Page 9 of Siren in Love (In Love #1)

Mike listened to Corvin, greedily drank up every tiny sound the other made, and soon, he felt Corvin twitch and come in his hand, hot cum spreading over Mike’s fingers. Mike made sure to stroke Corvin until there was nothing more he could give.

Corvin lolled against Mike, tight cheeks squeezing his cock. Mike knew an invitation when he felt one, so he pressed Corvin tighter against his chest, picked up the pace, and thrust until he came as well.

I…this… Too much. He’s… How …?

To call it intense would have been an understatement. Mike lost time. It was as if he and Corvin were both floating in some primordial ocean—underwater where sound traveled differently—their bodies as one, nothing between them but skin and salt.

Mike came back to himself slowly, once more seeing the sheets sticky with cum, feeling Corvin boneless in his arms, and hearing the small noises of the sleepy town around them.

It was a perfect culmination, a forte that echoed through Mike like a gong being struck.

He wanted to hold on to the high, but like any melody, this joy was fleeting.

It was part of why it felt so good, sounded so divine, and when Mike quietly and contentedly hummed against Corvin’s shoulder as he still held him close, all he could think was that he wanted to do this again.

More than once, I want to do this with him more than once.

Again and again. Only him. I want to forget about all the others — the dryad, the shifter, certainly the necromancer, and that one-night stand who was either a witch or a vampire.

“I hope you don’t do this with all your clients,” Corvin said, his back pressed against Mike. He was beginning to wiggle free from Mike’s hold.

Mike snorted and bit down gently on Corvin’s shoulder. “Jealous?” Or did you read my mind?

Corvin turned. “Maybe?”

Mike kissed the corner of Corvin’s mouth. “Don’t be.” He pulled out carefully. “I’m going to grab a towel. You lie down, okay?”

“Hmm. Telling me what to do again, Pineapple Mike?”

But Corvin was already reaching for a pillow, lying down happily, his eyelids at half-mast.

“I wouldn’t dare. Excuse me for a moment.”

“Hmm.”

There was sleepiness in Corvin’s voice—a hint of pain as well, but not the intense kind. He’ll be able to fall asleep, probably wake up in the morning feeling better already.

Mike quickly cleaned up in the bathroom before coming back with a washcloth and doing the same for Corvin.

“Do you want to take a painkiller before you go to sleep?” Mike was leaning over Corvin, who was clearly ready to drift off.

Green eyes blinked up at him, sleep already nipping at the corners. “Yeah, maybe.”

Mike rolled his eyes even as a smile pulled at his lips. He got Corvin a pill and a glass of water. While Corvin swallowed his painkiller, Mike turned off all the lights but the one next to the bed, then climbed under the sheets next to Corvin.

“You really are staying?” He sounded genuinely surprised.

“I am.”

“Wow.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

Mike took the half-empty water glass from Corvin’s hand and put it on the nightstand. “Why are you surprised?”

Corvin pressed his lips together tight before he said, “Because it’s hard to tell sometimes. Whether people really are what they say and seem to be.”

Mike opened his mouth. He wanted to tell Corvin everything about himself, wanted to make every promise he could to convince him that, yes, he was who he was; a siren who wanted him.

But he’s not a siren. Words and song mean nothing to him because humans don’t live in rom-coms where the extras are background singers and the emotions live in the lyrics.

“How about I show you who I am? I said I’d make you breakfast, so I’ll make you breakfast. And then I’ll take you on a second date.”

“For confession?”

Mike nodded. “Yeah.”

Corvin was quiet for a moment, giving all the doubts and fears Mike suddenly found himself with room to dig their thorns into him. But then he simply nodded and said, “Okay.”

“Okay then.”

Mike turned off the lamp by the bed, and in the dark room, finding just the perfect configuration of arms and legs entwined was easy as the tides. Corvin rested his head on Mike’s shoulder as if it were the perfect spot, like a siren’s favorite rock to sit on while they sang.

Mike was about to drift off himself when Corvin suddenly jerked up. “Oh shoot!”

“What?! Does your head hurt?” Mike was struggling to find the light switch.

“No, it’s not that. What are you doing?”

“Light switch.”

In the dark, Corvin managed to find Mike’s wrists and held them tightly. “Don’t need light. I just realized I forgot to make a joke about your carrot. The moment was so perfect when I was blowing you.”

In the darkness, there was no way Corvin could see Mike’s slack-jawed expression, but even so, he started giggling like a little kid.

“Those meds are good, huh?”

“Not as good as your carrot, Pineapple Mike. Also, hush.”

“Didn’t like when I told you that?”

“No, it was fine.” Corvin lay back down and Mike followed, if only because he wanted to offer his shoulder again. “Also, I like your carrot.”

“Fuck, please don’t call it that.”

“I’ll take that under advisement.” Sleep was thick in Corvin’s voice, and he fell quiet after that.

Mike listened for a while longer. Corvin’s breathing in harmony with his own in the darkness. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.