Page 21 of Siren in Love (In Love #1)

“I thought as a librarian, you could handle a little dust.”

“Only very clean dust settles on library books. This is gross dust. Spiders grow only in gross dust, Pineapple Mike. I’m sure Peter the Terrible will confirm.”

Mike snorted but let Corvin go. He pulled off his clothes and watched as Corvin settled back on the covers.

“Other people like breakfast in bed on Sundays.”

Corvin’s eyes glazed over with lust. “I’m not other people. And you’re not other people either. Where do you want me?”

Mike joined him on the bed, piled the pillows against the headboard, and leaned against them, settling in so he had a nice view.

“Between my legs, honey. I’ll watch you.”

Mike knew what a siren’s song could do to a human mind, but knowing what his voice alone did to Corvin, the man he loved, the man who had agreed to marry him, that was another power entirely.

Corvin smiled at Mike as he positioned himself. Morning light crested through the windows, gilding Corvin’s hair in copper and gold. Corvin bent down and opened his mouth, his eyes holding Mike’s.

Mike moaned with the first lick. Corvin tasted him, lapping up the beads of precum on Mike’s tip, and Mike started humming.

He’d learned to rein in his siren song, but it was especially difficult today.

They’d get married. They’d build a life together and share it.

Mike wanted to scream his joy to the world.

Corvin, Mike’s fiancé—his fiancé!—opened his mouth and took Mike in.

“This is how we first made love,” Mike said. “After you got stitches. I felt so bad that you were hurt.”

Corvin pulled off. “It wasn’t that bad. I had this uber-protective super-lawyer who took me to the hospital and scared the nurses. Want to have the engagement party at the Old Church? No large handbags allowed.”

“Perfect. Like you.”

“You know, if you keep talking and I keep talking, this—” He licked along the side of Mike’s cock. “—isn’t going to happen.”

Mike opened his mouth to sing, then snapped it closed. After a moment, he said, “Go ahead. I’m yours, all yours.”

Corvin licked his lips, grinned, then slid his mouth back over Mike’s cock. He had a way of using his tongue and hands in tandem that made his skill at swallowing Mike’s entire length almost secondary. Almost.

Mike could tell Corvin enjoyed setting the pace whenever he used his mouth like this, and he’d felt totally at the other man’s sweet mercy more than once. I’ve probably been at Corvin’s mercy since that first night, lured in with so fine a net not even a siren could have escaped it.

Mike didn’t want to escape. He felt Corvin’s mouth tighten as he worked Mike deeper, felt the back of Corvin’s throat, not quite soft, not quite hard. Corvin’s spit slicked Mike all the way, and the hint of teeth teased like the tongue of a whip, or an ice cube run over naked skin.

Corvin’s fingers had gone past Mike’s balls, using the spit from Corvin’s watering mouth to draw circles around Mike’s hole. Mike hummed with joy. Corvin pushed into him just as Mike had the human’s mouth.

Corvin found Mike’s prostate quickly, making Mike’s hips jerk. He looked down to make sure Corvin was okay, but the way he was sliding his mouth up and down now, he was more than that. He kept massaging Mike from the inside, intensifying the pleasure. Mike’s balls drew tight.

The sounds were what pushed Mike over the edge and into orgasm. That hungry sucking, the pleasured swish of slickened skin against tongue… It was too much. And at the same time, it would never be enough.

Mike shot everything he had into Corvin’s mouth.

A keening song broke from his lips. Through his melody, he could still hear Corvin swallowing what he could, although he soon looked up at Mike with wet lips and chin, want written plainly on his face.

Corvin got up on his knees, and with Mike never taking his eyes off him, Corvin got himself off, stroking himself, using his own hand while his eyes were on Mike, unblinking, like embers in the darkness.

Within moments, Corvin came on Mike’s chest and face. When he was done, he collapsed, sweat, cum, and spit mingling on the heated skin between them. Mike didn’t care. He wanted everything. Lust and the afterglow, all the messy bits in between.

He was ready to let the two of them doze off and catch up on the sleep they’d lost, but then he remembered he’d made plans for Valentine’s Day.

“Oh, shit,” he said, startling Corvin.

“Huh?”

“I forgot.” Mike extricated himself from under Corvin.

“Forgot what? Something back at the cotton mill?”

Mike shook his head as he walked over to the dresser, pulling open the drawer he kept his ties in.

The case was tucked away in the very back, under a sunflower yellow tie Mike had no memory of purchasing or ever wearing.

He walked back to the bed, slid back in next to Corvin, and held the case out to him.

“I know I’m still not on one knee, but—”

Corvin bounced upright. “You got me a ring?”

“I got us both rings. Stackable ones. Have a look.”

Corvin stared at the case for a moment, then snatched it out of Mike’s outstretched hand as if it were a rare book and flipped it open.

Mike had agonized over the engagement rings.

He knew Corvin’s quirky taste all right, but jewelry was different.

Corvin didn’t wear a ton. After much back and forth and secret image searches, Mike had settled on bands in polished silver, with bronze on the inside against the skin.

A thin line of darker tungsten ran around the rings, slightly off center.

For the wedding bands, they could either add another silver ring or a tungsten one with a line of silver, but those ones Corvin would have to choose, even if he didn’t know it yet.

Mike watched Corvin’s face carefully, and he knew he had chosen well when his fiancé’s eyes glazed over with the sheen of happy tears.

“Fuck,” he said. “Those are perfect.”

“Fuck? You mean thank you.” Mike had trouble keeping a straight face.

“You’re making me cry. And if a couple of rings make me cry, I’ll straight-up dissolve on the day of.” Corvin sniffled and wiped his eyes. “That’s going to look so bad in the photos.”

Mike laughed. There was simply nothing else to do other than pull Corvin close and kiss him.

“I’ll take you even if you turn into a puddle, honey.”

Corvin, shoved the case back at Mike. “Don’t say that. It’s probably bad luck to say it, like a self-fulfilling prophecy. Put it on me. You have to do it.”

Mike pulled the ring out, sized by guesswork and instinct, and slid it onto Corvin’s finger. It fit perfectly. It looked like it belonged there.

Corvin slid Mike’s ring on in turn, and they clasped hands, kissing deeply. I guess that morning nap will have to wait, Mike thought when their kisses turned heated again. Nothing wrong with spending Sunday in bed.