Page 145 of The Hyena’s Guardian

Theron's heart slammed against his ribs. He pressed his forehead to Matt's, breathing him in, letting the words settle into his bones.

“Then let me take care of you,” he said. “Let me show you.”

Matt nodded, his hands sliding down Theron's back, fingers tracing the ridges of muscle, the dip of his spine. “Show me.”

Theron reached down, his hand finding Matt's hip, then sliding lower. His fingers brushed against the inside of Matt's thigh, and Matt's breath caught, his legs falling open in silent invitation.

Theron kissed him again, soft and reassuring, as his hand moved higher. His fingers found Matt's length, wrapping around it gently, and Matt gasped into his mouth, his hips bucking into the touch.

“You’ve been carrying this as long as I have.” Theron murmured.

“Yes.” Matt's voice was wrecked. “God, yes.”

Theron stroked him carefully, learning the rhythm of his breath, the way his body tensed and released with each pass of his hand. Matt's hands gripped his shoulders, fingers digging in, and the sounds he made, low, desperate, beautiful, sent heat curling through Theron's gut.

“I want to taste you,” Theron said, his mouth against Matt's ear.

Matt's breath stuttered. “Theron…”

“Let me.”

Matt's eyes were dark, pupils blown wide, and he nodded, a single, shaky motion.

Theron kissed his way down again, slower this time, his mouth trailing over Matt's chest, his stomach, the sensitive skin just below his navel. Matt's hands fisted in the sheets, his body trembling with anticipation.

When Theron reached his destination, he paused. Looked up at Matt, at the flush spreading across his chest, the way his head was thrown back, the trust written across every line of his body.

And then Theron lowered his head.

The first touch of his tongue was gentle, exploratory. A question asked in heat and salt and the quiet surrender of Matt's body beneath him. Matt's hips jerked, a sharp gasp escaping his lips, and Theron's hands found his hips, holding him steady.

“Easy,” Theron murmured against his skin. “Let me take care of you.”

Matt's response was a sound that wasn't quite a word. His hand found Theron's hair, fingers threading through the dark strands, not pulling, just holding. Anchoring himself.

Theron took him deeper, his mouth working with a rhythm that was slow and deliberate. He learned the sounds Matt made: the gasps, the whimpers, the way his breath caught when Theron did something right. He cataloged them, memorized them, let them guide him.

Matt's thighs trembled. His hand tightened in Theron's hair. “Theron, I'm close.”

Theron pulled back, just enough to look up at him. “Not yet.”

Matt let out a sound that was almost a whimper. “Please.”

“Not yet.” Theron kissed the inside of his thigh, soft and lingering. “I want to feel you come apart for me. But not yet.”

He crawled back up Matt's body, settling over him, their hips pressing together. Matt's arms wrapped around him, pulling him close, and Theron buried his face in the curve of Matt's neck, breathing him in.

“I've got you,” Theron whispered. “I'm not going anywhere.”

Matt's arms tightened around him. His voice, when it came, was thick with emotion. “I know.”

Theron shifted, his hand finding Matt's again, fingers lacing together. He pressed a kiss to Matt's jaw, then his lips, soft and slow.

“Tell me what you need,” Theron said. “Tell me, and I'll give it to you.”

Matt's eyes met his. Steady. Sure. “I need you inside me.”

The words landed like a blow, soft and devastating. Theron's breath caught, his heart hammering against his ribs. “Are you sure?”