Page 89 of Claim of Blood
Lander shifted, hands twitching toward modesty. “Yeah... I’m okay. Just... never been on the receiving end before.”
The words hit Adam like a punch to the gut.
He was Lander’s first.
Desire surged up like fire through oil. His hand curled around the closet frame, the wood creaking under the pressure of his grip.
Mine. The word thundered in his blood—not born of compatibility, but something deeper.Hungrier.
He turned before instinct could take hold. Rifled through the closet with swift, jarring movements. Found soft clothes like Leo’s. Passed them to Lander with hands that trembled just slightly.
“What about underwear?” Lander asked, voice cautious, still searching for footing.
Adam’s jaw flexed. He handed him a pair.
“You didn’t give me any,” Leo muttered.
The comment snapped Adam’s restraint.
He strode to Leo in two steps, grabbed his hips, and pulled him close. “Because you love it,” he growled against his ear. “Knowing I could bend you over at any moment, push down these pants, and take what’s already mine. You’re still loose. Still messy. Still mine.”
His fingers slid down, dipping beneath Leo’s waistband, finding him still slick and open. Leo moaned, pressing into his touch.
When he pulled back, Lander was dressed—but subdued. Adam caught the flicker in his eyes, the subtle scan between them. Lander could sense the shift. Could feel Adam’s attention still wrapped around them both like a noose.
Adam adjusted his cuffs, rolling them back with surgical precision. He let his gaze sweep from one to the other. They wore similar shirts. Similar bruises. Similar scents.
Claimed.
But only one had been broken open for the first time.
“We should...” Lander started, then stopped. The words faltered.
“Should what?” Adam asked softly. Dangerously.
Lander stiffened. “This doesn’t change anything,” he said quickly. “Between us. In the Court.”
Adam’s smile was a flash of fangs. “Doesn’t it?”
He stepped back, smoothing his collar. “Midnight cocktails await. After all, we have so much to discuss.”
They made it halfway down the first staircase before a muffled sound drifted from behind one of the guest suite doors.
Lander winced. “Pretty sure my parents are... otherwise occupied.” He sighed. “Should’ve put them farther from the stairs.”
A servant appeared with linens, their pace faltering as Adam moved behind Lander with predatory ease. His hand slid low, pressed between Lander’s thighs—exactly where he was, still wet and sore beneath the borrowed cotton.
The servant flushed and fled..
He withdrew his hand slowly, pleased.
“We’ll wait in the parlor,” he said, brushing an imaginary wrinkle from his sleeve. “If they’re still... enjoying themselves.”
“Oh god,” Lander groaned, palms over his face. “Can we not talk about my parents’ sex life right after you’ve—”
“After I’ve what?” Adam purred, stepping close again. Lander didn’t retreat. But he didn’t breathe, either.
Leo, already halfway down the next flight, barked a laugh. “After you’ve thoroughly debauched their son? Let’s skip the trauma and find the bottle of bourbon.”
