Page 41 of Don’t Hook the Merman

Luke was about to start calling Syrus some less-than-desirable names when, faster than Luke could blink, Syrus’s robe was on the floor and Syrus was sliding in next to him, all cool, smooth skin pressing against Luke from seemingly every direction.

He wasn’t shy or coy about it now either. He tangled their legs together without hesitation, and Luke could feel the impressive length of Syrus’s cock against his thigh, stirring and filling as their bodies intertwined.

Then somehow Luke was flat on his back with Syrus looming over him yet again, his gaze roaming over Luke’s bare chest like he hadn’t already seen every bit of it before.

Syrus propped himself onto one arm and stroked at the skin there, his thumb brushing against Luke’s nipple. “So much hair on a human,” he mused.

Luke gasped a laugh. He didn’t have an especially hairy chest, but it was true there was some, in contrast to Syrus, who seemed to be smooth all over.

Remarkably smooth, actually, Luke noticed as he brushed a hand over Syrus’s bicep. There was no hair—not even on Syrus’s arms or legs—and his skin had a subtly different texture. Smoother and softer than any skin Luke had ever felt before.

The strangeness didn’t turn Luke off. If anything, it heightened the anticipation burning in his blood. The last person in Luke’s bed had been Gina, and she had been soft and warm and familiar, in her way. Syrus’s skin was soft, yes, but his body was all hard planes, large and cool and overwhelming.

Syrus continued to thumb Luke’s nipples, humming with delight when they hardened under his touch. His gaze roamed over Luke hungrily. “You’re shivering, sweet Luke.”

He was, wasn’t he? “It’s been a long time.”

“I had my hands on you just this morning.”

And Syrus was just as smug about it now as he had been then. Luke could see it on his face even through the impressive fall of Syrus’s golden hair surrounding them. “It’s a little different,” he managed to say.

“Is it?” Syrus asked, and he seemed pleased by that fact, as if he knew exactly how rare it was for Luke to have a guest in his bed, let alone a male guest.

“Luke,” Syrus crooned, brushing his lips over Luke’s cheekbone as his hand slid down to squeeze at Luke’s side. “I’ve never mated with a human. How will you take me?” He nibbled gently at Luke’s ear. “Show me.”

Luke wanted to say something about presumption, but the hot rush of want that ran through him held back the words.

Take him. Fuck, Luke wanted to. He ached for it, even.

Luke pressed at Syrus’s chest, pushing him back until he was sitting up beside Luke. Luke shimmied out of his underwear and tossed it away.

He cleared his throat and widened his legs. “Here. I’ll take you here.”

Syrus reached out and pet softly at Luke’s erect cock, smirking at the way it twitched and jerked at his touch. “Not here, surely.”

Luke bit at his lower lip, trying to keep back a humiliating whine. “Lower.”

Syrus’s hand slid down, caressing Luke’s sack. He raised a pale eyebrow.

“Lower.”

Those soft fingertips traced Luke’s perineum, then trailed lower until they stopped at the telltale spot between Luke’s cheeks. Syrus’s dark eyes gleamed. “Ah.”

In another move too speedy and graceful to process, Syrus threw the covers off them completely and slid down between Luke’s legs, parting them wider to accommodate his broad shoulders. His gaze was intent as ever, focused on where his fingertips touched.

Luke’s cheeks were on fire now. He’d never been studied like this. Not there.

“But so small,” Syrus murmured, pressing gently at Luke’s hole, even that slight touch enough to set Luke’s nerve endings alight. “I’ll hurt you.”

Luke swallowed hard. “You won’t. There’s… We’ll work up to it. And use, um, lubricant, so I can…” He trailed off, not sure how to finish his own sentence.

Syrus looked up at him through dark-blond lashes. “So you can be wet for me, sweet Luke? Wet and warm and willing?”

Luke choked on air, nodding dumbly.

“Where is it?” Syrus asked eagerly. “The lubricant.”

“In my drawer.”