CHAPTER 307: REVERE YOU

Soren couldn’t help it, he pulled Riven even closer, almost crashing onto his chest. He knew he should push him away, that it would probably be smarter to let Riven have some space, but the moment he felt that warmth, that steady heartbeat under his cheek, he just...Couldn’t.

He pressed his ear against Riven’s chest and closed his eyes, breathing him in. The steady rhythm of Riven’s heart was like an anchor, something that kept him from spiralling completely.

Riven sighed and wrapped his arms around Soren’s head, fingers sliding through his hair in gentle, calming strokes. He kept petting him like he was soothing a scared animal.

"You know," Riven murmured, his voice soft and warm above Soren, "I already know a lot about you. About how you think. About what you’ve done."

Soren’s fingers twitched against Riven’s waist, then slowly dug in, hard enough to make Riven flinch. Not because it hurt, though it did a little, but because he could feel the raw emotion behind it.

"You say that," Soren said, voice low and rough, "but you don’t know the kind of thoughts that cross my mind."

Riven was quiet for a moment. His hand paused in Soren’s hair. He was thinking—really thinking.

Yes, he knew yanderes were obsessive, possessive, sometimes cruel. He’d seen it firsthand. He’d heard all the rumours about Soren, and he’d lived through enough to know how far he could go if pushed. He also knew what Soren had done to Eli—the lengths he’d gone to in order to keep Riven all to himself.

But...

Every time Soren crossed a line, he regretted it. Every time he made a mistake, he tried to learn from it. He never repeated it. And no matter what else, he had never once forced Eli in the story, and never tried anything with him.

Riven drew in a slow breath, gathering his courage.

"Well, yeah," he said finally, a little hesitant but determined. "I don’t know every thought you’ve ever had. But I know you wouldn’t hurt me."

He hesitated and looked down, meeting Soren’s eyes. They were so dark and serious it almost made his knees weak.

"...Would you?"

Soren was silent. The corners of his mouth curved, not in a kind smile but in something sharper, a little dangerous. His gaze dropped to Riven’s lips.

Then he let out a deep, rumbling chuckle that vibrated right against Riven’s skin.

Riven shivered. God, why did that sound have to be so unfairly hot?

"Not..." Soren murmured, his voice dipping lower, "...without your consent."

Riven froze. It took a second, just one stupid second, for him to realise what Soren meant. And then his entire face went red, bright enough to probably rival a sunrise.

"You—!" He smacked Soren’s shoulder with one hand, not hard, just enough to make his point. "That’s not what I meant!"

Soren only laughed again, a little softer this time. He turned his head and pressed a warm kiss just over Riven’s heart, his breath making Riven’s skin tingle.

"I know," Soren said quietly. "But I needed to hear you say it."

Riven’s throat felt tight, but in a good way. He slid his fingers back into Soren’s hair and let out a shaky sigh.

"You’re an idiot," he whispered, voice thick.

He leaned back just enough to look up at Riven properly. His eyes were still dark, still intense, but there was something vulnerable there too. Like he was waiting for Riven to pull away, to take it all back.

Instead, Riven cupped Soren’s face in both hands and brushed his thumbs over the high, sharp line of his cheekbones.

"I’m not going anywhere," Riven said softly.

Riven swallowed and managed a tiny, crooked smile. "You’re staring again," he teased, voice soft.

Soren’s lips curved, too. "I’m allowed," he murmured, brushing his nose against Riven’s. "You’re mine."

Riven felt his heart skip a beat—stupid, how just a few quiet words could make him feel so warm all over.

"Of course." Riven rolled his eyes, though he enjoyed it.

Soren leaned in, and Riven closed his eyes without thinking.

The kiss was nothing like Soren’s usual hunger. It was slow, so slow Riven almost thought he was imagining it. Their lips barely touched at first, a light brush that made his breath catch in his throat.

Soren shifted closer, his big hand sliding up to cradle Riven’s jaw, thumb stroking gently under his cheekbone. He pulled Riven’s face a little closer, just enough to deepen the kiss.

Riven’s whole body felt warm and tingly, like he was melting from the inside out. He kissed Soren back, matching that soft, unhurried pace. Their mouths moved together, quiet and careful, as if they were both afraid to break the moment.

Soren let out a small, shaky exhale against Riven’s lips. "You feel... So," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "I kept thinking... Maybe you wouldn’t come back to me."

Riven’s chest ached. He pulled back just far enough to look into Soren’s eyes—so dark and earnest it made his throat tight.

"I see you’re not the best with words," Riven chuckled.

Soren huffed a quiet laugh, and before he could reply, Riven kissed him again.

This time it was a little deeper. He opened his mouth just a little, enough to taste Soren’s breath—warm and familiar, with the faintest hint of mint tea. Soren’s hand slid back into his hair, threading through the strands and holding him close.

Riven was no longer standing, he put his weight onto the chair and completely let himself get taken by Soren.

Their lips danced together—tentative at first, exploring the sweet curves and soft contours, but soon they were hungry for more.

Soren’s hands travelled up Riven’s back, fingers brushing against the fabric of his shirt, feeling the heat radiating from his skin. With a swift tug, he slipped his hands beneath the material, relishing the sensation of Riven’s smooth skin against his calloused palms.

A shiver ran through Riven as Soren’s fingers traced the muscles beneath, igniting a thrill that sent a rush of desire coursing through them both.

Riven deepened the kiss, his tongue teasingly sweeping against Soren’s, seducing him and trying to get him to let go of all restraint. Soren responded eagerly, pressing his body against Riven’s. The chair creaked slightly, the only sound in the dimly lit room besides their soft gasps and the rush of breath that filled the air around them.

As their kiss grew more fervent, Riven’s hands slid beneath Soren’s thighs, pulling him closer, while Soren’s fingers tangled in Riven’s hair, the strands silky between his fingertips. Riven’s knee shifted slightly, creating a delicious friction that made Soren’s breath hitch.

"You feel amazing," Soren murmured against Riven’s lips, his voice husky with desire. Riven smiled, a wicked glint in his eyes, as he took the opportunity to explore further. He slid his hands up Soren’s sides, he was returning the favour, savouring the way his muscles tensed under his touch.

His knee kept moving slightly, touching and nudging Soren’s cock.

With every brush of skin, the air crackled with electricity. Soren pulled back slightly, his gaze locking onto Riven’s, searching for permission. Riven gave a small nod, his eyes dark and inviting. Soren leaned in again, capturing Riven’s mouth with a fierce urgency, as if he were trying to drown in the sensation, as if nothing else mattered but this connection between them.

Soren could feel the heat rising within him as Riven’s knee jerked against him, a tantalising jolt that sent a shiver of pleasure racing through his body. He hissed softly, a mix of surprise and desire, and looked into Riven’s eyes. "You should know the consequences of teasing me like that," he said, his voice low and filled with promise.

Without another word, he lifted Riven effortlessly, placing him gently but firmly on the table in his study. The cool surface contrasted sharply with the heat radiating off their bodies, and Riven blushed, anticipation swirling in his gaze. The moment hung heavy between them, brimming with unspoken desires.

Soren felt a rush of urgency as he leaned in, his hands gripping Riven’s shirt. With a swift, deliberate tug, the fabric tore away, it did not even put up a fight. The sound was both satisfying and thrilling, and Riven gasped. Though it wasn’t unexpected.

There was a reason why he wore a simple white shirt, it’s easy to rip, and it’s cheap enough that he won’t feel bad when it eventually gets ripped off of him.

Soren paused for just a moment, taking in the sight before him—Riven’s flushed skin, the way his breath hitched. He couldn’t hold back any longer. He leaned down, pressing his lips to Riven’s neck, kissing a slow, heated trail down toward his collarbone. Each kiss was reverent, igniting fire along Riven’s skin, making him arch slightly in response.

Soren did not believe in god, he believed in Riven. And every move of his reflected it, he lived for his little wolf, and would die for him.