Page 97 of Threadbound

Bran sucked air into his lungs as Jamie began to trail kisses down the side of his neck, then over his shoulder as Jamie took one of Bran’s hands and lifted it, following a line—one kiss at a time—past his elbow, down his forearm, and out to his palm.Bran could feel his eyes widen as he watched Jamie cup his hand, then place a kiss on each inhuman finger.

There was no hesitation, no hint in Jamie’s body language or expression that he found Bran at all disturbing or repulsive.

Jamie noticed him staring. “Is—is this okay?”

Bran nodded, his voice gone. Instead, he reached out with his other hand to run the backs of his fingers down Jamie’s fair sun-kissed cheek, and Jamie turned his attention to that hand, capturing it and repeating the same pattern, except in reverse, beginning with Bran’s fingers and slowly trailing kisses up his arm until his lips were once again on Bran’s throat.

And then he began to work his way downward, over Bran’s sternum, his fingertips sliding over ribs and hips as he pressed kiss after kiss across Bran’s chest and stomach, the muscles clenching as lips and tongue found the hollows of his hipbones, first one, then the other.

Bran could hear his own breath rasping as he watched Jamie press his legs wider, hands skimming down Bran’s thighs, to his knees, then calves, then over the thicker knuckles and digits of his taloned toes.

The foot Jamie was caressing flexed of its own accord, Bran’s toes wrapping around Jamie’s fingers and drawing a half-smile. Bran’s heart skipped a beat as he watched Jamie’s face, the curve of his lips as he ran his fingers over Bran’s taloned foot and calf.

For all his terror the first time Jamie had seen Bran shift forms, it was obvious that Jamie harbored no disgust or fear of Bran now, even in his fae form, talons, feathers, and all.

Lugh damn it all, I’m in trouble.The irony of a prayer to the god of tricksters was not lost on him, even as Bran recognized that this was the one thing he’d so desperately wanted and against which he’d fought so very hard.

But then Jamie’s hands were working their way back up his legs, and Bran stopped thinking as Jamie’s fingers started exploring somewhere much more sensitive than his feet.

His toes curled again, this time in the bedclothes, as Jamie bent, pushing Bran’s thighs wider, to run his tongue from the base of Bran’s erection to its tip, the dark mottled grey of his cock a stark contrast to Jamie’s fair skin. And then Jamie closed his lips around Bran’s arousal, and Bran let his head fall back, fingers and toes both fisting in the fabric beneath him, his hips pressing upward, seeking more of Jamie’s mouth.

Jamie couldn’t get enough of him, couldn’t pull Bran deep enough into his throat, couldn’t run his hands over enough skin, couldn’t breathe in enough of the earthy stone-and-sea-spray scent of Bran’s body. Beneath him, Bran’s back arched, pushing higher, and Jamie opened the back of his throat, drawing in as much as he could take, his lips against Bran’s body and his nose pressed into Bran’s smooth lower stomach.

He heard Bran’s breath catch as he sucked in sharply, and Jamie increased the motion of his head, wanting—no,needingto feel Bran lose control.

When he did let go, it was Jamie who moaned around the pulsing throb of Bran’s orgasm, swallowing convulsively and tasting a hint of sea salt on the very back of his tongue. As he let Bran slip from his mouth, the fae shuddered, and his hands slid into Jamie’s hair, gently stroking as Jamie crawled back up his body.

When he could look into Bran’s burning green eyes, Jamie paused, leaning on one elbow so that he could brush a feathered lock of black hair from Bran’s forehead. Bran pulled him down for a kiss that lingered, lazy and slow, a kiss in which he could taste the bitter salt of himself on the back of Bran’s tongue and knew from the sound Bran made that the fae could also taste himself on Jamie’s.

Jamie had no intention of stopping the kiss, or stopping what his hands were doing as they slid down Bran’s sides, the warmth of his skin, still cooler than Jamie’s, and its odd, slightly pebbled texture. There was no hair on him, Jamie realized as his hands wandered, stroking and smoothing. Except for the feathery dark strands on his head. Instead, his skin itself shifted hues, dark in some places, greyish and mottled in others, and a creamy ivory in still other places—his throat, his stomach, his face. The texture of his skin shifted, too—rougher in the darker places, smoother in the lighter ones.

And Jamie wanted to touch all of them.

Beneath him, he felt Bran shift, spreading his legs wider to give Jamie space to settle between them. Space Jamie was more than happy to take, the feel of Bran’s slightly-cooler skin drawing him in as he carefully leaned his weight into Bran’s body.

“I—”

“You willna hurt me this way, either,” the fae interrupted him. Jamie felt his lips curving in a lopsided smile as he leaned in close enough that Bran’s fingers could thread into his hair and pull him into another searing kiss.

All the times he’d fantasized about Bran—both before he knew Bran’s name and after—he’d only managed to think of the human body Bran wore in the human world. Of course, Jamie couldn’t have imagined anything else, but the things that were the most intoxicating about Bran were the things that weren’t quite human—the texture of his skin and hair, the slightly cool temperature of his body against Jamie’s, the way his totally inhuman toes curled in the blankets. The way he tasted just a little bit of sea-salt brine and stone.

The way the talons on his fingers sent electric shivers through Jamie’s whole body.

“Sorry,” the fae breathed, flatting out the hand that had just traced thin talon-lines down Jamie’s back.

“Don’t be,” Jamie replied. “You can do that anytime you like.”

Bran made a small sound of amusement, then did it again. Even knowing it was coming, Jamie couldn’t stop the delicious shiver that rippled through his frame.

His body had decided that it wanted Bran’s, and even though he just came, his cock was more than half-hard again. And so was Bran’s.

Jamie took advantage of the opportunity to explore the feeling of Bran’s cock in his hand, the rippled texture of his skin and the different shape of him. Bran let out a soft hiss, his eyes closing as Jamie stroked him back to full hardness, his own erection responding the same.

“Jamie,” the fae murmured.

“Yeah?”

Bran sucked in a breath as Jamie pumped his fist around Bran’s arousal. “Ach. The flowers.”

---