Chapter 363: A Very Needy Nugget

The heavy silk sheets were pulled loosely over their hips, trapping the ridiculous amount of body heat they’d generated under the duvet like a personal sauna.

Zarius was propped up against the headboard, naked, flushed, and looking entirely too pleased with himself while keeping one arm draped casually over Cherion’s waist. Cherion was planted right between his parted thighs, head tilted back as they shared a slow kiss. Zarius’s free hand was resting casually over Cherion’s length, fingers tracing gentle, possessive circles that were making it extremely difficult for Cherion to maintain any form of higher brain function.

When Zarius finally broke the kiss with a soft, slick drag of his lips, Cherion let out a ragged breath, his dark eyes heavy with that classic post-workout stupor. He dropped his forehead onto Zarius’s shoulder with a quiet sigh, taking a second to catch his breath while the room finally quieted down around them.

"You really can’t get enough of me, can you?" Cherion teased, though his voice was completely wrecked, a raspy mess from all the embarrassing noises he’d been muffling into the pillows ten minutes ago.

"True," Zarius replied without an ounce of hesitation. He leaned down, pressing his lips against the flushed curve of Cherion’s neck, dragging his tongue lightly over his pulse point just to be a menace.

Cherion squirmed instantly, a shiver running straight down his spine as a soft gasp escaped him. "Ah... stop... I can’t get enough of you either, you absolute menace."

Cherion shifted slightly, turning his head to look back at Zarius. He traced a finger over Zarius’s jawline, his expression softening into something thoughtful as he looked down at the faint, fading marks on Zarius’s collarbone.

"Though... your performance today was a little different," Cherion murmured, his thumb brushing over a patch of skin near Zarius’s throat. "You were definitely rougher than usual. Running through the halls like a lunatic, throwing me onto the bed... you barely gave me a second to breathe." A faint, fond smirk touched Cherion’s lips as he met Zarius’s dark gaze. "Not that I hated it."

Zarius’s jaw tightened slightly, a flicker of actual remorse flashing through his eyes. He lifted his hand from Cherion’s lap to cup his face, his thumb stroking gently over Cherion’s cheek.

"I’m sorry about that," Zarius said, his deep voice carrying a quiet weight. "It was... harder to control my strength this time. My head was pounding, and every instinct I had was just telling me to tear your clothes off and lock the door." He paused, exhaling a low, heavy sigh through his nose. "It’s likely because of the rut."

Cherion blinked, his eyebrows practically shooting into his hairline. "Wait. You’re in rut? Oh, that explains so much..."

Cherion let out a dramatic groan, dropping his head forward to slam his forehead, gently, against Zarius’s chest. "God, I was so busy stressing out over your curse that I completely blanked on the possibility of your rut. Why didn’t you just say something?"

"It came earlier than usual," Zarius murmured, his arm tightening around Cherion’s waist to pull him flush against his chest. I’ve spent my entire life choking down those miserable suppressants to ride these out alone in the dark. This is my very first real rut with a mate. I didn’t know how intense the instinct would be without those drugs blunting my mind. By the time I finally realized for sure that it was a rut... I was already... you know?"

Cherion pulled back slightly, sitting up in Zarius’s lap so he could frame Zarius’s cheeks with both of his hands. His expression was serious, filled with a clear, fierce warmth.

"Zarius, listen to me," Cherion said firmly, looking directly into his eyes. "I will take you in rut over that terrifying curse any day of the week. Do you have any idea how scary it was watching you in pain earlier?"

Leaning in, Cherion pressed a warm, lingering kiss to Zarius’s lips, lingering there until Zarius let out a low hum against his mouth.

"And besides," Cherion whispered against his lips, his thumbs gently stroking Zarius’s cheekbones, "this is a thousand times better than watching you force down those miserable magic suppressants. You big nugget... you don’t need those things anymore. Say adios to them."

Zarius stared at him for a long heartbeat, his eyes softening before a low, dangerous heat flared deep within them.

"I know," Zarius growled softly. "Though I have no idea what ’adios’ means."

Before Cherion could say another word, Zarius reached up, gripping the back of Cherion’s neck, and pulled him into a deep, possessive kiss. His tongue slid past Cherion’s parted lips, taking his breath away all over again in a slow rhythm that made Cherion’s knees go completely weak. Cherion melted into the kiss, his fingers tangling into Zarius’s damp hair, holding onto him tight as the warmth between them flared up once more.

When they finally broke apart, both panting softly, Cherion rested his cheek against Zarius’s broad chest, listening to the steady, heavy thud of his heart. The quiet in the room was comfortable and thick, the cool breeze outside rustling the heavy curtains at the balcony window.

"We should probably head back soon," Cherion murmured reluctantly after a long silence, trailing his fingers lazily over Zarius’s bare torso. "We’ve been gone for hours. Marielle and the others are probably wondering where we disappeared to."

Zarius snorted softly, resting his chin on top of Cherion’s messy silver hair. "Oh, they won’t be wondering. If they have an ounce of sense in their heads, they know exactly what we’re doing."

"That doesn’t make it any less embarrassing," Cherion grumbled into his skin, though a small laugh escaped his chest.

"You’ll get over it," Zarius rumbled, his hand sliding lazily down Cherion’s back to press him closer.

Cherion chuckled, shaking his head at Zarius’s shamelessness. But as he sat there in Zarius’s lap, adjusting his weight to lean back against him, his thigh pressed flush against Zarius’s lower belly.

Cherion froze.

Beneath the thin layer of the silk sheet, something hard was pressing firm and rigid against his lower back once more.

Cherion’s eyes widened slightly as a smile spread across his face. He shifted his hips just an inch, testing the pressure, and heard Zarius let out a low, rough breath right behind his ear.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," Cherion whispered, turning his head to look over his shoulder. "Again?"

"I told you," Zarius purred, a wicked smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as his hands tightened on Cherion’s hips. "The rut doesn’t just go away because we talked about it."

Something about the absurdly proud look on Zarius’s face, and the fact that his body was apparently operating on zero fatigue, stirred a sudden, competitive spark in Cherion’s chest.

Instead of pulling away or whining about his aching muscles, Cherion reached back with one hand. Sliding his fingers beneath the warm sheets, Cherion wrapped his palm firmly around Zarius’s fully erect length.

Zarius’s breath hitched sharply, his jaw clenching as Cherion’s warm fingers stroked over his sensitive tip.

Cherion glanced back over his shoulder, his face completely flushed, but he had that crooked, breathless grin that meant he was all in.

"Well then," Cherion whispered, his grip tightening just enough to make Zarius let out a low growl. "Don’t keep me waiting."