eyes glinted against the dim light, gazing at Neville before him with possessive tenderness and barely restrained hunger from the sheer skin-to-skin contact.
"Still so defenseless," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "Even after all this time, you still have no idea of what's happening around you."
'Grayson' began to extract himself from around Neville's body carefully. Neville stirred slightly from the moment, a small furrow appearing between his brows as the warmth behind him faded.
'Grayson' paused for a second and focused on doing something.
Soon, his pheromones began to move in a way that was no longer that overwhelming and concentrated on filling the room with its scent. A soft but subtle, gentle current of fresh water pheromones washed over Neville, carrying with it an almost addictive quality of assurance and comfort.
