"You liked it."
Arion's hand remained steady around the leather, his thumb tracing the buckle with a possessiveness that sent another shiver down Dean's spine.
The collar sat snug against his throat, and Dean felt the last of his resistance crumbling like ash.
"You're cruel," Dean whispered into the pillow, but his body betrayed him, arching back into Arion's touch, seeking more of the weight that held him anchored.
"Only fair," Arion murmured, settling his hips flush against Dean's, the slide of skin against skin making Dean's breath stutter. "You've been torturing me for weeks. All those…" His teeth found the shell of Dean's ear, biting just hard enough to make him whimper, "accidental brushes in the field. Leaning into me when you could've stood on your own. Making that sound when I pulled you back from the line."
Dean flushed hot, remembering.
He didn't think Arion noticed.
