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Val's body saw the possibilities here immediately, and his morning erection perked up at the oh-so warm pressure. However, that reaction exacerbated a different problem, one that was even more delicate given the circumstances. Normally, Valerian had almost complete control of his need to feed. But for some reason, his iron will melted away in Raine's presence. He knew, knew that even broaching the subject right now was the worst thing that he could do. But after what happened last time, he was afraid giving into his increasingly burning desire would trigger another frenzied attack.

His hands rose of their own accord and settled on Raine's morning-warm skin, just above the elastic waist of his boxer briefs. Val closed his eyes and savoured the feel of Raine's cock aligned with his, holding onto Raine in counter-pressure while circling his hips upwards in little thrusts. With only the thin material of their briefs between them, Val could feel the heat of Raine's shaft, the moist warmth of the growing spot of pre-cum soaking into the fabric. He imagined the smooth heat of the skin hidden from view, and suddenly couldn't wait another minute to feel that weight in his palm. His slid his hands smoothly, fingers first, under the waistband and down Raine's hips, his thumbs learning Raine's hipbones in passing before he reached around to cup his firm, bare buttocks.

"This is where things got out of control last time, wouldn't you agree?"

Val's eyes flew open at the unexpected and incredibly coherent question. He tried to get his brain to formulate an answer, but couldn,t manage more than, "Uh.."

Raine sighed heavily, "I can see that I'm going to have to have conversations with you before you're turned on. Obviously, all the blood must leave your big head when you're aroused or something."

Val couldn't agree more. He could barely process what Raine was saying, only revelling in the fact that he was still sitting on top of Val's pulsing cock. He continued to push up against Raine, now trying in earnest to remove Raine's tight briefs without letting him move off his cock, an impossible task, unless he were to rip them...

He turned thought into deed, and three yanks later, the briefs were in tatters and Raine's erection popped up, slapping against his own belly, leaving a dab of pre-cum behind. Before he even consciously decided to, he reached out and rubbed the spot off with the pad of his thumb, bringing it to his mouth for a lick. He watched those celadon eyes darken with desire as Raine focused on Val's tongue sliding over his thumb, cleaning it of Raine's cum.

The musky, briny taste, with the same notes as Raine's amazing blood, hit his senses like a shot of adrenaline. Val reacted without thought, flipping Raine over, grinding down against him as he reversed their positions.

"If you're going to nail me with those teeth again, you're going to have to let me suck you off first. Take it or leave it."

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Kyrian watched with keen interest as the high-strung agent practically shoved the potential buyer out the door. He couldn't stifle a chuckle as a strange wince of discomfort crossed the man's face.

Oooh, not nice, Kyrian. You'd better watch it. One of these days you're going to laugh at the wrong person.

It was his worst fault unfortunately, schadenfreude, which had caused him no end of trouble over the years. He just couldn't help laughing at inappropriate times. An automatic reaction to anything unusual.

His victim whipped around, and for a moment, Kyrian thought his day of reckoning had actually come. But the dangerous, feral glint in those dark eyes changed in quick succession to shock then something like distaste.

A born people-pleaser, Kyrian felt a stab of disappointment at the look of disdain. He glanced down at himself in reflex to check his appearance. Nothing obviously out of place. He was actually dressed fairly nicely for a day at home. Maybe the guy just didn't like shaggy hair. He was very clean-cut, bordering militaristic in his grooming, severely shaped almost black hair with a hint of wave to it above a smoothly shaven face.

A man's lips moved, and that's when Kyrian realised that Michael Franti and Spearhead were still happily Say Heying in his ear. He quickly pulled out the earpieces.

"Hi there. Sorry about laughing. I don't know why I did that."

Tall, Dark and Dangerous narrowed his eyes, apparently at the reminder of Kyrian's faux pas, and said something incomprehensible in a deep, almost gravelly voice. Ah ha, a foreigner.

"No comprende," he apologised.

His visitor actually rolled his eyes in disgust. At him! Kyrian would've jumped to his feet to tell him off if he didn't have the flipping cast on his ankle.

His visitor angrily spouted off more gibberish in whatever language he was speaking, and Kyrian rolled his own eyes in response, which apparently wasn't very well received since suddenly the man was looming threateningly over him.

Trapped in the chaise lounge, at his mercy, Kyrian could only freeze and hope the man wouldn't get violent.

Holding out his hands in what he hoped was the universal symbol for wait a sec, he tried placating the aggressor. "Hey, hey, I'm sorry, okay? I. Don't. Understand. You," he enunciated. Using basic body language, he thumped his chest, shook his head, and tapped his temple as he tried Tarzan-esque simplicity. "Me no understand."

"Oh for fuck's sake!" The man threw up his hands as if Kyrian was the one acting like an idiot.

"Geez, why didn't you just speak English in the first place? That would be the logical language to start with considering the country we're in." Kyrian snarked as he tried to keep his lips from twitching into another inappropriate smile. The whole thing really was pretty funny in a weird way. "I'm Kyrian."

"Kyrian...?" the other man prompted.

Kyrian quirked his brow. Liked to get formal, did he? "De Angelo."

The other man winced and groaned, "Oh, that's fucking original," and shook his head with a huff.

What the heck? "Say buddy, where do you get off laughing at my name? And you haven't told me your name to make fun of."

"I'm Seth."

"Seth...?" Kyrian mocked Seth's earlier tone.

He shrugged with a deliberate smirk. "Just Seth."

Kyrian gasped with outrage and was about to attempt rising to confront him, cast or no cast, when Seth leaned closer to him and inhaled. No two ways about it-he sniffed him. Okay, this was getting a bit odd, even for him. He needed to nip this visit in the bud.

"Okay, just Seth." Kyrian watched warily as a contented look crossed the man's face for the first time, turning it into something serene and beautiful. "Thanks for visiting the house. Hope you liked it. Uh..."

Seth dropped to his knees, heavily lidded eyes locked on Kyrian's startled ones, and wasted no time in claiming a toe-curling, bone-melting kiss...

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At once overwhelmingly curious about his visitor, Vance knelt again and slowly pulled the blanket completely away from the male's head and upper body. And stared. The unconscious shifter was by far the most attractive man he'd ever seen. Accustomed to the huge, craggy features of his pride, he was entranced by the beautiful, angelic lines of his face. From checking his pupil reaction earlier, Vance knew his eyes were green-”another anomaly. Almost every other shifter he'd met had some form of brown or golden eyes like himself.

His shoulders and chest were lightly muscled and defined-very masculine, but carrying a lot less bulk than Vance was used to seeing. A tattoo in some sort of abstract, tribal-looking design covered most of one deltoid. He was drawn to it, and after closer examination, he noticed how cleverly the form of a cat was woven into the seemingly random lines at the centre of the design.

His skin, too, was different. Very light, smooth-looking. Vance tested the shoulder with the tat. Yes, smooth and soft, with no discernable body hair below the neck-”at least for the parts on display. Flushing, he had to restrain himself from removing the blanket entirely to check the rest of his person.

His colour deepened when he realised that he was still stroking the tattoo, and he quickly snatched his hand away. Needing something to keep himself occupied, he drew the blanket back over the males shoulders and stood restlessly. He decided to take inventory of his supplies, something he hadn't bothered to do for a while. When it was just him, it didn't matter. But a part of Vance nudged him, whispering that it was important to be prepared, that the male might be here a while.

Unused to company in his cave, Vance found his gaze drifting back to the huddled form as he worked. Frowning, he wondered whether the fire was doing any good at all. If he was drugged, he might not be able to regulate his temperature normally in either direction.

Better check him...I mean, his temp out. Don't want him uncomfortable. Part of him was gleeful about having a reason to touch the male again.

He's unconscious, drugged, and most likely straight.

And gorgeous. Don't forget gorgeous.

Stop it!

Vance knelt again by the male, the position becoming a familiar one. He raised a hand, thinking to feel the back of his guest's neck to try to gauge his temperature. But just as he was about to make contact with the male's exposed nape, he suddenly found himself flat on his back, a knee firmly pressed to his chest...