by Kim Dare
“Picking up some extra cash?” Arslan asked.
The blood drained out of Ryland’s face.
“Sit!” Arslan ordered.
Ryland just stared back at him as if he’d seen a ghost.
Arslan stood up, caught hold of both Ryland’s elbows and guided him onto his chair behind the desk. Taking the pile of marking out of his arms, he put them on the visitor’s chair, out of the way.
“I…”
Arslan placed his hand to Ryland’s forehead. Cold for a lion meant normal for a human. There was no fever, but he didn’t know enough about humans to be sure that meant all was actually well. “Are you ill?”
Ryland stared at him. It was several seconds before he seemed to snap back into reality. He dropped his gaze. A blush rushed to his cheeks, making him look both far healthier as well as more than a little embarrassed. Even so, he still looked exhausted.
“Do you really think you should be looking for more work?” Arslan asked. Not that there could be any real debate about the answer. A lion might be able to work all the hours God sent without feeling too many ill effects from it. A human couldn’t. That was why they needed lions to look after them.
Ryland followed his gaze to the pile of marking. His blush deepened, but he seemed to relax a little. “I’m fine, sir.”
Arslan wasn’t convinced. His pet didn’t look fine. He didn’t feel fine. He was on edge and struggling to cope. Not acceptable.
“I just didn’t expect you to be here, sir,” Ryland offered. “I…”
Arslan straightened up from his crouch at Ryland’s feet, hoping that putting some slight distance between them might help him to keep his fingers to himself when he itched to run his hands over the other man’s body, just in case the pain in his eyes was caused by wounds he couldn’t see.
“Do you want some tea?” Ryland rushed out. He glanced at the cold cup on the desk. “I’ll make you a fresh cup.” He stood up, obviously about to go and do just that.
Arslan put his hand on his shoulder and nudged him back into the chair. It took all his strength of will to take his hand back as soon as the task was accomplished.
“I wasn’t asking you to leave,” Ryland rushed out, rising to his feet again the moment the professor broke contact with him.
Arslan studied him carefully as he saw a pet’s need to be close to his master shining bright in the younger man’s eyes. “I wasn’t leaving.”
Ryland nodded. He looked relieved. Arslan stared down at him, wondering how much of a fool he was for still being glad of that. It wasn’t the quick understanding he might have hoped for, but seeing that the instincts were there, even if Ryland didn’t recognize them properly, was still something.
Stepping back, Arslan put a little bit more space between them, but there wasn’t much further he could go without walking into an overstuffed bookcase or one of the piles of books that Ryland hadn’t managed to fit on any of the shelves.
And no matter how far he went, the tiny room was still full of Ryland’s presence. It was impossible not to be aware of every nuance of his emotions. The room swirled with his nerves and his uncertainty. Looking away from his pet, trying to clear his head, Arslan ran his fingers down the edge of Ryland’s folder full of history essays. He wasn’t a natural historian, but the effort he’d put into each of the essays was obvious. He’d even managed to make his handwriting quite legible.
Arslan looked up just in time to see Ryland’s gaze follow his to the history essays.
“Someone said that you don’t let people attend your lectures if they’re not prepared to learn. I thought you might throw me out if I didn’t,” Ryland whispered.
“You never handed them in.”
“You never threatened the throw me out,” Ryland said, his eyes still lowered to stare at the folder.
Arslan smiled at the logic.
“Professor?”
“Yes?”
Do you want a blowjob?
The words hovered on Ryland’s lips, but he didn’t quite have the balls to say them. He looked up and caught Arslan’s eye, but he couldn’t hold his gaze for more than a few seconds. His attention dropped back to Arslan’s crotch.
He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He considered the merits of just dropping to his knees and not bothering with small talk. That would make everything very clear, wouldn’t it? If he could just skip every part of the process that involved speech, he wouldn’t need to feel guilty for speaking to the other man without telling him the whole truth right away.
His knees almost took over the entire decision making process and buckled of their own volition. Ryland put his hand on the desk to steady himself. He closed his eyes, but that did more harm than good. He could so easily picture himself on his knees in front of Arslan, his lips wrapped around his cock, his tongue flicking over the head as he stole a taste of him and discovered whether or not a lion tasted the same as a human.
“Ryland?”
He opened his eyes. The floor in front of Arslan’s feet remained empty. Ryland took a step forward, but he didn’t dare drop to his knees without an invitation. Swallowing rapidly, he frantically tried to work some moisture into his throat so he could force a word or two out.
“Sir?” He sounded impossibly calm considering the situation.
“Yes?”
“If you found out that…” Ryland looked up and his courage deserted him. He couldn’t tell him why he’d been there. He couldn’t watch the expression in his lover’s eyes change as he realized what he was, what he’d made himself that night—he remembered that seeing that change in someone’s eyes before. Never again.
Ryland once more took refuge in the darkness behind his eyelids. It took him a lifetime to pull himself together enough to think of another ending to his sentence. “If the same man were thrown to the lions twice, would you be disappointed, sir?”
Arslan didn’t say anything for so long, Ryland had to look up and find out the worse.
“No,” the older man said very softly. “I wouldn’t be disappointed.” Reaching out, he pushed Ryland’s hair back from his face.
The younger man let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He nodded his understanding, careful not to dislodge the hand that settled in his hair. His gaze settled on the lion’s mouth. His tongue snuck out to moisten his own lips in invitation.
“Do you remember your human word?” Arslan asked.
Ryland stared up at him in confusion for a moment, before he caught up. “The safe word?”
“Yes,” Arslan said slowly. “I expect that’s what humans call it.”
“I don’t want to say no to you.”
Arslan smiled and stroked his fingers down his cheek, stroking the blush that Ryland knew still lingered there. Remembering what he’d seen the other lions do at the house, he butted his head gently against Arslan’s shoulder.
Arslan slid his fingers under his chin and tilted his head back. Before Ryland had a chance to worry over the very real possibility that he’d made a fool out of himself, Arslan’s lips covered his. His tongue demanded entry. Ryland grabbed at the larger man’s shoulders as his head spun in relief.
There could be no doubt over the intention behind the kiss. Arslan took complete possession of his mouth. Rough and demanding at first, as soon as Ryland was thoroughly out of his depth, the other man’s mouth gentled against his. The surface of his tongue was still rough, but his lips became the softest thing Ryland had ever known, as the older man guided him to kiss him back and coaxed him to bring his own tongue out to play.
Something hard pressed against his back. When Arslan broke the kiss, Ryland looked around to find that he had been walked backwards a few steps. They’d reached a bookcase He was effectively pinned in the corner.
There wasn’t much room, but he began to lower himself to his knees anyway. Logic suggested he was making a huge mistake, but suddenly the only important thing was that he do something for the other man for free. If he did someth
ing for free, he’d become something slightly closer to the man the professor thought he was inviting into his pride.
Arslan caught hold of his arm and stopped him short.
“Let me, sir?” Ryland blurted out, hoping like hell Arslan wouldn’t ask him why it was so vital that he be allowed to go down on him.
The lion studied him for a moment before he let go of his arm and nodded his permission. Ryland dropped heavily to his knees on the bare floorboards. At least from his new vantage point, there was no need to worry about whether or not Arslan was enthusiastic about the idea or merely humoring him.
The professor was hard, straining against his fly. Ryland reached for the zip and drew it carefully down. He hesitated for a second, wondering how much less history he’d have learned over the last few months if he’d known that the professor was going commando during his lectures.
The other man’s cock curved enthusiastically up towards his stomach as Ryland freed it from the fabric. He glanced up at the professor as he ran his fingers along the length of his shaft. The shifter’s skin was hot to the touch. It hadn’t been Ryland’s imagination or the fire burning next to the rug clouding his memories and making him think that.
It wasn’t a huge amount of evidence to support the fact that he wasn’t actually losing his mind, but right then it was enough to convince Ryland that everything he remembered about that night in the lions’ den was accurate. The perfection he’d felt there had been real, and it was there waiting for him, once he sorted out the mess he’d made of things.
Steadying the shaft with his fingers, Ryland leaned forward and wrapped his lips around the head. Pre-cum leaked into his mouth as he rubbed his tongue against the glans, stealing his first taste of his lover. A moment later, Ryland murmured his pleasure around the other man’s cock. Arslan was hot in his mouth. He was saltier than a human, and he was perfect.
The thick shaft stretched his lips, turning them into a thin pink line as he sealed them tightly around satiny smooth skin. Desperate to please, he swirled his tongue rapidly around the tip of Arslan’s cock in a complex little maneuver it had taken him months to master when he first came out of the closet.
Arslan stared down at him, attentive but entirely calm. Ryland didn’t truly believe he was God’s gift to every man he got down on his knees for, but he’d thought he was pretty good—good enough to make a man moan and jerk his hips if not throw back his head and scream.
The professor stroked his fingers through his hair and offered him an encouraging little smile as their eyes met. Ryland dropped his gaze. Polite and patient wasn’t quite the reaction he’d been hoping for.
All at once, he found himself wondering if it was far easier to make a man scream than it was to make a lion roar. Worse still, what if lions didn’t suck each other off? What if that was just a human thing? What if Arslan had no idea why he was even down on his knees in the first place?
Ryland rubbed his tongue back and forth across the head of Arslan’s cock as he frantically tried to convince himself that he hadn’t made the worst mistake of his life by damn near begging to be allowed to do this without knowing what he was really doing with a lion, before he’d even thought to find out what lions did with each other.
Closing his eyes, Ryland tried to keep some sort of grip on reality. It wasn’t easy when so many unfamiliar thoughts and ideas kept creeping around the edges of his mind, only to rush off when he tried to study them. All he knew for sure was, this had to go right.
It had to, because he was doing it for free, and he’d really screwed up everything last time he was with him. And if he screwed everything up all over again, even when he was doing it for free, it wouldn’t matter if Arslan would let him be thrown back to the lions once he had it all sorted out, because by then, the professor would have probably given up on him and—
Arslan gasped. The hand resting on the back of Ryland’s head tightened its grip on his hair. Ryland glanced up at him as he scrambled to repeat his last action. Lapping delicately at the head produced another gasp.
Pulling back, Ryland let the shaft slip from between his lips before quickly leaning back in and flicking his tongue lightly against the tip. He stared up at the older man, hope shining bright in his eyes.
Arslan didn’t meet his gaze. The lion’s eyes had dropped closed. He made a noise in the back of his throat. Ryland didn’t know what to call it. It fell half way between a purr and a quiet roar. It was also the single most erotic noise he’d ever heard. Right there and then, he promised himself that he was going to spend a substantial part of the rest of his life making sure he heard it as often as possible.
“That’s right, pet.” Arslan blinked his eyes open and stared down at him. His gaze seemed to feast on the sight of his licking tongue as if it was the most amazing thing he had ever seen in his life.
Ryland felt something settle inside him. Arslan was different to a human. That meant he had to learn. It didn’t mean he couldn’t please his lover if he learned quickly enough. The professor liked people who were willing to learn. Everything was fine. He was with Arslan, and everything would be fine now.
“Good,” Arslan rasped.
Ryland whimpered his pleasure at the praise and set about learning everything there was to know about the other man’s cock. It didn’t take him long to discover that running his tongue all the way along the underside of the shaft and up over the glans produced the best reaction.
Arslan gasped. A low moan escaped from the back of his throat. It wasn’t exactly the screaming Ryland had secretly been hoping for, but he was willing to believe it was probably the equivalent of an ear splitting Halleluiah from a man with less control of his emotions than Arslan.
The hand on the back of his head cradled him close as he continued to explore the lion with his lips and tongue, doing everything he could to please the other man as he kissed and licked.
When the hands buried in his hair guided him back to the tip of Arslan’s cock and encouraged him closer, Ryland gave control of everything over to the lion without hesitation. As he opened his mouth and let Arslan guide his cock between his lips, he looked up.
Arslan stared straight into his eyes and Ryland found he was trapped by his gaze. The lion didn’t say a word, but Ryland saw the possession flaring in his expression. He’d never felt more like he belonged to someone. He’d never known it was possible to feel so right in his skin, to feel as if he was exactly where he should be.
For all its perfection, it was also too much, too intense. He tore his gaze away and let his eyes drop closed.
“Look at me.”
It was an order. Ryland obeyed it. He looked back to the professor.
A slight tightening of Arslan’s hands in his hair was his only warning before the lion’s hips thrust forward and he buried himself deeper within Ryland’s mouth as he came.
The moment Ryland tried to pull away, Arslan’s grip on his hair relaxed, allowing him to retreat as far as he wished. Ryland leaned back just far enough to catch Arslan’s taste on his tongue. He looked back up to his lover in time to see the pleasure flood into the professor’s eyes as the other man seemed to realize that he didn’t want to avoid swallowing as much as he wanted the chance to taste him properly.
Arslan rocked his hips slightly, making a series of shallow thrusts into his mouth, as if he was unable to fall completely still as he came, no matter how hard he tried. His breaths were uneven, a strand of hair had escaped from the tight tie holding the mass of hair back from his face. For the first time, Ryland saw the professor not perfectly calm, composed and in charge of the world, and he was glorious.
As Arslan fell still and his shaft began to soften in his mouth, Ryland forced himself to pull away and let the older man’s cock slip from between his lips. He reached out to straighten the professor’s clothes, but his hands shook so badly he couldn’t manage to do up his fly.
When the lion politely moved Ryland’s hands aside to finish the job himself, Ryland didn’t ob
ject. He let Arslan take over and didn’t even have it in him to feel embarrassed about his clumsiness. Sitting back on his heels, he put all his effort into not reaching for his own fly.
Give without thought of what you might receive in return.
Getting off himself wasn’t part of the plan. It wasn’t important in the grand scheme of things—every bit of him, bar his cock, agreed with his assessment of the situation.
Arslan held out his hand. Ryland reached out to him in return. A second later, he was up on his feet, standing before the other man.
The lion’s lips covered his as if they’d been kissing each other forever. As Arslan’s tongue dipped into his mouth to taste, his hand slid down Ryland’s body and cupped his cock through his trousers. Whimpering, Ryland pushed himself helplessly against the other man’s palm.
A second later, Arslan took his hand away as suddenly as he offered it. Ryland shook his head. Pulling away from the kiss, he began to stutter his plea for both Arslan’s hand to be returned and for the older man to understand that he wasn’t whoring himself out for a hand job, he just really needed his hand back there so badly and—
He didn’t get more than two or three words out.
“Hush.”
Ryland obediently hushed. He just stared up at the taller man and prayed.
“Hush, pet,” Arslan whispered again.
The hand that had left Ryland’s cock undid the button at the top of his fly and slid the zipper down. Ryland held his breath as deft fingers pushed denim and cotton boxers aside, and wrapped themselves snugly around his shaft.
Ryland dropped his head forward onto Arslan’s shoulder as his mind spun. The professor’s hand was hot, the palm rough against his erection. There was no inter-species learning curve—Arslan obviously already knew everything there was to know about how a human man craved to be touched.
“Please don’t stop, sir,” Ryland whispered. A few strokes would be all he needed. He knew he’d be embarrassed to look back on that fact later, but right then, the only important thing was for the other man not to take away his touch before he came.