“I wasn’t sleeping.” Nick was lying on his stomach facing the wall. “I can’t sleep when you’re not in the room, remember? Unless I’m drugged.”
Weight dipped down the mattress at Nick’s hip. He hadn’t made any effort to look at Kit, but Kit was making an effort tobe seen. He leaned over Nick until his face was in view, strands of dark silky hair slipping down over his cheeks. A hand rested on the mattress next to Nick’s head. The other was on his pillow. It should have felt threatening to have an exposed and injured back with the one who did it looming over him. It didn’t.
“Do not say such things,” Kit whispered.
Nick’s anger blossomed anew. “Did you seriously come back in here to fight again?”
“She’ll cut your throat,” Kit warned. “The second she thinks you can’t fulfil your purpose, she’ll kill you. You’ve injured her twice. You’ve humiliated hertwice. She won’t care who you’re related to. It’s only because you have the symbol we need that we were able to stop her.”
Nick rolled onto his back. Kit didn’t stop him. “And what happens when we reach Aridia, and I still can’t do whatever it is you took me for?”
A hopeless look slid across Kit’s face, but Nick recalled that he’d purposefully walked him through the docks during the busy midday so that he’d be seen. So that word could reach whoever was looking for Nick. Despite Kit’s warning, relief shivered through Nick. Kit was acknowledging it, even if it was only a whisper. Even if it was only between the two of them.
“I’ll escape before then.”
If Nick heard someone got kidnapped and then told their kidnapper that they intended to escape, Nick would call them an idiot. Beyond an idiot, actually—he’d call them suicidal. But Nick wasn’t telling his kidnapper; he was telling Kit.
Nick watched the hopelessness leave Kit’s eyes. “You are very clever,” he said softly. “And very brave. You will succeed.”
Nick wondered how much Kit was having to wrangle down his fear to speak like this to him. Kit was endangering himself. Nick could tell about his defiance. He could offer the knowledge of it to Desre, worse than a death sentence. Kit washanding over power, and Nick knew that Kit was far too aware of power dynamics to think he had done it unknowingly. He wanted Nick to see that he was sorry. He wanted to prove it.
“Kit,” Nick breathed out. He couldn’t stand the vulnerability.
Kit shivered.
“Do you want to scent-mark me?” Nick asked.
Kit dove in, a desperate hum bursting free that vibrated his entire chest with the force of it. He dug his cheek against Nick’s, hot breaths and tongue warming his jaw, his cheek, his chin, his lip. He shifted his weight to an elbow planted into the mattress next to Nick’s head. Kit’s tail whipped excitedly through the air before latching on to Nick’s thigh, curling around and around.
Nick hesitantly put his hands on Kit’s sides, above his shirt. Kit tensed at the touch; his purring faltered, but before Nick could retreat, Kit recovered. He buried his face in Nick’s neck, his musk heavy, heady, settling over Nick like a blanket of safety. Kit’s tension melted away as he thoroughly doused Nick in an ochre musk that would probably send Mini diving into the river if he smelled it. When Kit finally pulled away, eyes half-lidded, his crystal-blue eyes were so relaxed he looked sedated.
Nick wondered exactly what the scenting meant to Kit. He clearly got something psychologically out of it for him to relax so much. And it didn’t seem to be just physical relaxation—it helped with mental ease too.
Kit’s gaze roamed over Nick’s face, and he shifted his weight up, bracketing Nick’s head between his arms as he began to lazily scent-mark Nick’s face. Nick’s nose crinkled. Kit’s tongue found those folds and paid them special attention.
“Kit,” Nick objected. “Something about the moist feeling on my face is just, I don’t want to compare you to a dog, but –”
Kit’s tail tightened on Nick’s thigh. His purr became a rumbling growl.
“But it feels like I’m being licked by a –”
Kit’s tongue swiped over his bottom lip. Nick’s eyes slid shut.
“By a –”
It curved under his top lip.
Nick’s grip on Kit tightened. “A –”
His tongue slid between the seam of Nick’s lips. With a shudder, Nick kissed him back. Kit’s growl grew louder, the vibration of his chest shaking through Nick. Nick groaned as their tongues tangled in his mouth. Kit’s hand slid across Nick’s chest, travelling down and down until he was cupping the front of Nick’s trousers. Kit’s breath caught, breaking the kiss as he looked down at Nick’s body. He made a worried sound in his throat. “You are unhappy? You invited me, yet—have you changed your mind?”
“I think it’s the painkillers,” Nick admitted. The fact that his cock hadn’t so much as twitched when Kit’s lips were parted against his throat was telling.
“Ah. I see. Perhaps—your back,” Kit hissed, abruptly jerking away from Nick. “Get on your stomach.”
Nick hadn’t reacted, but Kit’s reaction strained against his trousers. Leather, Nick considered, had its perks.
Kit covered himself with a hand, flushing. “You look so brazenly.”
