Liam's laugh was a sharp, bright sound in the warm light of the bedroom. It was the last moment of clear-headedness he would have.
Arik's eyes opened, and the playful offense in them had been replaced by something far more primal. He didn't bother with a verbal reply. He simply lowered his head, bypassing Liam's lips entirely and pressing his mouth to the hollow of his throat. His hands, which had been resting on Liam's hips, slide up his back to grip the fabric of his shirt and pull it over his head in one smooth motion.
The discarded tunic joined Arik's coat on the floor, and the sudden exposure to the warm air made Liam's skin pebble. Arik's gaze followed the path of his hands as he traced the lines of Liam's torso, his thumbs brushing over his nipples, which hardened instantly at the touch.
"You're cruel," Arik repeated, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through Liam's chest. "But I can be patient."
