Chapter 2: Kieran and the Boy

Kieran purred with pleasure at the sight presented to him. His lover, all smooth skinned and pale, stretched out on his side. His skin glowed against the black and red silks of Kieran's big bed. Kieran quelled the noise low in his throat. His lover was a very light sleeper, and he did not wish to wake the poor boy yet. Kieran paced his silent, cat-footed way around the bed which stood in the centre of the big room, examining his lover from all angles.

The boy in the bed, unaware that he was being watched by lustrous blue eyes, shifted in his sleep, the long fall of his autumn brown hair spread out on the pillow like a halo. A strand fell into his face making his nose wrinkle in a way that struck Kieran as adorable. He reached out one black furred hair and flicked away the offending lock, surprised that the boy hadn't woken.

But of course, Kieran kept his thoughts small, not wanting to broadcast his lust to his sleeping lover's mind just yet, He is tired from last night.

The great black cat watched the sleeping boy, his eyes caressing the lines the pale limbs made against the silks. He had never seen his lover naked before. Last night his eyes had been too clouded by lust to build up any kind of coherent picture. He had simply committed the boy's eyes to memory, the look in them and the sound of his mental voice telling Kieran he loved him. But the enchanting green eyes were closed now and Kieran was at liberty to explore other things.

His eyes travelled over his lover, taking in every detail, from the arch of his instep to the paler than pale scar low on the boy's abdomen he had never seen before. On his other hip was a tattoo, black ink hard against his skin, of a wolf's head silhouetted against the moon. It was hard to believe as he slept, so soft and fragile seeming, that all about the boy when he was awake was like the wolf. The one on his hip and the silver one he wore strung around his tender throat at all times. His neck tasted of leather and metal and cinnamon, part of the scent that made him up. Kieran smiled with delight every time his nostrils scented that fragrance anew.

When his lover was awake his movements made his body seem bigger, stronger, all taut muscle and hard sinew. But asleep his was all soft shallow curves, the concave above his groin, the soft arch underneath his ribcage, the curve of his arm as he slept, the knuckles of one hand resting over his shuttered eyes. There was too the curve of his back, interrupted by his strong shoulder blades and finished by the smooth roundness of his arse. Kieran felt his cock twitch in remembered passion but quelled the feeling a little and settled on the edge of the bed to watch the gently rise and fall of his lover's breathing.

For a few minutes the pair of them, one light, one dark, were the statuesque tableau but for the constant swaying of Kieran's long tail. Then the boy in the bed stretched, still very much asleep and Kieran's eyes travelled down his body again and his gaze caressed the hard curve of his lover's erection. Kieran chuckled and let out a soft purr as the boy settled back deeper into his dreamless sleep. Kieran put his hand to his throat, closed his eyes, raised his dark eyebrows and let out a soft hum. The vibrations against his palm guaranteed his idea and he slinked across the bed without a sound. He breathed warmth onto his lover's cock and flicked out his agile pink tongue to stroke the hard flesh. The boy tasted just as good to Kieran as he had hoped he would. Without hesitation the great cat, mindful of his fangs, pulled his lover's member into his mouth, and began to hum as he stroked him with his tongue.