His balls ached, especially when Morgan licked his lips again.
“Want to come in your mouth,” Kisho muttered as he stroked himself, on edge and hard as hell.
“No. I want to watch. I want to see you spill, that milky white cum sliding down that long cock. Then I want to lick it up.”
Kisho moved his hand faster and widened his legs, hungry for Morgan. Eager to please, though he should have stayed far away from the sin of temptation packaged around that handsome face.
“I love your spice. Cinnamon, my favorite,” Morgan said on a sigh as he inhaled. He never took his gaze away from Kisho's rapidly moving hand. “Oh, yeah. That's it. You're wet, little fox.
And so thick. You're going to feel so good inside me.” Kisho groaned, unable to keep his pleasure silent.
“So pretty. I wish I had the words to describe you, kitsu.” Hearing the special name pushed Kisho further.
“Come for me. Right now. Let me see how much you'll give me. How much I need to lap from that fucking hot cock.”
Kisho groaned as he gripped himself and spewed. Morgan watched him as if mesmerized.
And Kisho continued to come, his beast urging him to display himself to the fullest.
Morgan dropped to his knees and brought his mouth over Kisho, catching the fall of cum and drinking it down in greedy gulps. When Kisho finally ceased, Morgan gently laved Kisho with his tongue.
Then Morgan backed away and stood. After wiping his mouth, he leaned close and kissed Kisho hard.
“Write about that.” He winked, then turned and left before Kisho could gather his wits to speak.
The door closed solidly behind him.
Kisho stared at it, then down at his flaccid shaft. The incident seemed more a dream than reality, but the connection that continued to grow between them refused to go away.
“Morgan, what am I going to do with you?” He sighed and looked down at desk. It was then he noticed the white rose sitting where his journal had been moments earlier. No thorns.
White. Sweet and rich.
And another of Kisho's inner walls came crumbling down.
He woke the next morning with the intention of confronting Morgan about the flowers and only the flowers. He entered the kitchen to find Jules once again missing. No sign of Morgan either.
Mrs. Sharpe sat with the rest of the team, minus Jack and Melissa, who were busy working on the grounds. “Kisho, come sit next to me. Fallon tells me you found Montaña's footprint yesterday.”
Kisho grabbed a plate and filled it up from the buffet laid out on the counter. He joined Mrs. Sharpe and the others at the long table. “I think I did. We traced the bills of some private docks to one of Montaña's lesser-used aliases. And no, I didn't see it. I happened on the coincidence after Fallon read some thug's mind.”
“The guy's in custody in New Orleans on attempted murder,” Fallon added. He leaned back and put an arm around Olivia's chair. “He tried to cut a deal with the state by sharing information about one of Montaña's mercs. He didn't tell the feds anything we didn't already know, but I dug through his thoughts and found the docks. I think the dock in Florida is where we should look next. Morgan mentioned Montaña's boat, and the coast of Miami is a logical place to search. I'm betting one of those places will get us closer, but we need to move now.”
“Morgan and Jules are already down there.” Mrs. Sharpe kept her eyes on Kisho, and her knowing look bugged the hell out of him. She said something else, but he couldn't hear her.
Morgan was gone. With Jules. They were alone. Together.
A rush of fury made him itch to change. He gripped his fork in a tight fist, no longer hungry for eggs and bacon but for violence.
“Kisho,” Mrs. Sharpe snapped, “pay attention. I want you to focus for me after breakfast.
I've tried to give you time, but we have important work to do.” He glanced around the table to see the others staring at him. He drew in a deep breath and told his beast to relax. We belong to Jules. It's okay. No problem. Jules doesn't want Morgan that way. After a heartbeat, his beast backed off before snarling, He'd better not.
Tersch smirked at him and mouthed, Lucky you. He wiggled his brows at Mrs. Sharpe, as if the woman couldn't see him from the corner of her eye.
Kisho saw her try to smother a smile.
“Gunnar, I want you to meet with me after Kisho's done. We have work to do downstairs.” In the labs, she meant.
Tersch lost his smirk.
“Have fun, buddy,” Kisho rasped, trying hard to stem the jealousy that continued to course through his veins.
He picked at his food during the rest of the meal and ignored Fallon's attempts to communicate mentally. He left for Mrs. Sharpe's office before Olivia could intercept him.
Once inside, he sat on her couch and clutched his head in his hands. What the fuck is going on with me? Why should I care what Morgan does or doesn't do?
Within his mind, his beast roared. He's my mate. Mine!
“Fuck off,” Kisho warned through gritted teeth. He clamped down on the urge to shift just as Mrs. Sharpe arrived.
She smoothed down the light pink skirt of the suit she wore. The lighter color emphasized the richness of her dark skin. The pearls around her throat accented those at her ears and enhanced her femininity while contrasting against the power in her chocolate brown eyes. The older woman seethed with energy, and Kisho's beast withdrew under her withering stare.
“Much better.” She huffed her approval and sat across from Kisho in a hard leather chair.
“Now it's time you used that foresight for something more than fearful glimpses into your own future. I want you to close your eyes, breathe deep, and focus on Morgan.”
“Huh?”
“We both know you have strong feelings for the man, be they positive or negative. Don't focus on the feelings, focus on Morgan. He's the one who found Delancey first. So use him to leapfrog to Delancey. Trust me. This will work. Push your personal feelings aside, Kisho.” Her voice lowered. “I'm afraid that if we don't find your ex-captain soon, bad things will happen to the team. Bad for Gunnar, especially.”
“Tersch?” He stared at her, wide-eyed. “I never saw him hurt. Jules and me, but not Tersch.”
“Like I said before, the future changes all the time. It's fluid, Kisho. Now flow with it.” Kisho took a deep breath, prepared to look beyond his issues to help the team. He needed to do whatever it took to ensure his friends' protection.
He lay down on the couch, slowed his breathing, and allowed his mind to trace the familiar pattern that showed him a world and timeline beyond his own.
“That's it,” he heard Mrs. Sharpe say. “Nice and easy. Flow with it, son. That's my boy.” She used the comforting words whenever he went under, and it soothed him, the way a small child felt comforted by his mother. He tried not to think of it in that light, but under the influence of her soft speech, he relaxed—protected, safe—and reached into the tendril of tomorrow.
Morgan's handsome face smiled back at him, warmth overflowing in those green eyes. The feel of his slick body surging against Kisho's excited him, but he forced the feeling aside.
Because after the excitement the dread came, and he needed to look for Jules and Tersch, to help his friends escape death.
Kisho concentrated. Mrs. Sharpe's soothing voice blanketed him, and he looked deeper.
Pressed closer. Something very near, very soon. And it was important…
Chapter Six
Morgan gritted his teeth and wondered again why he'd agreed to let Hawkins tag along.
Jules was a pain in the ass, and not in a good way. The bastard tried to take charge of everything, and to a dominant male like Morgan, control meant everything.