Page 117 of Green Ravens
He and Zorion hesitated for a couple of seconds before they both nodded.
“On the second level are the decompression chambers and shower rooms.” Ren pointed back the way they’d come. “You two can go there and get changed and meet Jo and the others for debriefing.”
“Decompression chambers?” Valor frowned. “In case what…we have a terrorist we chase a thousand feet below sea level.”
Ren smirked. “It’s just what Jo called it. That’s the area you can go to after missions to unload your battle gear, shower, and so forth. It’s pretty darn cool in there.” Ren blushed. “I helped Dr. Santana with the design. I hope you two like it.”
Valor and Zorion stepped into the locker room and the chaos of the outside died away.
Soundproof. Nice.
Valor needed this moment away from the orders, bloodshed, and weapons.
They peeled off their clothes in silence.
Ripped fabric fell to the floor. Burned edges, bloodstains, gunpowder smears—every piece shucked carried remnants of the war they’d just fought…and won.
Naked, they stood in front of each other, the low light tracing muscles chiseled by training, marred by scars, made animal-like by DNA that wasn’t their own.
Zorion’s breath hitched when their eyes met. “Still standing,” he said, his voice gravelly and dripping with heat.
Valor closed the distance until their chests touched, the air between them growing hot and electric.
Without another word, he walked them backward into the shower, steam curling around them like fog on a field at dawn. Water cascaded over them in thick, hot sheets from the overhead jets.
The instant the almost scalding water hit his skin, he groaned, not from pain, but release.
The heat soaked into his bones, drawing out the tension and rage he’d harnessed during the fight.
Valor reached for Zorion.
He pressed him back to the tiled wall.
He touched his cherished everywhere, tracing along his collarbone, across his firm pecs, and down the ridges of his abdomen.
He moved slowly, deliberately, like he was memorizing him all over again.
He dragged his lips down wet skin, tasting salt, soap, and primal power.
Valor gripped Zorion’s jaw and guided his face up until he met his soft green eyes. He captured his mouth in a kiss that was anything but gentle.
They collided with hunger, and as their lips parted, Valor slid his tongue inside. It was authority, surrender, worship, and wildness, all tangled into breathless gasps and long groans.
Zorion spun them and sank to his knees. A sensual energy surged through him at seeing his man in such a submissive posture.
Zorion dug his thumbs into Valor’s hips, trailing kisses along his groin until his pretty lips wrapped around the base of his shaft.
“Fuck, Rio.”
Zorion’s name became a low moan that got lost in the steam.
Wet slickness slid over his cockhead and up and down his length in a way that made his spine lock. He dropped his head back until it hit the wall and exhaled a ragged breath at how fast his orgasm was cresting.
Zorion sucked hard on the head of his cock as he gazed up at him with eyes so full of desire.
Valor wove his hands into Zorion’s long white-blond hair.
The moment swelled, intimate and pressing.
