by Peyton Bogue
“You won’t, Ree,” Sage says softly, caressing his thumb over Rhys’s cheekbone again. Rhys meets his gaze, cautious. “You could never hurt me. You’re always so gentle.”
Sage lightly traces Rhys’s bottom lip with his thumb as Rhys’s eyes darken, his breath catching in his throat.
“When you do bite me,” Sage continues hesitantly, “will your bite turn me into a werewolf?”
“No,” Rhys says, swallowing. “It’s. . .a different type of bite. It won’t—won’t change you.”
Sage nods, a blush beginning to run down his neck. “Okay,” he says quietly. “Then I want you to bite me.” He leans down and gently presses their lips together before Rhys can respond, even as Rhys inhales sharply at his words.
Rhys’s hands grip him tighter as Sage shifts in his lap, his body taut and tense as Sage’s thighs bracket his waist. His breathing turns uneven, sporadic and heavy as their lips move together.
They’ve both been starved of each other’s bodies for far too long. Sage can feel that tether between them as it seems to pull him in closer into Rhys’s warmth, like a beacon to his heart, and he knows Rhys can feel it, too. Sage moves his good hand to tangle it in Rhys’s hair, his fingers beginning to tremble slightly as electricity from their kiss threatens to overwhelm him. He can feel how different everything is this time, how it’s so much more.
Rhys’s lips are soft and gentle against his, his tongue hot against Sage’s. He pulls away after a moment, his hands clenched into fists at Sage’s waist.
“Baby,” Rhys says heavily, his tone reproachful, like a warning, even as he struggles to catch his breath.
“Rhys. . .” Sage trails off quietly, leaning his forehead against Rhys’s.
“I’m afraid of what I could do to you,” Rhys admits, his voice so low that Sage can barely hear him.
“I’m not,” Sage replies, moving his bad hand up to gently stroke his fingers over Rhys’s jaw. Rhys inhales sharply, his eyes wild. “I’m not, Rhys.”
He leans in again, his lips pressing softly against Rhys’s throat. Rhys’s hands grip the tops of his thighs quickly, unconsciously, as Sage slowly trails his lips over Rhys’s pulse point. Rhys tilts his head back—another involuntary gesture—as a low groan rumbles in his chest. Heat erupts down Sage’s spine, his lips insistent as he bites down lightly against Rhys’s throat.
Rhys’s hands trail up the sides of Sage’s ribs slowly, the heat from his fingertips seeping through the cotton of Sage’s t-shirt. Sage shivers at his delicate touch, at the feel of Rhys underneath him like this after weeks of dancing around each other. Sage feels how Rhys’s body seems to tremble lightly, an unconscious shake as he tries to keep himself reined in.
Sage runs his lips down Rhys’s neck, biting down gently as he reaches Rhys’s collarbone. His angle is a little awkward, and he’s having trouble trying to keep himself balanced with only one hand buried in Rhys’s dark locks, but Rhys’s hands on him are steady, grounding Sage as he sucks a mark into Rhys’s neck. The mark disappears seconds later as Rhys makes a noise low in his throat, like a gasp, and Sage’s heart stutters in his chest at the sound of it.
“Sage,” Rhys continues, his voice thick, a little breathless. Sage wants to make him scream.
“Please,” Sage whispers against the skin beneath his mouth, tightening his fingers in Rhys’s hair. His own voice is heavy, his breath caught in his throat. He hasn’t felt Rhys’s hands on him in this way for weeks.
Sage can feel the way Rhys is holding himself back, conflicted as he exhales sharply. Hearing Sage beg for him has always been his undoing. Sage knows it, too.
“Baby—” Rhys repeats, and Sage pulls away from Rhys's collarbone so he can look up into Rhys’s eyes. The desire and lust burning in his beautiful gray irises as Sage meets his gaze makes Sage’s throat tighten.
“I know that you’re scared, Ree,” Sage says quietly against Rhys’s lips, pressing another kiss to the side of his mouth. “But your fears. . .they aren’t mine, baby. I want you.” He leans forward, catching Rhys’s lips between his own and bites down softly onto Rhys’s bottom lip. Rhys inhales sharply, and Sage pulls back, a blush on his cheeks as he repeats, “I want you to bite me.”
Rhys’s entire body shudders at Sage’s words, his breathing uneven again. He lifts his right hand up to gently cup Sage’s face, his feverish fingertips hot against Sage’s flushed skin.
“You drive me crazy,” Rhys whispers, taking a deep breath. “I can’t hold myself back, baby. Not with you. You’re too much of a temptation for me. If I start now, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop, Sage.”
“Then don’t,” Sage replies, breathless. Rhys tilts his head down to run his nose down Sage’s neck, inhaling deeply as he goes. “We can go slow. We’ll be careful. I trust you, Rhys. I know how gentle you are. No one touches me the way you do. I want you so bad.” Sage can’t help the way he trembles against Rhys, his body wrought with anticipation. Heat floods his veins at Rhys’s soft touch and his head is beginning to become hazy at the feel of Rhys’s lips against his skin. “Please, baby.”
He doesn’t mean for his words to come out as a breathless moan, an aching plea, but the effect on Rhys is immediate. His breath hitches, the muscles of his neck taut against Sage’s hand as he runs his mouth right below Sage’s ear.
“Sage. . .” Rhys whispers once more, shaking his head slowly, but it’s not a denial as his face, his lips, move back and forth across Sage’s throat, as his left hand slips under the bottom of Sage’s shirt to rub soothing circles against Sage’s bare skin, as the fingers of his right hand begin to entwine into Sage’s hair. It’s a surrender. When Sage begs for him, it completely unravels Rhys’s insides. It’s always been his greatest weakness. Heat coils sharply in Rhys's abdomen, and he just can’t stop himself anymore, can't bring himself to deny what both of their bodies crave. Not when Sage is begging for him like this. Not when he can feel how much Sage is aching for him.
Rhys’s fingers tighten in Sage's hair as he gently pulls Sage’s head to the side, kissing down the long line of Sage’s throat. Sage shifts his hips, his arousal thrumming hotly in his veins as he tilts his head back to follow Rhys’s movements. Rhys’s mouth on his throat isn’t soft anymore, insistent as he mouths at Sage's pale skin. He bites down lightly right below Sage’s ear, on that sensitive spot, and Sage’s breath stutters in his chest, his pulse echoing in his ears.
Sage feels hot all over, his blood pounding heavily through his veins, so hot and scorching. When Rhys kisses up his neck again, Sage turns toward him, his breaths heavy. Rhys moves slowly with his indecision, still clearly conflicted but desperately wanting to give into his desire, to both of their growing need for each other, and Sage twists his head until their lips meet.
There is a desperation behind Rhys’s lips as they move together. His mouth is hot and insistent as he kisses Sage, like he’s aching for it. His hands are everywhere; on Sage’s hips, in his hair, trailing down Sage’s sides. Sage locks both of his arms around Rhys’s neck, careful not to put too much pressure on his broken arm, and, suddenly, Rhys’s overheated skin is stifling against Sage’s as Sage trembles, so hot it feels as if Rhys is burning him. Every point of contact between them is charged—heady and jolting as Sage’s body shudders with the force of their yearning.
Sage opens his mouth to Rhys, his desire coiling in his stomach as he shifts his hips to move even closer to him. At once, he feels Rhys’s hardness against his own, and he moans deeply in his throat, his head growing dizzy from the feel of Rhys pressed so intimately against him.
The sound of his moan snaps whatever tether Rhys has on himself, and, immediately, his hands are gripping Sage’s thighs again, and Rhys easily scoops him up into his arms in one smooth movement, so gentle and soft and careful.
Rhys deepens their kiss, and Sage wraps his legs around Rhys’s waist, holding him closer. Both of his hands find their way to Rhys’s jaw, and he moves them hastily into Rhys’s hair as Rhys tea
rs his lips from Sage’s mouth to devour Sage's neck, where he drags his teeth and tongue down Sage’s throat as he turns towards the hallway.
Within a split second, Rhys is gently laying Sage down onto their bed, moving so preternaturally fast that Sage’s brain is too slow to keep up with his movements. Rhys slides his hands underneath Sage’s t-shirt and moves them up to rub both of his thumbs over Sage’s chest. Sage arches into the touch, moaning, and Rhys growls hotly as he abruptly rips Sage’s shirt down the middle, pulling the shredded scraps of the cotton off of Sage’s chest with a low noise.
Rhys leans back as he throws Sage’s ruined shirt behind his shoulder, taking a moment to run his eyes over Sage’s chest, both of them naked from the waist up now. The look on his face sends a thrill down Sage’s spine. Rhys is looking at him like he’s going to devour him. His gray eyes are full of heat and his cherry red mouth is swollen from Sage’s lips. His cheeks are dark red, flushed from the heat of his own arousal. Sage’s dog tags around his neck rise and fall with every heavy inhale and exhale, clinking softly as the metal grazes each other. His skin looks so smooth that it could be carved from marble. His muscles are pulled taut against the skin of his arms, bulging attractively as he runs his hands over Sage’s abdomen. He looks so incredibly gorgeous as he gazes down at Sage, so incredibly beautiful that nothing on this earth could ever compare to how he looks right now. He’s at once the night sky and the moon, so dark and alluring. He’s the setting sun and the embers of a dying fire, burning so bright and hot. He’s everything Sage could ever want; all he could ever need.
Sage understands then, how Rhys feels—why he’ll never want anyone the way he wants Sage, why he’ll never love anyone the way that he loves Sage. It’s the same for him, too. Rhys is alive in his heart, a space carved between the lines of Sage’s body that belongs solely to Rhys. He’s the air in Sage’s lungs. He’s the blood in Sage’s veins. And Sage wants him so badly, so desperately, that he can hardly wait one second more as the weight of his desire settles deep into his soul.
Sage reaches down and grabs Rhys’s wrist, impatient as Rhys’s eyes roam over his body, and tugs lightly. Rhys moves quickly, effortlessly climbing on top of him. He’s so incredibly careful as he climbs on top of Sage, cautious of his broken arm, of his still healing body. Sage lifts his good hand up to run his thumb over Rhys’s lips again, breathing heavily at Rhys’s heated gaze. The look Rhys is giving him sets his entire body alight.
Rhys’s lips find his again, and the fire in Sage’s veins burns as their lips collide. He moans into Rhys’s mouth as Rhys runs his tongue over Sage’s. He pants as Rhys presses his hips down, moving his body sinuously as he brings their pelvises together. He gasps brokenly when Rhys growls into his mouth and bites down on his bottom lip, a hint of a whimper reverberating through his lungs. He swallows Rhys’s groans when he runs his good hand down Rhys’s back and grips his ass, wrapping his bad arm around Rhys’s neck as he digs his fingers in and pulls.
Sage’s brain completely fizzles out when Rhys leans away from his lips and lowers his mouth down, sucking as he flicks his tongue out to lick over Sage’s chest. Sage plunges the fingers of his good hand into Rhys’s hair, a broken groan escaping him as Rhys’s lips trails across his skin. All he can think about is the feel of Rhys’s tongue as Rhys moves onto the other side of his chest, his hands running over Sage’s skin haphazardly, as if he can’t figure out where he wants to touch the most.
Rhys pushes his hips down again, unable to hold back his own arousal as he moans. Sage moves his hand down to Rhys’s waistband, desperate to feel his bare skin. He tries to hook his hand in, but his fingers are shaky and unsteady, and Rhys is moving against him so sensually, every touch igniting Sage’s insides, that Sage is having trouble focusing through his haze of desire to get his fingers where he wants them. He grips Rhys’s hip, digging his fingers in impatiently, but Rhys doesn’t move on top of him, just growls lowly as he brings his mouth up to crash into Sage’s once more.
The bare skin of Rhys’s chest is hot against his, and Sage moves his hand to grip Rhys’s face, to run his fingers up through Rhys’s hair as he pants. Rhys’s hands find his waist, and Sage can’t help but to thrust up into him as Rhys sinks his thumbs into Sage’s shorts and quickly pulls them off, a contrast to how he’d ripped Sage’s shirt off only moments ago. But now Sage is completely bare, completely open. And Rhys’s mouth runs dry as he rubs his thumbs into Sage’s hipbones.
They’re both incredibly worked up now. Sage is aching beneath Rhys, his want heavy in his heart. He feels as if he’s burning from the inside out with his desire for Rhys, for Rhys’s hands on him, to feel Rhys pressed deep inside of him. He’s trembling against Rhys’s chest, completely at his mercy as his shaft throbs against Rhys’s, still clothed in his own shorts.
“So beautiful,” Rhys whispers, his voice completely shot as his eyes trail over Sage. “Look at you, baby. You’re absolutely stunning.”
Sage makes a noise low in his throat, panting heavily as Rhys rubs his hands over Sage’s thighs soothingly. Rhys’s grin is absolutely sinful as he meets Sage’s eyes.
“Okay, baby?” Rhys asks him after a few seconds pass, genuine despite the heat in his eyes and the slight thickness of his voice. He’s probably worried that Sage is going to work himself up too much, but Sage wants this. He doesn’t want Rhys to stop. Words aren’t coming to him right now, though, and all he can do is nod as Rhys leans forward and presses a sweet kiss to his mouth.
Rhys pulls away a moment later, moving to work his way down. He grips Sage’s thighs as he kisses down Sage’s chest, slowly spreading Sage’s legs apart even further. He bites over Sage’s abs, sucking marks over every inch of Sage’s abdomen. Sage pants below him, writhing against Rhys’s mouth. Rhys settles his face between Sage’s legs, and Sage’s breath hitches in his throat when Rhys gazes up into his eyes and presses a kiss to the inside of his right thigh. Sage’s entire body thrums with anticipation. The glint in Rhys’s eyes makes Sage's heart race.
He gasps as Rhys hooks his hands below his thighs to move Sage’s legs over his shoulders, his face pressed in close to Sage’s center. Rhys’s breath lightly caresses his skin, and Sage shutters as he twitches at the feel of it. Sage can’t help but whimper as Rhys leans forward and presses a light kiss right above his center. Rhys growls again at the sound of Sage’s whimper, his eyes briefly bleeding that fluorescent red before he brings both of his hands up to cup over Sage’s ass.
The first feel of Rhys’s tongue on him makes Sage’s entire body erupt in molten fire, and he tilts his head back and moans brokenly as Rhys licks over him like he’s desperate for it.
Rhys growls approvingly at Sage’s moan, at his taste, and unleashes himself completely.
His tongue slides over Sage in great sweeping strokes that make Sage’s throat constrict tightly as heat pools between his thighs. He groans hotly as he buries the fingers of his good hand into Rhys’s hair, arching his back when Rhys delves his tongue in deep and growls appreciatively.
Rhys circles Sage with his tongue slowly, then flicks it over Sage’s center again as his now normal gray eyes flicker up to watch Sage’s face. Sage bites down on his bottom lip and whimpers again, throwing his head back as he pants and tries not to fall apart. He squeezes his eyes shut tightly as wave after wave of arousal washes over him, his heart stammering in his chest as he shakes.
“Rhys,” he moans brokenly, and when he looks down again, Rhys’s eyes are Alpha red once more, illuminating brightly in the setting sun of the evening. He looks obscene between Sage’s legs, his eyes never leaving Sage’s face.
Sage blushes under Rhys’s scrutinizing gaze, overcome with desire as Rhys’s piercing red eyes seem to tear right through him, as if Rhys is looking right into Sage’s heart, into his soul. He twitches against his abdomen as evidence of his arousal leaks onto his stomach, over the bruises left by Rhys’s lips. Rhys’s mouth doesn’t relent as he continues his onslaught over Sage, and S
age immediately feels himself start to clench up around Rhys's tongue, and he exhales a soft whine.
“Please,” Sage begs, not quite sure what he’s even asking for. He moans again, overcome with desire. “Rhys.”
Rhys sucks on him deeply, and Sage moans, then gasps when Rhys darts the tip of his tongue against him, drawing thick circles and figure eights, then thrusts his tongue in and out quickly. Sage writhes below him, desperately moaning and panting as he tightens his fingers in Rhys’s hair, not enough to hurt, but so that he can try to hold on as he shatters, completely overwhelmed.
Rhys is groaning below him, making hot little noises as he draws Sage to the edge. His eyes are blown wide with desire as his hands grip Sage’s thighs so gently that Sage feels his heart ache in his chest at the soft way Rhys is touching him. Rhys moans every time Sage thrusts his hips down needily, silently begging for more.
Sage feels like Rhys is unraveling him, taking him completely apart until he’s laid bare, open and so, so vulnerable. Heat courses down his spine again, and he’s so overcome with desire that he can’t even think about anything anymore besides Rhys’s mouth, about how much he never wants Rhys to stop.
Sage’s arousal pushes steadfast in his veins as the heat coiling in his abdomen lurches, and he clenches around Rhys’s tongue again. “Rhys,” he says breathlessly, his entire body shuddering when Rhys growls lowly in response. “Rhys,” he repeats, then tilts his head back as arousal thrums through him, whimpering low in his throat as he completely shatters.
Rhys pulls away from him after a moment, and Sage moans wantonly when he sees the spit on Rhys’s chin and the way Rhys is straining against his own shorts. Sage feels a little lightheaded as he pants heavily, and he inhales deeply to try to calm himself down. Rhys is making him feel so unhinged.