A hand fisted in Cyrus’s hair, tipping his head back, and Cassius licked a long line up his throat before he brought his mouth to his ear and said, “On your knees, Cyrus. Make it sloppy so I can take what’s mine.” That was the moment all coherent thought left. As he sank to his knees, Cass pulled Cyrus’s tunic over his head, burning away the rest of their clothing, before planting a palm on the wall above them. His hips rolled forward again, his tip brushing along the seam of Cyrus’s lips. And because he was who he was, Cyrus smirked up at him before he flicked the tip of his tongue over his
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