Page 83 of House of Crimson Cloak and Silver Teeth

“What—”

He gives me another tug and squeeze. It draws the remaining air in my lungs.

“The thought of getting caught really does it for you, doesn’t it?” His voice drops lower, teasing. “You got harder.”

He strokes me once to prove his point. “I felt it. The second you thought about being seen, your cock practically jumped in my hand.”

Heat floods my face. “That’s not… I’m not—”

“Nasty little Wolf.” He smirks and strokes once slowly from root to tip.

A gasp tears from my throat. My head tilts back against the tree. His hand moves again. Once, slowly. Twice, with more pressure.

“Why are you doing this to me?” The question comes out strangled and desperate.

“Isn’t it obvious?” His voice softens slightly. “Because I like you.”

His thumb swipes over the head of my cock, gathering the wetness already leaking there. He uses it to slick his palm, making the next stroke smooth. “I really like you.”

I’m already so hard it hurts. My hands are still on his chest but I’ve stopped pushing. I’m gripping his tunic instead, holding on.

“Stop fighting so much,” he murmurs against my throat.

I want to keep resisting. This is insane. I’m supposed to be protecting him. But then I remember. All those nights lying awake in my room, knowing he was just on the other side of that connecting door. Imagining what it would feel like to cross that threshold. To let him touch me like this.

The mornings watching him train, sweat-slicked and powerful, and having to look away before he caught me staring. Every stolen glance, every accidental touch that feels like a brand. I realize I’ve been wanting this.

I’ve been wanting him.

“Take my cock out, Wolf.” The order comes out dark, patient.

I still for a second.

I’ve pictured this in the dark, in the shower. He’s giving me permission to stop pretending. Finally, I’m allowed to want what I’ve been denying.

I drop my shaky hands from his shirt down to his waist. My fingers fumble with the laces of his breeches.

The knots resist at first but I force myself to focus. They slowly loosen and I pause, hands frozen at his waistband.

“It’s alright,” Garrett says quietly. His free hand comes up to cup my jaw. “You’re doing fine.”

I pull the fabric down. His cock springs free, thick and hard. I swallow hard at the sight of it. I had this in my mouth earlier and took it down my throat. The reality of that hits different now as I’m looking at it, remembering the stretch and the weight.

“Touch me,” Garrett says. Not an order this time. A plea.

My hand moves carefully, fingers wrapping around his length gently.

“Wolf.” His hand tightens on my cock, stroking faster. “You’re not going to hurt me.”

I stroke him once, testing.

His breath catches. But he doesn’t stop working me though or even slow down.

Garrett shifts his grip, angling us together. His hand wraps around both of us at once and everything in my brain whites out.

We’re skin on skin.

His cock is pressed flush against mine with nothing between us.