Read Renner Morgan for Free Online Page B

his prick and climax. The visual combined with the feel of him drawing strongly of his blood had pushed Renner into a state of arousal unlike anything he’d ever experienced. He’d wanted to join him and shove his hand down his own trousers, but he didn’t because something about the situation felt different. With McBride, it was a relaxed kind of pull on his neck. It was a leisurely sipping that allowed Renner the time he needed to bring himself off. Not that he didn’t think he could get off with Quintus, because he knew that he could. One tug would splatter his seed all over the bed. But that was what compelled him to keep his hands off his cock. It didn’t feel the same with Quintus at all.
    As quickly as it started it was over. Quintus licked the wound closed and hastily covered his hips back up with the blankets. Renner lifted up and their gazes locked.
    “McBride was here.” Quintus looked toward the door then back at Renner.
    Renner’s heart slammed so hard in his chest he thought he was going to pass out. But then he said, “We didn’t do anything wrong.”
    “No?”
    “No. With your injury you should drink, eat, and then sleep.” But in Renner’s heart, it did indeed feel as if they’d done something wrong. He was certain that feeling came from the fact he’d lost his focus on what he was doing and allowed his hand to wander up Quintus’s hairy thigh. Renner looked toward the doorway and found a bottle of whisky tucked inside the room. He retrieved it and set it beside the bed. “If he was angry, I don’t think he would have left this.”
    “Is he in the habit of sharing his slammers with guests?”
    “I wouldn’t say it was a habit, but he’s a conscientious host. If a guest was in need, like you were, I don’t think he would deny him blood.” Renner knew that McBride was exceedingly generous. “He’s very giving. Even with his slammers. He promised all of us mates.”
    Something far deeper than shame washed down Quintus’s face. “Do you have a thrall?”
    “No.” Renner looked away. He was embarrassed not because he didn’t have a mate, but because he wanted to claim a gentryman as his mate. Or rather, he wanted Quintus to claim him. But that was madness. Quintus was here for McBride.
    “Given the state of the world, do you think he’ll be able to find you a thrall?”
    “I—I—” Rather than answer, Renner had shot to his feet. His intention was to go as quickly as he could, but he couldn’t leave without covering up Quintus’s injury. Hastily, he finished cleaning the wound, dressed it with healing unguents, and then placed a bandage over it. “There. You should sleep.”
    “Wait.”
    Before Renner could run off, Quintus captured his hand.
    “Thank you. For everything.”
    “You’re welcome.” Renner wanted to pull away, but he didn’t because there was something about Quintus’s touch that seemed to glue his feet to the spot.
    “I would ask you for one more favor.”
    Renner drew a steadying breath. He was desperate to go and deal with the throbbing erection in his trousers, but he didn’t want to be rude to a guest. If Quintus had never fed from a slammer, he might not understand that it was normal for the slammer to become aroused. Renner didn’t want to embarrass him if he didn’t know or embarrass himself by creaming without a single touch to his cock. Jonas and McBride had fed from him dozens of times, but Renner had never had a reaction like this.
    “Please.”
    Drawn by the plaintive need in his voice, Renner turned and knelt by Quintus’s bedside. “Anything.”
    Rather than ask, Quintus angled up just a bit and kissed Renner. Confused by competing instincts—one that told him to pull back and another that urged him to move closer—Renner stayed still and simply allowed the kiss to happen. Quintus’s lips were soft, but his days-old beard was sharp. The contrast of sensations seemed to add to the conflict. When Quintus parted his lips, Renner