She huffed and left.
Fallon shrugged. “She can say what she wants, but that Anderson guys rubs me the wrong way. The last time he visited I got a weird vibe. I don't like the way he looks at her.”
“You don't like the way anyone looks at her,” Morgan reminded him.
Fallon surprised him with a sheepish grin. “True. But hey, my woman, my right. I have to talk to Jules. Look after Kisho, okay? Oh, and just a warning. Tersch has some ugly thoughts you might want to watch out for. He wasn't too happy you juiced Ava to get better, and he's gonna nail your ass soon as you're walking.”
Morgan groaned. “Tell him to get in line behind Mrs. Sharpe.”
“Can do. And you know, since Mrs. Sharpe doesn't have anyone to speak up for her, I think I'll take a whack at you on her behalf. After Tersch, of course.” Fallon grinned. “Get better soon. You're going to need all the help you can get.” He left and closed the door behind him.
Morgan didn't much care about the threat of retribution. He deserved it; no matter that he hadn't intended to hurt anyone in his zealous pursuit of survival.
Kisho moaned and brushed a hand against Morgan's side. Morgan's body hardened in response. Every place the sheets touched set him ablaze. He couldn't wait any longer. Morgan turned on his side to see Kisho. He wore nothing but jeans and lay on top of the bed. Had Kisho put himself there, or had one of the others tossed the sick patients together? Why the blanket between them? Did the others—did Kisho—really think cotton could keep them apart?
Gently easing out from under the blanket, Morgan shifted his legs over the side of the mattress and took his time standing. The burns and breaks in his body had healed. Alicia was right when she said he wouldn't have a bruise or a scar by tomorrow.
Morgan never got sick, never hurt for long, and could heal himself from near-death under the right circumstances. Like having a psychic lover who also happened to be superhuman. The energy Kisho generated was mind-boggling, intense, and more than a little scary.
Morgan walked gingerly to Kisho's bathroom and took care of nature's call. As he showered, he wondered about his fierce attraction to his future mate. There was no denying Kisho's beauty. Smooth, pale skin. Silky dark hair that framed a face made for seduction. Those exotic eyes, so dark, slanted just enough to show Kisho's Asian ancestry. Firm lips, high cheekbones, and that firm, square jaw. Christ, he didn't even need to start thinking about Kisho's incredible body. Those tight abs, that long, thick cock.
Morgan bit back a groan and ignored his raging hard-on. The time for distance had ended.
He wanted Kisho, and his little fox wanted him just as badly. He knew it. Kisho knew it. Time to stop playing games. If anything, Morgan's brush with death had shown him that there might not be a next time. So why wait to share what he felt?
After finishing his shower, he dried off and left his towel behind. The cool air on his body should have cooled his ardor, but if anything, the contrast to his body heat encouraged his arousal. He rejoined Kisho and simply stared.
Big, but not as big as me, Morgan thought with satisfaction. As a Circ, Kisho would top him. But now, here, Morgan ruled. Always a dominant lover, he'd occasionally let himself be taken, if only to prepare himself for his kitsu. He wasn't sure how Kisho would want it, but Morgan promised himself not to disappoint.
Though he'd made love to men and women throughout the years, he preferred men. And he liked them big—not small, effeminate boys, but strong, strapping fighters.
“You are so my type,” he whispered and stroked a finger over Kisho's cheek.
Kisho didn't stir, but Morgan tired of waiting. He dug into the nightstand beside the bed and took out a tube of lube and a few condoms, items he'd found when he'd snooped a few days ago. Fuck, but he wanted to lube himself up and shove hard and fast into Kisho's tight ass. But he wouldn't take, not now. This first time would be all about giving. He knew what the Circs needed from their mates.
Morgan grinned, trying to imagine how Kisho would take the news that they had more in common than anyone knew. Kisho moaned in his sleep and slid his hand down to his crotch.
Amusement faded as passion took over. Hell, he's sporting a big one. My pretty little fox isn't so little. He'd better be dreaming of me.
Needing his lover naked, Morgan unbuttoned Kisho's jeans and slowly eased down the zipper, made tight because of his fat cock. He watched Kisho's face, waiting for him to awaken, but the sexy male didn't stir.
Morgan removed the pants and tossed them aside. So perfect, and all mine.
He lay on the bed on his side next to the handsome Circ. Then he ran a callous hand over Kisho's jaw, his throat, down to his nipples that stiffened with arousal. Morgan's mouth watered, and he leaned closer to take one nub in his mouth.
Kisho groaned, deep in his throat, and slowly blinked his eyes open.
“Morgan?” he whispered. “Am I still dreaming?”
Morgan grinned, latched on to a nipple, and sucked hard. Good. He was dreaming of me. A glance down Kisho's body showed a thick drop of cum pearling at the tip of his cockhead. So damned pretty.
Kisho shifted and placed a hand on Morgan's cheek. “Fuck. Oh man, Morgan. Touch me.” Morgan stroked his abdomen while he worked Kisho's nipples. The plane of his lover's chest and belly rippled with muscle. So strong, so firm. Morgan teased with his nails, scratching down Kisho's belly toward his cock, but never stopping to touch the enticing flesh.
His lover squirmed and pleaded in breathy moans, but he didn't deny their play. Morgan shifted closer and let go of Kisho's nipple. He stared down at slumberous brown eyes regarding him with sheer need.
Not sure who moved first, Morgan met Kisho's mouth and kissed with all the passion he had inside him. A dueling battle commenced, tongues and lips taunting for dominance while Morgan rubbed his chest against Kisho's. He remained half on, half off his lover, trying to remain in control. Morgan knew that once his cock touched any part of Kisho, he'd have a hard time stopping himself from mounting and fucking him.
A deep rumble vibrated in Kisho's chest. Not a purr, a challenging growl.
“Want to play?” Morgan murmured against the corner of Kisho's mouth.
“Yeah,” Kisho breathed back and tried to muscle Morgan under him.
But Morgan wouldn't give him the upper hand. He shoved Kisho down and called on his own strength to pin Kisho's hands on either side of him. But the movement had unintended consequences. In doing so, Morgan blanketed Kisho's body, and the moment his cock rubbed against Kisho's, he lost it.
“Fuck, oh fuck.” He kissed Kisho with a desperation Kisho returned. They rubbed against each other, humping as each strained to release. Morgan pressed harder, forcing Kisho to spread his legs as he tried to angle for penetration. It barely dawned on him to lube up, that dry, he might hurt his lover. And then reason returned when Kisho whispered his name, a plea to end their torment.
The sudden slack under him broke through the hunger.
Kisho closed his eyes and turned his head, baring his throat. Another conscious gesture of submission.
“You're mine. Say it.” Morgan hurried to grab the lube, but as he straddled Kisho, the Circ surprised him by taking charge.
“Yours, hmm?” Kisho gripped Morgan's waist and pulled him closer. “Give me a taste to remind me.” He stared at Morgan's cock and licked his lips.