Neville could also feel himself. The wetness was gathering all over the place. It dampened his clothes with undeniable evidence of his body’s arousal.

If he didn’t pull away now, something would definitely happen.

Something that would make him fail his quest for a moment of pleasure.

I can’t!

Neville pushed against Grayson’s shoulders with sudden force, making his scales appear for a moment.

"W-Wait—"

Grayson looked up at him with eyes darkened with desire, clearly disoriented by the abrupt interruption. His black hair was even more disheveled than before. Probably because of him, though he couldn’t remember when that had happened. Grayson’s chest was heaving as sweat dripped down his chest.

The expression on Grayson’s face said it all.

We’re in the middle of having fun. Why are you getting away now?

But Neville pushed harder, scrambling backward with a desperation that left no room for hesitation.

Because of that, he felt his body falling backwards.

Oh no!

Neville closed his eyes, bracing for impact upon tumbling straight to the floor. But Grayson’s tail reflexively cushioned his fall, cradling his backside carefully like a fragile glass.

Neville took a moment to catch his breath.

While Grayson continued to stare at him with those dark eyes with an expression of a dog having been denied his treat, the ends of his tail were now loosely coiling around Neville’s ankle, clearly unwilling to let him go.

Okay. Think.

Neville forced his muddle-headed brain to function.

"I—" His voice came out hoarse, wrecked in a way. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I need to contact the company."

Grayson’s brow furrowed slightly. "The company?"

"Your rut," Neville explained, hating how breathless he still sounded. "I don’t know if it is on the schedule. If neither of us reports in for the next seven days, people will panic. Bryan will probably worry, and so will your family."

Grayson looked at him for a long moment, those silver eyes still darker than their usual shade but now containing a glimmer of rational thought.

Then his gaze dropped pointedly to Neville’s lap.

"You’re in heat."

"I—That’s not—" Neville felt his face burn. He wasn’t really on heat; he was just going with the flow and letting his instincts get ahead of him. Obviously, he couldn’t tell that to Grayson, who was in a rut. "It’s rut-induced! Your pheromones are affecting me. Once I have some distance, it’ll settle down."

The excuse was flimsy at best.

His body’s reaction was far too intense for simple pheromone influence; blame his 100% compatibility with this bastard. So Grayson shouldn’t be doubting him, especially since he was a dominant omega that should’ve been responding like a recessive. Basically, losing his mind over the dominant alpha pheromones.

But Grayson had no way of knowing that.

Grayson’s skeptical expression said he wasn’t entirely convinced. His eyes traced over Neville’s flushed face, his swollen lips, his disheveled clothes with a scrutiny that made Neville want to squirm.

Is he going to call my bluff? Is he going to drag me back onto the bed and—

GROOOOWL.

The sound that erupted from Neville’s stomach was thunderous.

Loud enough to echo several times in the bedroom.

Grayson blinked.

And Neville wanted to die, but was relieved.

"I..." He forced himself to meet those bemused silver eyes. "I didn’t eat anything before coming here. But I brought some ingredients. We could... eat."

For a long moment, Grayson simply stared at him.

Then, the corner of his mouth twitched.

If Neville didn’t know better, he would have sworn Grayson was fighting back a smile.

"Fine."

The single word carried the tone of resignation. Grayson rose from the bed with his tail, finally releasing Neville’s ankles. But instead of moving away or past him, Grayson walked directly towards him.

Neville tensed up, ready to flee.

Grayson simply bent down and, with surprisingly gentle hands, began straightening Neville’s clothes. The gesture was so unexpected that Neville froze.

His large fingers smoothed down the wrinkles in his shirt. He even tugged the hem back into proper alignment. He adjusted his collar until it no longer looked like he had been thoroughly ravaged earlier and tied his necktie in place.

Feeling satisfied with his work, Grayson straightened up and extended a hand.

Neville took it cautiously, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. He watched as Grayson put on a simple shirt to cover his bare chest.

"Kitchen," Grayson said lightly as he turned to look at him.

Neville walked out first, but before he could go further, Grayson caught up to him, grabbing his hand. They walked out of the long hallway towards the sleek, modern space that comprised the penthouse’s cooking area with intertwined hands.

Neville took exactly one step away from Grayson to give himself some distance when something coiled around his ankle. He looked down, and it was Grayson’s tail. It was wrapped snugly around one of his legs like a living shackle.

"Um—"

"Kitchen," Grayson repeated, tugging him along with his hand and his tail until Neville had no choice but to walk forward in an awkward waddle.

They made it to the kitchen like this, with Grayson leading and Neville half-walking, half-being-dragged behind him. By the time they reached the marble countertops, Neville’s already heated face had reached another shade of redness.

"Okay," he said, attempting to reclaim some dignity. "I’ll cook here and you can... sit somewhere... over there?"

He gestured vaguely toward the breakfast bar, and Grayson obediently released his hand.

Neville thought that Grayson listened too easily. But he knew that this man in this state wouldn’t listen that easily.

Instead of moving to some seat, Grayson simply stepped backward and then stepped forward even closer. He pressed his warm chest against Neville’s back, effectively trapping the smaller man between his bigger figure and the counter.

Neville looked up, uncomfortably craning his neck to meet Grayson’s gaze.

Grayson just tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with innocent askance that looked completely unconvincing. Then, as if he just realized something, he even wrapped both arms around Neville’s waist tightly.

Neville made a strangled sound.

"What—"

"This is fine, too," Grayson murmured against his hair.

"This is not fine!"