Riven snapped his gaze away, trying to act unbothered. "Put on a shirt," he mumbled, though the words lacked any real bite.
Soren chuckled, his hand patting the spot beside him on the bed. "Come here," he commanded, his voice soft but firm.
Riven hesitated, knowing full well that he'd probably get pulled right back into that bed if he dared to go any closer. But something in Soren's gaze—soft, yearning, and almost vulnerable—made him relent. He walked over cautiously, only for Soren to grab his wrist and pull him down onto his lap.
Before Riven could even protest, Soren leaned in and kissed him again—this time slower, more tender, as if savoring his taste. Riven's heart fluttered, and he found himself kissing back, his hands sliding up to rest on Soren's shoulders. Soren's fingers traced the line of Riven's spine, drawing out a shiver that made Riven unconsciously arch closer.
