“Has anyone told you how annoying your superior attitude is?”
“You have, on multiple occasions. And your insults are getting repetitive and unoriginal.”
“Screw you. Asshole.”
“As I said, repetitive and unoriginal.”
Seyn realized he was smiling. It hit him suddenly how immature the whole argument was and how much he missed it. He fucking missed insulting Ksar. It was comfortingly normal in his otherwise dramatically changed life. He felt like a mess of heightened senses and hormones these days, but hating Ksar and arguing with him felt comfortingly familiar. He kind of…he kind of wanted to see Ksar so that he could insult him to his face.
“Is your control not improving at all?” Ksar said. The connection was so good that Seyn could hear him drum his fingers. He was probably in his study at home. The hour was late, so his cravat was probably loose—or maybe he had even removed it. He was probably leaning back in his chair, his long fingers drumming over the armrest, his gaze tired but haughty as usual…
Seyn frowned and shook the strange thoughts off. Why was he even thinking about such inane things?
“It is improving,” he replied belatedly. “But it’s still not fine.”
“How strong are you?” Ksar said.
Seyn’s lips twisted. “How strong are you?” he said, incredulous that Ksar expected an honest answer when he was so tight-lipped about his own telepathy. Seyn couldn’t be sure, but he was positive he still wasn’t as strong a telepath as Ksar. He was much better than before, but he didn’t think he could break or restore someone’s bond, and certainly not as easily as Ksar had.
“I’m probably Class 4,” Ksar said. “Maybe Class 5.”
Seyn snorted. “Right.”
“You may choose not to believe me, of course,” Ksar said.
Seyn vividly imagined wrapping his hands around Ksar’s throat and squeezing.
“Thanks for permitting me,” Seyn said, not without sarcasm, his hand creeping down his stomach and cupping his cock. It was baffling that he still hadn’t lost his erection, but then again, he’d given up on trying to figure out what made his cock hard.
“What are you doing?” Ksar said, his voice laced with suspicion.
Seyn realized too late that he was breathing too loudly and unsteadily. “Nothing,” he said, but he couldn’t bring himself to remove his hand from his cock. Fuck, it felt like he’d been hard for ages.
“It doesn’t sound like nothing,” Ksar said.
“I’m doing sit-ups,” Seyn said, pressing the heel of his hand against his erection, trying to stave off his arousal until the end of the call. “You know, gotta keep myself in shape so that I can have lots of sex now that I’m free of you.”
“You will do no such thing.”
Seyn bit his lip and squeezed his cock, which somehow had gotten harder at Ksar’s haughty tone. His cock was fucking weird. “Pardon?”
“You heard me,” Ksar said. “You may not have the bond anymore, but as far as everyone is concerned, you are still my bondmate and no one will—” Ksar cut himself off and then said in a stiff tone, “Your bond wouldn’t have allowed you to have sex with someone else, so that would be a dead giveaway that something is amiss.”
Seyn scoffed. “What’s the point of being unbonded if I’m still shackled to you?”
“That’s precisely why I said I must break our betrothal contract first. You’re the one who insisted on breaking the bond prematurely.”
Seyn rolled his eyes, stroking his cock a little. Even getting the infuriating “you were wrong and I was right” lecture from Ksar wasn’t killing his erection. Quite the opposite, in fact. It was beyond baffling. What was wrong with him? Did he have a thing for being lectured and humiliated?
“So how close to figuring it out are you?” Seyn said, his voice a little breathless as he tugged at his cock. Screw Ksar. Screw him. It wasn’t like he’d know what Seyn was doing. “Hurry up.”
“What’s the rush?” Ksar said, something ugly about his tone. “Are you that desperate to get fucked?”
His cock throbbed at the word “fucked” uttered in that snobbish voice, and Seyn bit back the moan threatening to leave his lips.
“Screw you. Maybe I’m desperate to fuck someone.” Not that he had a preference one way or another, since he’d never tried either, but it was infuriating how easily Ksar assumed that he would be the one spreading his legs. “I’ll have you know I like the idea of fucking someone.”
Ksar gave a dismissive snort.
Seyn stroked his balls. “You’re such an asshole. You really think you know better than me what I’d like?”
“Yes.”
Arrogant ass.
“Please enlighten me, then,” Seyn said, stroking himself a little faster. He had to admit it was titillating that he was getting away with it right under Ksar’s nose—but it didn’t mean that he was getting off to the sound of Ksar’s voice. He hated Ksar’s stupid voice.