Big and Small [Supernatural Royalty 3] (Siren Publishing Classic ManLove) by Tedi Sinclair

Author:Tedi Sinclair
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance
Published: 2013-10-22T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Once finished discussing Alaric’s story with Brighid, Tristan teleported them back to his apartment. “Do you need to get items from your home?” Tristan stopped mid-stride and gazed upward. “Where is your home?”

“I have an apartment here in the city, and several places around the world. I like the variety. But I do need clothes from there as I can’t keep expecting you to buy new ones.”

“Buy? I don’t know what you mean?”

Alaric raised his brow at Tristan’s feigned innocence. “Please, I know they’re not yours. They better not be an ex’s. And I saw the tags in the bathroom trash.” Alaric stalked toward Tristan with each argument.

Tristan raised his hands in defense as he backed away. “I couldn’t very well leave you lying around naked, could I?”

“Hmm, that idea has merit though.” Alaric pulled his torn shirt off and threw it at Tristan’s head. Tristan tangled in the long loose cloth, giving Alaric the advantage he needed. Alaric rushed at Tristan and tossed him over his shoulder. “Now I’ll show the merit of being naked.”

Alaric dropped Tristan to the bed. He stepped back and took off his tattered pants and underwear in one motion, letting them drop. He reached toward Tristan. “Now you.” He held his hand out waiting for each piece of clothes.

Tristan handed over his shirt quickly, but when he reached for his pants, he slowed. His earlier fears slammed back into him, and suddenly he didn’t want Alaric to see his thinner frame. He was young enough still as a supernatural that he had no chest hair. He had a few muscles but he never tried to build them up, and he had only just finished what he hoped was his last growth spurt.

“Tristan, I love your body just as it is because it’s yours.” Alaric had not pulled his hand back. He wanted Tristan even though Tristan couldn’t really understand why. He didn’t have the muscles of a giant or the physique of the other demigods. “If you don’t hand over your clothes, I’ll take them.” His brows waggled with his playful threat.

Tristan hesitated. Alaric clambered onto the bed as Tristan scrambled backward. Quickly, he pinned Tristan beneath him. He held Tristan’s hands above his head. “You, Tristan O’Dagdan, are silly. If I didn’t want you, I would never have kissed you days ago. You’re handsome, attractive, and you’re mine. That is all that matters.”

Alaric kissed Tristan and pulled his lower lip in with slow drags. Tristan felt as though he was being consumed, and he relished being Alaric’s meal. He twisted his wrists in the confines of Alaric’s grasp, but Alaric never relinquished. He pulled out of the kiss and stared at Tristan. “I’m never letting you go. Do you understand?”

Tristan nodded. His tongue slipped out to taste the remnants of Alaric’s kiss, and he drew his abused lip into his mouth. His breathing was fast, matching his racing heart. Alaric’s stares felt like a physical caress, each glance of his eyes warmed a part of Tristan’s body.

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