“What has you in such deep thoughts, beloved?”
A voice from behind Yves startled him out of his head, causing him to lose his balance as he swirled rapidly to face the newcomer. A hand shot out faster than he could track and pulled him into rock-hard chest, securing him from losing his balance.
The smell of jasmine and a scent so masculine—they were indescribable but fitting for the stranger—calmed and soothed his troubled thoughts. It was as if he were inhaling an addictive substance, for he felt looser and more relaxed than he ever had since before he was an infant. The arms around him made him feel safe, and the heartbeat underneath his ears lulled him to a state where he felt like he could fall straight to sleep just listening to the soothing sound.
In all, just the presence of the stranger appealed to him than anything ever had, and the restlessness he was constantly besieged with disappeared as though it were an emotion foreign to him. Raising his head slowly, Yves peeked through orange-red lashes, staring up into a face so handsome, he felt his heart stutter and his breath catch. A whimper released from him without his knowledge, and instinctively, he knew he could forever stare into this face and never grow tired of it.
Something was happening to him, and he didn’t know what or understand it. For the first time ever in his life, he felt a part of himself—that he had never paid any mind to before—awaken with such vigor. His cock was rock-hard to the point of painful and his face flushed, red lips slightly parted and golden eyes dilated to the point that they were almost slits.
His mind blanked out only to the point of chanting want, want, and want in a mantra.
“Are you all right, youngling?” a deep timbre voice, so silky and raspy, questioned.
Yves heard none of the words the man said, only the tenor, sinking into a haze he did not wish to shake himself from.
The man was beauty personified. Golden all over, the man’s eyes matched Yves’s in color but slightly different in shape. Long golden hair flowed down the man’s back in a braid, stopping abruptly at the man’s back, and Yves suddenly felt the urge to take it out of its braid and run his fingers through it. The man was six feet four inches of delicious muscles, towering over his own lanky six feet height.
“Kiss me,” Yves demanded, uncaring about anything else other than what he wanted, no, needed.
The man trailed his knuckles down Yves’s high cheekbones, enthralled. He leaned forward as though to grant Yves his desire but stopped short of a hairsbreadth from Yves’s red lips. Physically shaking himself, the man leaned back and then stood to his full height.
“Not yet, beloved. Soon but not yet.” The man pulled Yves to him, hugging him tightly so that they were touching all over.
A shudder ran through Yves’s body, but he was still enthralled in the haze of wanting this beautiful specimen holding him tightly. His body itched with desire to climb into the man’s body, to hold on tight and never let go. And all through what was happening to him, soothing hands trailed all over his body, from his orange-red hair hanging loose down his back to his spine.
The man held him through the shudders racking his body as need made him vibrate.
“Calm down, love. Deep breaths,” the lulling voice soothed.
Gradually, Yves felt himself gaining back control. The mating call singing through his body was unlike anything he had ever felt before, powerful and frightening in its intensity. Hanging on to the stranger like a lifeline, Yves felt the call recede to a dull roar underneath his skin.
He had heard several stories from his parents—well, eavesdropped on the conversation his parents had had with his older brother, Aaeren, when they had been explaining the call to him. In all that was said, he could not recall ever hearing about the call reacting like it had to him, nor had he heard about it diminishing just enough for him to function properly without some sort of release.
He was confused, and turning his head up to gaze at the man holding him, he let his confusion show.
The man smiled tenderly. “I know, love. I have waited a long time for you and I would not have come, but I felt a pull unlike any I have felt in the past. You needed me and I had to come.”
Still confused, Yves frowned. “Who are you?”
“I am known as Apollo, and you are my beloved, my true mate.”
Yves woke to the feel of heat surrounding him, sweet delicious heat and a wall behind him. He felt hands holding him tight against the wall, and a reminder of the most delicious dream he had ever had brought a smile to his lips. He sighed contentedly, rubbing his cheek against the arm under his head. Such a nice dream he was having, and he didn’t want to wake up from it!
He purred in his dream, rubbing himself up against the warm heat engulfing him. A groan came from somewhere in the back of his mind, but he had no idea what that sound was or who made it. Uncaringly, he burrowed further into the warmth, nodding his approval.
Something brushed against his face and he slapped the pesky thing away. Even still partially asleep, he felt so rested, in fact, more rested than he could remember, and nothing was going to bring him out of that state. If he could get away with it, he’d remain in this state of semiconsciousness where he felt refreshed and surrounded by warmth.
Something tugged hard on his hair this time, a groan filling the room in. Yves finally relented and opened his eyes, only to feel reality crashing down on him as he peered over his shoulder at the golden man whose face was a mask of pained torture. He felt his own face heat up in embarrassment as he felt the erect cock that he had been rubbing all over nudging his ass cheeks.
Yves froze in place, staring speechlessly at Apollo with his mouth gone dry. This was certainly no dream! He watched as amusement soon colored the other man’s face, and then a bubble of laughter erupted, shaking his lithe body with the vibrations. He frowned, confused as to what caused the amusement.
Apollo leaned into him and gave him a resounding kiss on the cheek, his lips still curved in mirth. “You precious little thing. You should see your expression.”
Yves flipped over, still lying on top of Apollo so that they were facing each other, and then pouted. “I’m not little.”
“Not at all, you aren’t,” Apollo agreed, his gaze dropping to glance between their bodies to Yves’s prick, which was already semi-hard but growing bigger by the attention paid to it.
Their hips perfectly aligned so that they could feel every inch of each other, Apollo groaned and pulled with his hand behind Yves’s neck until their foreheads touched. Closing his eyes, he savored the feel of the male in his arms, knowing he would not allow this closeness again until the young man had come of age. He would not allow it simply because he was not sure he could keep his hands to himself for much longer.
A regretful sigh slipped from Apollo’s lips as he knew he had to restrain himself from pouncing on his younger mate. Strong, smooth fingers lightly traced his face, gentle and steady in their tracks.
“We have to stop.”
“Later,” Yves murmured, leaning forward to drag his lips against Apollo’s cheek.
“We…should…” Apollo said, trying to form the words a small part of his mind was insisting on.
“Not yet,” Yves countered.
Yves trailed his hand down Apollo’s body, touching with inexperienced yet eager fingers. He paused at Apollo’s waist and pushed the shirt upward, exposing Apollo’s six-pack muscled stomach and the beginning of a holy trail. His breath whooshed out of him as he stared, transfixed. The man really was golden all over, with his slacks riding extremely low on the V of his hips.
Yves reached out a hand but was stopped by Apollo gripping it in a firm hold. He looked up but was met with determination set in the other man’s face. They remained like that for a short while until Apollo slipped out from under Yves and the bed, landing agilely on his feet and padding away into what Yves assumed to be the bathroom before shutting it behind him.