Ivan laughed in disbelief as he shucked his underwear off, his hard cock bobbing in the air. “Will I? Will it ever be enough?”
“I don’t know,” Nix told him truthfully, holding back his thighs, presenting himself for Ivan to take. He needed Ivan inside him like he’d never needed anything. “But we have a very long time to figure it out.”
23
Ivan
Ivan pushing into Nix’s pliant body felt like coming home. The inhuman warmth of him, the tight grip as he took every inch of Ivan inside.
Ivan couldn’t take his eyes off it—the spot where their bodies connected. Nix’s tender skin was a deep, bruised purple, stretched tight around Ivan’s glistening length.
Ivan had almost lost this forever.
He drank in Nix’s moan, feeling crazed and giddy and ill all at once. He wasn’t used to these kinds of emotions, and they were fucking with his head. Not to mention the new feeling he had blossoming in his chest—Nix’s soul, if he wasn’t mistaken. It was a twisty and serpentine thing, seductive and strange. It filled some gap in Ivan he’d never been able to place, a jagged hole the perfect size for it.
The feel of it inside him was soothing and maddening all at once.
Ivan couldn’t focus. He couldn’t find a rhythm. His hips kept faltering as he returned to Nix’s mouth again and again, sucking on his tongue and biting at his lips. Trailing down to suck bruises into his skin, tiny purple shadows on Nix’s neck and collarbone that disappeared as quickly as Ivan made them. He was mumbling nonsense all the while, frantic and foolish words he couldn’t seem to swallow down. “Need you. Want you. Keep you forever.”
Eventually Nix’s heels dug into his ass. “Move, darling,” Nix pleaded.
Ivan gathered his wits enough to start thrusting, angling Nix’s lower half so he could get as deep as humanly possible. Nix had said they needed to consummate.
And it did get better, the agitation under Ivan’s skin dissolving away as he sank deeper and deeper into his incubus, Ivan’s sweaty, sticky skin pressing against every bit of him, their chests sliding together, the barbells in Nix’s nipples cool against Ivan’s fevered skin.
He was vaguely aware that any of his men could come back at any time, to find him completely nude and balls deep in his demon. But so the fuck what? Wasn’t that the whole point of his reorganizing? Getting rid of the worst threats, keeping only those with the potential to change, so Ivan and his brothers could live their lives however the fuck they wanted?
Maybe it hadn’t been for thisexactpurpose—fucking Nix into the carpet of the restaurant where a half dozen men had just died. But so Ivan could keep Nix at his side. Touch him where and when he wanted.
The incredibly selfish roots of Ivan’s change of heart. If only his brothers knew.
Maybe they did.
Nix arched up against him, and Ivan reared back, taking Nix’s legs into the crook of his elbows as he found a new, better angle.He had rug burns on his knees, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. His demon looked too beautiful like this, spread out on his back, bared for Ivan’s pleasure. The sight of him almost hurt, at the same time as it healed.
“Stroke yourself,” Ivan ordered, his voice hoarser than it had ever been.
Nix grabbed his purple cock, stroking himself languidly as Ivan fucked him desperately, never taking his eyes off Ivan’s. His were glowing, searing themselves into Ivan. Burning him, the way Nix’s insides burned against Ivan’s skin.
His release caught him completely off guard, a tidal wave that was brutal and fierce and all-consuming. Ivan dropped Nix’s legs and fell onto him, batting Nix’s hand away and taking over as his own body shook and shuddered, until Nix was trembling beneath him, spilling hot into Ivan’s hand.
Ivan couldn’t catch his breath, but maybe that was because he couldn’t stop kissing Nix. His shoulders. His chest. His neck. His face. As Nix stroked his hands along Ivan’s sides, murmuring sweet nonsense that Ivan couldn’t listen to, at risk of losing it all over again.
He pressed his forehead against Nix’s. “This is fucking terrible.”
“What is?” Nix asked, stroking Ivan’s hair, moving to press warm kisses to the side of Ivan’s face.
“Loving you like this.”
He felt Nix’s lips curve against his skin. “I know, baby. I know.”
Ivan rolled them over until he was on his back, Nix propped over him. Whatever crazy things the bond that had formed between them was doing to his body—to his soul—he was hard again already.
He slapped a hand against Nix’s thigh. “Ride me, incubus.”
Nix didn’t need telling twice. He sank onto Ivan’s length with ahappy sigh and started rocking furiously. Gone were the languid movements he’d used to stroke himself. He seemed to have inherited Ivan’s frantic energy. He stretched out over Ivan, and it was his turn now to bite at Ivan’s chest. With his sharper teeth, Ivan could feel the harsh sting of him breaking skin.
Maybe Ivan would heal quicker, now that he was bonded to a demon. Maybe he wouldn’t. Ivan didn’t give a fuck either way. Nix’s marks could stay forever, for all he cared.
