Tahki tensed. “The river?” He thought of the black cat, of Nii, of the kiss.
Rye’s arms broke free and he rubbed his jaw. “I—” He swallowed. “I know you were traumatized, and you didn’t know what you were doing. But I don’t want you to avoid me, or act weird around me. We can just pretend it never happened, if that’s what you want.”
Tahki frowned. “Avoid you?”
“I know it didn’t mean anything.”
“What didn’t?”
Rye met his eyes with apparent effort. “You kissed me.”
This time it was Tahki who looked away, though he didn’t feel ashamed of what he’d done.
“It’s all right,” Rye said. “I know it was a mistake. It’s why you didn’t mention it, why you acted scared when you saw me just now.”
Tahki couldn’t tell him he had looked scared because he’d been sneaking around the prince’s bedroom.
“Rye, you don’t understand.”
“I do understand,” Rye said. Every muscle in his body tensed. “We’re isolated out here, and the isolation can get to you in more ways than one. Even if you don’t feel the same way I feel about you, we can still be friends.”
Tahki sat stiffly. “Even if I don’t feel the same way?”
Rye swallowed. “No one has ever made me feel so confused, so angry, so nervous and excited as you do.” He took a breath. “It frustrated me that someone I hardly knew could make me feel all that. Then you kissed me, and I thought you felt the same. But I understand you made a mistake. We’re adults. It doesn’t have to be awkward.”
Tahki felt lucid then, a warm sensation dissolving through his body as he realized what Rye was telling him.
“Say something,” Rye said.
But Tahki had nothing to say, because the feelings Rye had described were exactly how he felt too. He smiled, picturing Rye practicing this speech, trying to sound both diplomatic and indifferent but instead coming off flustered and shy. Rye looked a little hurt, probably thinking Tahki was mocking him.
So Tahki rose from the bed, stood directly in front of Rye, grabbed his face between his hands, and drew their lips together. He had to crane his neck upward to reach. The kiss was sloppy, but he didn’t care. He pressed into Rye, and Rye pressed back. He wrapped his arms around Rye’s neck and pulled their hips together. The embrace felt both painful and passionate, like their need for each other turned all other sensations into ones of pleasure.
When they broke apart, Rye pushed Tahki’s shoulders gently, and he fell onto the bed. Rye removed his shirt. Tahki tugged his shirt off, too, but suddenly felt self-conscious. He’d never thought about the appeal of his own body. His adolescence had been spent closed in a dark room drawing. He’d immersed himself so deeply in architecture that things like sex and physical attraction hadn’t mattered. He’d been called pretty before, but pretty wasn’t what he wanted. Pretty was flowers and sunsets. No one ever craved pretty, not the way they craved lean muscles, a strong jaw, and disarmingly dark eyes like Rye had.
But Rye’s desire was apparent, and Tahki relaxed a little. No one had ever looked at him with such want. Rye ran his fingers along Tahki’s collarbone. A line of goose bumps rose in their wake. Tahki let out a small gasp and dug his fingers into Rye’s hair. He never thought another person’s hands could feel so good, could make his body react so strongly. He wondered if Rye felt the same pressure building in his lower abdomen.
Rye leaned down and kissed him. This kiss was skillful. Tahki parted his lips and their tongues met. A delicious humidity passed between them, sweat rolling off their bodies. Each kiss touched something deep inside Tahki, a buried passion he hadn’t known existed. Rye’s breath came in hot, ragged waves. His skin was smooth and pale in the light, his muscles flexing with each small movement.
Then Rye started to move down Tahki’s body. He kissed him on his neck, his shoulders, his chest, and his belly. Tahki tried to reciprocate, but each time he sat up, Rye pushed him gently back down. When Rye started to unbutton Tahki’s pants, Tahki lifted his legs a little, which prevented Rye from continuing. Rye pushed his legs down, but Tahki drew them back up.
Rye stopped. “Is something wrong?”
“No. Everything feels right.” Tahki panted lightly.
“Then why do you keep stopping me? Don’t you want this?”
Tahki frowned. “Of course. But you’re not letting me touch you the way you’re touching me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Every time I try to do something to you, you push me down. I just want to make you feel the way you’re making me feel.”
Rye lowered his eyes a little, uneasy now about something Tahki didn’t understand. He wished he’d kept quiet, let Rye do what he wanted, how he wanted.
“Right,” Rye said. “I guess that’s how it’s supposed to be, isn’t it? Two people together, trusting each other.”
Tahki didn’t know what he meant, but before he could ask, Rye grabbed his shoulders and yanked him up. He rolled over, so Tahki was on top now, Rye on his back.
“I’m all yours,” Rye said.
Tahki didn’t move. He straddled Rye, uncertain what to do. Clearly Rye felt uncomfortable letting Tahki have some control, and this was a gesture to show his trust. Tahki didn’t want to mess it up.
Rye watched him patiently. His hand slid up and down Tahki’s arm, stroking the skin in a gentle, sensual way. Tahki had no idea he could be aroused by such a simple touch.
He unbuttoned Rye’s pants and slid his hand in. It gave him a boost of confidence when he felt Rye’s arousal. He moved his hand quickly and kissed Rye’s neck. Rye moaned and unbuttoned Tahki’s pants.
“Like this,” Rye whispered
