Kael's control was hanging by a single thread.
He could hear it in the air—the unholy sound of Riley's mouth working over him, the soft suction that made his own breath hitch, the wet heat that pulsed around him with every movement.
To think he'd thought of holding back.
How naive he'd been to assume it'd even be possible when every sound, every swallow kept shredding another layer of restraint.
His fingers trembled where they rested in Riley's hair. And just stopping his hand felt like a full-time job when his body seemed to have a will of its own, bending to the human as every low hum sent a wave through his spine.
But then it happened.
Between the shallow breaths and the steady rhythm, Kael saw it—Riley's hand sliding lower. Not to steady himself. Not to please Kael further.
No.
That hand kept moving.
Downward.
Fingers brushing over the thin silk of his pajama pants that were doing a miserable job of hiding what was underneath.
