Before Neve could process what that meant, Cael pushed him backwards until he was lying on the straws. He grabbed Neve's thighs, pushing his legs up and apart, exposing him completely. Neve cried out, trying to close his legs, but Cael was immovable.
"Cael, wait—!"
"I've waited long enough." Cael bent his head.
The first swipe of his tongue over Neve's entrance was so shocking and intimate that Neve screamed. It wasn't pain. It was a white-hot lance of pleasure so acute it bordered on agony. Cael's tongue was rough, like a cat's, and unbearably hot. He licked and probed, lapping at the tight furl of muscle until it was wet and loose and Neve was sobbing into the furs, his back arched, his fingers clawing at nothing.
