Chapter 227: Warm, Wet, And Wild

Kane’s hands slid down Cyrus’s chest, fingertips tracing the defined lines of muscle beneath wet skin. The kiss deepened, turning hungry as steam curled around them.

Cyrus’s palms mapped Kane’s spine, counting vertebrae with deliberate slowness.

Kane broke away, breathless. He turned in the water, presenting his back to Cyrus.

Silver tails shifted beneath the surface, creating lazy ripples.

Cyrus’s hands found Kane’s waist immediately, pulling him back against a solid chest.

Kane’s head fell forward as Cyrus’s lips traced the curve of his neck.

"Better?"

The word ghosted across wet skin, making Kane shiver despite the heat.

Cyrus’s hands spread across Kane’s stomach, thumbs stroking upward toward his ribs.

His mouth worked methodically—kissing, tasting, occasionally biting the junction where neck met shoulder.

Kane’s breathing turned ragged.

One of Cyrus’s hands traveled higher, fingers brushing across a peaked nipple.

Kane arched into the touch, a broken sound escaping his throat.

Cyrus’s other hand dipped lower, skating dangerously close to where Kane wanted him most.

"Such a tease," Kane managed.

"Patience."

Cyrus’s teeth scraped across Kane’s shoulder blade before his tongue soothed the mark.

His hands continued their exploration—mapping, claiming, and worshipping every inch of skin they could reach.

Kane twisted his head back, seeking Cyrus’s mouth. Their lips met at an awkward angle, the kiss messy and perfect.

Steam rose around them as mineral water lapped at their joined bodies.

Cyrus’s hands settled possessively on Kane’s hips, holding him close.

"Mine," Cyrus murmured against Kane’s temple.

Kane’s response was lost in another kiss.

Cyrus’s hands shifted, guiding Kane’s hips into position. The blunt pressure made Kane gasp, fingers scrambling for purchase against smooth volcanic rock.

"Relax," Cyrus murmured, lips brushing the shell of Kane’s ear.

Kane forced his breathing to slow as Cyrus pressed forward, filling him inch by deliberate inch.

The mineral water created slick friction, but Cyrus’s length felt impossibly hot—dragon fire contained in flesh, searing Kane from the inside out.

Kane’s claws scraped stone as Cyrus bottomed out, both of them going still in the heated water.

His tails thrashed beneath the surface, creating wild ripples that splashed against the pool’s edges.

"We’re—" Kane’s voice broke as Cyrus withdrew slowly before thrusting back in. "We’re having sex outside."

"Observant." Cyrus’s teeth found the nape of Kane’s neck, biting down possessively.

The sting sent electricity down Kane’s spine, making him clench around Cyrus’s length.

Cyrus’s answering groan vibrated against Kane’s skin.

This felt different from their encounters in the penthouse—more raw, stripped of civilization’s veneer.

Just two spirits claiming each other beneath the open sky, steam rising around them like smoke from ancient pyres.

Kane’s fox instincts sang approval at the wildness of it.

No walls, no boundaries, nothing between them and the jungle except heated air and primal need.

Cyrus’s thrusts grew harder, water splashing with each movement.

His hands gripped Kane’s hips bruisingly tight, holding him steady as he drove deeper.

Kane’s head fell back against Cyrus’s shoulder, gasping as pleasure built low in his belly.

This was natural—spirits intimate beneath volcanic stone, surrounded by tropical blooms and mineral water.

The way they were always meant to be.

Cyrus’s rhythm turned punishing, each snap of his hips drawing broken sounds from Kane’s throat.

Kane’s world narrowed to sensation—Cyrus’s length driving into him, water lapping at overheated skin, steam curling through the air thick as dragon smoke.

If he could freeze time, trap this moment in amber, and carry it forever, he would.

Cyrus buried deep, hips grinding against Kane before withdrawing almost completely. The slow drag made Kane whimper, claws scraping grooves into volcanic stone.

Another thrust, harder this time.

Kane’s breath punched out as Cyrus hit something devastating inside him, pleasure sparking white-hot behind his eyes.

He committed every detail to memory—the weight of Cyrus’s hands on his hips, the bite of teeth against his shoulder, the mineral tang of water mixing with salt and sweat.

The jungle sounds faded beneath his own gasps—below the wet slap of skin meeting skin.

Cyrus’s pace turned relentless, each movement pushing Kane closer to the edge.

Kane wanted to live here—suspended between heartbeats, filled and claimed and wanted.

Safe.

Loved.

Fucked.

Cyrus’s hand wrapped around Kane’s throat, thumb stroking the rapid flutter of his pulse.

The grip tightened—not painful, just possessive enough to make Kane’s head swim.

Cyrus’s other hand slid around Kane’s hip, finding his length beneath the water.

The first stroke made Kane cry out, the sound echoing off volcanic rock.

Cyrus matched the rhythm of his hips to his hand, working Kane toward release with ruthless precision.

Kane’s vision blurred, pleasure coiling tight in his core.

"Cyrus," he gasped. "I’m—"

Cyrus bit down on the junction of Kane’s neck and shoulder, teeth breaking skin.

The sharp pain tipped Kane over the edge.

He came with a broken shout, spilling across Cyrus’s fingers as his body clenched around Cyrus’s length.

Silver flames erupted along his tails, harmless foxfire dancing across the water’s surface.

Cyrus followed moments later, thrusting deep as he emptied himself inside Kane.

His crimson energy flared outward, steam rising in thick clouds as dragon fire met mineral water.

They stayed locked together, breathing hard while the jungle sang around them.

Cyrus’s arms wrapped around Kane’s chest, holding him close as aftershocks rolled through both their bodies.

Kane’s muscles turned liquid as Cyrus withdrew slowly, the loss making him whimper.

"Again," Kane demanded, turning in Cyrus’s arms.

Cyrus’s answering smile was pure wickedness.

They continued through the afternoon—pressed against smooth boulders, bent over the pool’s edge, tangled together in shallow water until Kane lost count of how many times they’d climaxed.

The sun painted everything gold and amber as it descended toward the horizon.

Kane floated on his back, completely sated, watching clouds drift past.

"Best spa treatment ever," he declared.

Cyrus hummed agreement, trailing lazy fingers down Kane’s spine.

The wind shifted, carrying the scent of charred meat and roasted fish.

Kane’s stomach growled immediately, making him sit up. "Do you smell that?"

"It’s probably from the island night market." Cyrus gestured toward the beach path. "The resorts host it once a week."

Kane scrambled out of the hot spring, water streaming from his tails.

"We have to go."

"We’re not dressed."

"Then get dressed!" Kane grabbed their robes, throwing one at Cyrus. "I want grilled squid."

Cyrus caught the fabric, shaking his head with fond exasperation as Kane practically jumped with excitement.