Rowan swallowed hard, his dark eyes wide and glazed as Kaelen gently pulled his legs a little wider apart.
The cool air briefly hit Rowan's exposed skin, making him shiver, but then Kaelen's palm—slick and thoroughly warmed by the natural mountain herb oil—settled flat against his inner thigh, smoothing upward with a slow, heavy pressure that made Rowan's entire body go rigid with shock.
"Ah—" Rowan choked out a small, breathless gasp, his fingers instantly knotting deep into the bedsheets.
Julian's words were playing like a strict manual in Kaelen's head: Use your fingers first—one, then slowly two—to stretch and relax his tight walls... You need to keep him talking, keep him distracted.
Kaelen pressed a light, reassuring kiss to Rowan's flushed cheekbone, his scruff scratching lightly against the aide's soft skin.
"Is it too cold?" Kaelen asked quietly, his thumb tracing a soothing circle right against Rowan's hip to keep his mind busy.
