Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 125248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
He rubbed his thumbs along Syn’s throat, feeling the pulse there, pounding fast and strong. He turned his face and nuzzled into Syn’s jaw, dragging his nose along the rough line of stubble.
“Love,” he whispered.
Syn sucked in a breath and released it with a low groan. The sound was muted and broken around the edges.
Furi closed his eyes tighter. He moved to Syn’s ear, lips barely grazing it. “I miss you so much.”
Syn’s fists loosened in his jacket and for half a second, he thought he was going to step back.
Instead, Syn wrapped both arms around his waist and dragged him in so hard Furi grunted into his shoulder, the force of it nearly lifting him onto his toes. He locked his arms around Syn’s neck and held on.
Fuck.
Syn’s arms were crushing and unforgiving around him, but he’d let him break every bone in his body if that was what it took.
He buried his face in Syn’s throat, sliding one hand into the short hair at the back of his head, the other pressed flat between his shoulder blades.
Syn held him as though he was angry at the space that’d existed between them for weeks, and Furi held him as if his actions could apologize better than his words.
Syn wove his hand into his hair, making him shudder at the familiar grasp. It wasn’t demanding or punishing, just claiming a place that had always belonged to him.
Syn began to pull back, causing a needy, desperate moan to leave escape before Furi could check it. He opened his eyes to find Syn staring at his mouth.
The air shifted between them and Furi felt the urge of the kiss like hunger moving under his skin. But he waited, needing Syn to choose. Syn tightened the hold on his hair. “Furious.”
Furi’s eyes burned, but he kept his voice steady. “Yes.”
Syn looked at him for another long second before he closed the last few inches between them, his mouth coming down on Furi’s in a way that said he still had a lot of hurt and anger inside.
Furi took it with a rough inhale, clamping onto Syn’s shoulders as the kiss rocked through him.
Their mouths moved possessively, then slower, then hard again when Furi made a sound that made Syn drag him closer. The kiss deepened by degrees of brokenness, reunion, relief, and surrender.
Syn pulled back enough for them to breathe, and Furi chased him half an inch before he stopped himself.
Syn’s jaw worked as the kiss deepened, slower now, aching with everything neither of them had strength to say.
It felt so damn good that Furi melted into him, his body answering before pride or fear could intervene.
When Syn finally broke away to inhale, they stayed locked together, both panting, hips pressed close, the heat between them impossible to ignore.
Syn rested his brow against Furi’s and slid his hand through his hair with such careful tenderness it nearly ruined him.
“Come inside.”
Furi nodded, unable to speak. Syn reached down and took his hand. He stared at their joined fingers before Syn tugged him toward the door.
The house was dark and silent when they stepped inside. Furi moved carefully behind him, backpack in his other hand, boots sounding too loud no matter how softly he tried to step.
The air smelled like oak, leather, and whatever savory meal had been cooked earlier. Syn led him through the downstairs without turning on lights, before they climbed a set of stairs together. Furi watched the flex of Syn’s back, the broad line of his shoulders, the way his bare feet landed on the steps.
He’d followed Syn into rooms a thousand times, but this felt different. More important, and a little dangerous.
Syn opened a door and waited for him to walk inside.
The bedroom was lit by the moonlight filtering through large, open bay windows. The sheer curtains swayed with the breeze, slow and romantic. The damp air carried the scent of pasture grass, warming his face.
The bed was rumpled, quilt pushed back, and the pillows tossed, proving that Syn hadn’t slept either.
He closed the door, and for a moment, they stood facing each other in silence. Syn’s gaze found his, and Furi’s entire body went still under the weight of that expression. Syn reached for the waistband of his jeans and Furi’s breath stuttered.
He didn’t smile, or make it a performance, his expression controlled as he began to undress with quiet, deliberate movements.
Furi gripped the lapels of his jacket and slid it off, letting it fall over the chair by the door. He removed his shirt, boots, belt, and jeans. Each piece landing where he stood.
Syn watched him and Furi let him. It felt like another form of apology. He’d turned himself into money and called it sacrifice without letting the man who loved him decide what sacrifice was to him.