Rihan's rut didn't end that night. It didn't end the next morning either.
The world outside the condo simply ceased to exist.
The curtains stayed shut, the air thick with pheromones, heat, and the tangled scent of two bodies refusing to separate.
For seven days, Taeryn lost track of everything. Time, hunger, sleep, and even his own name at certain points. His mind, body, and soul were consumed by a single focus... Rihan.
Rihan's scent. Rihan's voice.
Rihan's hands dragging him back each time his legs gave out. Rihan's body pounding him open again and again, rut-drunk, merciless, unstoppable.
The thrusts only paused when Rihan finally collapsed from exhaustion and even then, it never lasted long. A few hours at most before he rolled back over, grabbed Taeryn by the hips or the throat, and took him again, ignoring Taeryn's shaking, his broken pleas, his limp mind barely able to form a thought.
Sometimes Rihan was gentle. Sometimes he was not.
