When Corin pulled back enough to suck his sore and swollen lower lip, a shock of pain shot down through him, melting every joint and bone along the way and lodging right between his legs.
If he hadn’t been inescapably crushed against Corin’s chest he’d have slid to the floor. But he didn’t need to hold himself up, and so he wriggled closer to that wall of heat, rutting his half-hard cock against a very hard thigh.
Oh, he’d never been kissed like this, never had his lips bitten and his tongue sucked, his mouth so thoroughly explored.
And then Corin wrenched his mouth away.
Aster blinked up at him, shocked by the sudden chill of the air on his lips.
Their eyes met, Corin’s black slits of pupil on black: not remotely human, and too mesmerizing to escape.
Reality seeped back in, though, starting to reform around him in bits and pieces. His hands had landed on Corin’s chest. A faint tracery of scales and a dusting of hair roughened the skin under his palms. A chilly draft rattled the shutters gently and brushed over his burning cheeks. And Corin’s arms around him felt like the most solid thing in the world.
Corin’s cock nudging into his stomach wasn’t far behind in terms of solidity, now that he noticed.
“Why did you stop?” The words came out before he could think them through. God, he sounded pathetic. But he didn’t understand. That kiss hadn’t been lukewarm at all; Aster still couldn’t get a full breath. And if Corin wanted him again, why hadn’t he kept going?
“It’s not—fuck,” Corin said roughly, a frown furrowing his brow.
“Exactly,” Aster said. “It isn’t. If you stop, it definitely isn’t.”
Oh, God. That hadn’t been smooth, or sultry, or seductive, or anything resembling sophisticated. If he needed an applicable word that started with S, he’d be going with shameless, actually. And possibly stupid.
Could he still be drunk after all? He’d only managed half a cup of that wine before he spilled it all over himself.
Corin’s frown deepened. “I thought you’d sobered up.” His accusing tone rankled, but—how the fuck…?
“Are you reading my mind? Tell me the truth. Do dragons read minds?”
Corin glowered at him. “No, of course we don’t, that’s—are you drunk or aren’t you?”
“You didn’t take advantage of me, if that’s what you’re asking.” Aster’s cheeks burned. He managed to choke out, “I wanted every bit of that. And I’m completely rational.”
Corin simply stared down at him without answering, something measuring in his eyes. Aster wanted to close his own, or hide, or squirm…actually, he could squirm, and he did, getting a little more friction on his cock, even though it wasn’t the most comfortable with the wet fabric in the way. Holding Corin’s gaze while he rode his thigh had him panting for air in seconds, heart pounding, everything between his legs aching.
Those iron arms tightened around him until he could practically hear his ribs creaking with the strain.
But he didn’t look away, didn’t stop, couldn’t stop, rubbing himself up and down and straining to spread his legs further in the constriction of his pants, his bollocks catching a little painfully and only making it better, and then he found that if he tilted his hips he could almost get the pressure of Corin’s leg on his hole.
Almost.
God, he was like a cat in heat.
It made it all the more humiliating that Corin hadn’t moved. His expression hadn’t changed.
But his cock pressed into Aster’s belly now, fully hard again, and he hadn’t loosened his grip.
“I really did sleep it off,” Aster whispered. Although it seemed like the horse had really left the barn on that one even if he’d been twice as drunk as before. “Why did you stop?”
For a long moment Aster thought he wouldn’t get an answer.
And then Corin said abruptly, “It’d be wrong, and we both know it. I stopped because we need to stop. I lost control. It won’t happen again.”
Except that he was still holding Aster so tightly it felt like he’d never let him go, and they were both fully erect.
“If I’m not drunk, then there’s nothing wrong—”
“You’re her brother,” Corin gritted out, his teeth clenched. “I’m not—this isn’t honest.”
