Chapter 40: The Second Bond! 1
The cave was dark. Neve’s heart was doing something unreasonable.
’It’s finally time,’ he thought.
He stood very still in the dark cave with winter starting outside and Cael warm behind him.
’It’s finally time to sleep with a man,’ he told himself.
Cael’s hands settled on his shoulders. They were large, the palms broad and rough with calluses, but his touch was soft. His thumbs pressed into the tense muscles at the base of Neve’s neck, rubbing slow circles. Neve’s breath hitched. His red ears, usually perked and alert, twitched and then flattened slightly against his skull in a mix of apprehension and something else... a deep, instinctual recognition of the predator behind him.
"You’re shaking," Cael observed. His voice was a low rumble, closer now. His breath stirred the fine hairs at the nape of Neve’s neck.
"I’m just cold," Neve lied, his own voice thin.
"You’re not." Cael’s hands slid down his arms, a slow, possessive drag that made Neve’s skin prickle everywhere they touched. Cael’s fingers found the hem of Neve’s shirt and gripped it. "Lift your arms."
The command was quiet. Neve’s mind screamed a dozen protests, but his body obeyed, moving as if disconnected from his will. The soft fabric was drawn up and over his head, leaving him bare from the waist up in the cool cave air. He wrapped his arms around himself, his tail curling close to his legs for comfort.
Cael made a growling sound in his throat, almost similar to pure satisfaction. His hands returned, skimming over Neve’s ribs, mapping the delicate bones and soft flesh. "So small," he murmured, more to himself than to Neve. "I could break you so easily."
The words should have terrified him. Instead, a hot, shameful thrill shot straight to Neve’s groin. He felt himself hardening against his will, the evidence tenting his loose trousers.
Cael noticed. Of course he did. A predator always notices the most vulnerable reactions of its prey. One hand splayed across Neve’s stomach, holding him still, while the other dipped lower, palming him through the fabric. Neve jerked, a choked gasp escaping him.
"Please," he whispered, not knowing what he was asking for.
"Huh?" Cael’s mouth was at his ear again. He squeezed, and Neve’s hips bucked forward into the pressure. "Do you want me to stop?"
Neve shook his head frantically, then stilled, horrified by his own honesty. He couldn’t speak.
’Maybe I should use this opportunity to stop him. But the system...’
"That’s good, Neve." Cael’s fingers made quick work of the tie on Neve’s trousers, pushing them down in one motion. The cold air kissed his bare skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat of Cael’s gaze on him. He was completely exposed. His cock, slender and flushed, stood stiff against his belly. His tail, a bushy cascade of red and white rings, was the only cover he had left, and it twitched nervously.
"Turn around, Neve," Cael said.
Neve turned, his movements stiff. In the deep gloom of the cave, Cael’s eyes gleamed with a faint, phosphorescent light. He was already bare-chested, his torso a landscape of hard muscle and old scars under dark, rosette-marked skin. His own skirt was unwrapped, pushed down just enough to free his erection. Neve’s mouth went dry. It was... immense. Thick and heavy just as he remembered, the head flushed a deep, ruddy colour, with a slight curve that looked brutally efficient. A bead of clear moisture gathered at the tip.
Neve couldn’t look away. A strange, hollow ache opened up inside him.
"On your knees," Cael instructed, his voice gentler than the words.
Neve sank to the straw-lined floor of the cave. Cael stepped forward until his cock was level with Neve’s face. The scent of him was overwhelming—musky, wild, purely male.
"Touch it, Neve," Cael said. "Please."
Hesitantly, Neve reached out. His fingers brushed the hot, velvety skin, and he flinched at the sheer heat and solidity of it. He wrapped his hand around the dick. He gave an experimental stroke, and Cael’s breath hissed between his teeth. Emboldened by the reaction, Neve leaned forward, his curiosity overpowering his fear. He stuck out his tongue, a shy, pink flick, and tasted the salt-bitter pre-come at the tip.
Cael’s hand buried itself in Neve’s hair. "More."
Neve opened his mouth. He took the head inside, the familiar stretch of his lips both strange and exciting. He swirled his tongue around the crown, learning its shape and texture. Cael groaned, a deep, ragged sound that seemed to come from the earth itself. The sound went straight to Neve’s own cock, which jumped, leaking onto the straw beneath him.
"Deeper, Neve. Please take it deeper."
Neve tried. He relaxed his jaw and let Cael guide him forward with his hand in his hair. The thick intrusion hit the back of his throat, and he gagged, eyes watering. He pulled back, coughing.
"Shhh," Cael soothed, his thumb stroking Neve’s cheek. "Again. Slowly."
Neve tried again, with more determination this time.
’I’ve done this before. Why is it suddenly different?’
He asked himself as he bobbed his head, finding a rhythm, using his tongue, learning what made Cael’s thighs tense and what made him utter those soft, approving growls. He was lost in the act, in the heavy weight on his tongue, the musky taste, the feel of powerful muscles quivering under his hands where they rested on Cael’s hips. His own need was a frantic pulse between his legs, ignored but screaming for attention.
Cael’s control snapped. His thrusts into Neve’s mouth became harder, faster, less controlled. "It’s going to come out," he warned, his voice strangled.
Neve didn’t pull away. He hollowed his cheeks and sucked harder, a desperate, instinctive motion. With a roar that echoed off the cave walls, Cael came. The hot, bitter flood filled Neve’s mouth more than he expected. He swallowed convulsively, some dribbling down his chin. He kept sucking, gently, until Cael softened in his mouth with a shudder.
Cael pulled himself free, looking down at Neve with eyes that blazed in the dark. Neve knelt there, lips swollen and wet, looking utterly debauched. Cael crouched down, his expression fierce. "My turn."