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Pan drew back a little. “That was not very convincing.”

That’s because he didn’t know what he was diving into. “Fine, I will allow you to worship me by giving me a blow job.”

Pan rocked back, and Noah expected him to remove clothing.

He didn’t.

Every touch was through layers of fabric. Over his chest, his stomach, his thighs, but not where he wanted to be touched. He was tempted to guide Pan’s hand to his dick, but he’d agreed to let Pan do this his way.

Which meant every time he lifted his hand to touch him, it was gently moved away.

“You are not expected to do anything,” Pan murmured, as his fingers slid beneath Noah’s shirt and skated over his ribs, pushing up the shirt. Pan’s tongue licked a wet line from his navel up to one nipple.

Which was the wrong direction, but didn’t stop his back from arching for more. He wanted to do something. He couldn’t lie there and be worshipped.

Beyond the tent, the night quietened as most of the centaurs settled down for the night.

When Pan’s hand finally grazed his dick, Noah bit his lip to stay quiet, but his moan was still too loud in his ears. Aside from desperation, he wasn’t sure what else he should be feeling.

He lifted his hips, without Pan needing to say anything, and his jeans were peeled down, then pulled off. The cool air on his skin was a blessing but offered no relief from the heat in his blood. His dick pulsed with every heartbeat, leaking pre-cum onto his belly, and he existed only for each touch, and the promise of what was to come. He needed Pan to continue and never stop at the same time.

The soft caress of Pan’s lips along his aching shaft was almost too much. He sucked in a shuddering breath, not sure when his underwear had been removed. Things like that no longer mattered. Time didn’t matter.

His entire existence ebbed and flowed with the tide of desire.

Somehow Noah’s fingers threaded into Pan’s hair and held his horn as though it was the only thing keeping him grounded as the god’s tongue flicked over the head of his cock.

Each breath was a gasp as everything became too much. There was a whisper in him, around him, that he should let go and stop fighting.

What was he fighting? What was he trying to hold on to?

And if he let go, what would happen?

For a moment, he didn’t think he could give in. If he did, he’d never be the same again, but he couldn’t resist as lust consumed him. The whisper became a shout, drowning out every thought.

This is what it felt like to die. In the clarity of his last heartbeat, everything in the universe became clear. His life and all the paths he could’ve taken. The lives of everyone around him. The ripples and the holes, the ropes, and the weave. It glimmered golden around him and through him, all-encompassing.

He understood everything and nothing, yet the answer to every question was there. All he needed to do was…

It all broke apart.

“No,” he gasped as he reached for it, only to find nothing. No heart, no light, no magic.

What had he done wrong?

He opened his eyes to darkness. Then Pan’s mouth slid off his dick, and he looked up, his pupils filled with the golden light.

Noah needed it. He wanted it. He struggled to sit up, reaching for Pan and pulling him closer, claiming his lips and tasting himself on the god’s tongue.

Pan held his jaw, his eyes too bright to gaze at. “Sleep. Dream. Accept the gift of magic instead of hiding from it.”

CHAPTER27

Noah groaned and rolled over, aware that something wasn’t quite right but unable to put his finger on what. He cracked his eyes open, not sure where he was, only that it was daylight and he appeared to be in a tent not wearing any pants or underwear, and the blanket wrapped around him smelled like horse.

He also felt vaguely hung over, even though he hadn’t been drinking. There was a fuzziness in his mind when he thought about last night, as if he had been drinking, and the pulse in his temples indicated he hadn’t drunk enough water.

He was also alone in the tent.