The moment has a dreamlike quality to it. Everything’s a little strange around the edges. Not for the first time, he thinks of heat stroke. Of losing the thread and those lines he’s tried so hard to avoid. And then those thoughts fall away with how good Henry feels under him, and how much Gabe wants to bite him suddenly. Mark him.

Gabe drags his teeth along Henry’s neck, his eyes half-lidded. No. He’s in control. This is a choice. This is his choice. No one gets to take that from him.

He rolls his hips again, arching his back.

“Then come for me,” he murmurs, and nips at Henry’s ear. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to feel.