Chapter 462 - 463: I Want You Just As Badly.

Chapter 462: Chapter 463: I Want You Just As Badly.

When Loac had made love to him and Khobi had pretended not to know that that was what it was.

And while down here in the kitchens they’re still not quite alone, he doesn’t fucking care.

​He wants him.

​He wants all of him.

​(Is that so wrong?)

"...This is what you wanted, right?" Khobi whispers, cupping his jaw and kissing him again. Deeper this time; hard enough that the bench rattles and a heavy, hungry whine leaves his throat. Loac knows what that sound means.

​More .

​So he responds in kind; dragging him close and kissing him like he kissed him that first time, and the next, and so many times after; like he’s been starving for heat like this for his whole life and can no longer hold back his desire to feast .

Like the days since they last lay together –since Khobi last welcomed him into his body and kissed him like this –have stretched on like years.

Each brush of his lips lingers, loath to part from Khobi’s own; savouring him with every sweep of his tongue and his fingers clutching tight into his hair as if to keep him from pulling away.

​How, how, how could he have ever missed it?

​Loac kisses him like he’s everything. And when Khobi finally pulls back –only back, not away –his blue eyes are wide and shining like even though he’d asked for it he hadn’t expected it.

But as Khobi meets his gaze –just as breathless –he lowers his lashes like he’s instinctively trying to conceal what he sees there.

​No, that’s not right, Khobi can’t help but think, and gives Loac’s chin a light nudge with the knuckle of one of his fingers. Look at me .

​Loac’s eyes dart up to lock with his; glistening with desire and the promise of midnight.

​"...If you want some attention just say so," Khobi whispers into his lips, and then begins tracking a heavy line up his throat.

The marks he leaves on Loac’s dark skin are more difficult to spot than the ones Loac leaves on him but he knows how to spot them.

The last ones he left there are starting to fade, and he can’t be having that.

​"Who said I wanted attention?" Loac says, coy, but he’s grinning as he says it.

​"Well, if you don’t –" Khobi hums, making to extract himself from their tangle of limbs.

Loac’s arms immediately tighten around him, and he gets a playful nip at his lip for trying to deny him.

​" I didn’t say that ."

​Loac wets his lips, and cards a hand back through his hair and Khobi can’t believe –for the hundredth, thousandth time since he realised –there was ever a time he didn’t know how Loac felt about him because it’s just right there on his face and in his touch; laid honest and bare.

Then he dives back in, mouth hot and hungry on his and Khobi’s lips eagerly parting for his tongue.

​It feels different, kissing Loac now that he knows. Better. He can appreciate the way his lips leave Khobi’s tingling, and how the sweep of his hands down the length of his body leaves him feeling not just turned on, but light and warm all over.

He catches little flecks of blue as Loac’s eyelids flutter as he presses up into Khobi’s heat, his lips, hands, and body full of fire and want, showering them both in sparks.

It’s a miracle nothing around them catches alight.

​They say lightning never strikes twice. So why does Khobi feel it hit his spine every time Loac touches him?

​One of Loac’s hands tightens in his hair, and Khobi lets out a soft gasp as his other drifts to his ass and invites him to grind up against him with a light tug.

Both hands braced behind Loac on the bench, Khobi’s hips jerk up into his body all on their own, and suddenly the lips on his are headier and heavier, with desire bleeding into everywhere they touch.

​He knows what that means by now; what Loac’s saying when his fingers dig into his ass like they want to be deeper.

​I want you .

​Khobi’s breath stutters; his body curling tight with want as Loac starts brushing teasing, light, barely-there kisses across his collar and up his jaw, tempting.

Trying to lure him in; inviting him to follow him off into the secluded corridors of the castle and get a little relief from the heat coursing through his veins.

He knows it’s there; he knows just how desperately Khobi burns for him when he kisses him like this. And while they don’t have long before the food’s ready to come off the fire –not nearly long enough for what Khobi’s really starting to crave, they still have to wait for it to cool so they’ve got a little time for something .

​"...I don’t mind entertaining you," Khobi snickers, drawing back just far enough that when Loac’s searing eyes flit up to his they’re practically nose to nose.

He’s said it to him before; in a different time, under different circumstances, but this is just as thrilling. "...You sure you can handle me?"

​It’s the right thing to say, and even though Khobi’s come to love blue more than any other colour, there’s certainly something to be said for the gleaming back of midnight, too.

...

When they slink back into the kitchen; Khobi fixing his shirt and Loac biting his lips to hide back his smirk, the pot’s been taken off the fire for them and the servants politely pretend they don’t know where they’ve been or what they’ve been doing to each other.

Without a word Khobi makes a sharp beeline to the nearest sink and sets about scrubbing down his hands and his face and rinsing out his mouth; ears reddening when Loac falls in beside him looking smug.

​And if his voice comes out a little raspy when he thanks Tobo for minding the pot for them, well then that’s no one’s business.