He opened his lips to lick Dmytro’s palm and tasted sweat. Dmytro closed his eyes in pleasure, then opened them again to gaze down at Ajax as if he were the only man in the world.
“Suck my fingers,” Dmytro ordered. Ajax did as he was told. “Yes, God. Your mouth is goddamnfire. I can’t wait to make you suck my dick.”
A burst of pure hunger hit Ajax at the image, making him groan around Dmytro’s slick fingers. Yes, he’d get on his knees for this cold, beautiful man. And he’d love it.
Three fingers meant he couldn’t speak, but he couldn’t anyway. He was dying. Pleasure was killing him. He sucked Dmytro’s fingers and arched his hips up over and over. He had to get Dmytro off, that’s what their frantic movements felt like—asif he were a doll and Dmytro was using him for his own pleasure and whatever Ajax needed was secondary.
Ajax figured Dmytro was going to feel bad about it later, because it was selfish and rough, but the joke was on him because Ajax wanted more and harder and …uhn…. he wanted everything.
Ajax was a doll in a claw machine with ecstasy gripping him tighter and tighter…
Dmytro’s rough hand squeezed his knee. Ajax got a good grip on Dmytro’s tight ass and wrapped his legs around the bodyguard’s thick thighs. He curled himself between Dmytro’s weight and the thin, lumpy mattress. The board beneath them was the fabled Omega Point—where fierce pressure against his ass began and ended and from which he bucked mindlessly toward heaven. There was no place to go. Nothing to do but to submit to each surge of Dmytro’s hips. Nothing to do but accept the waves of delight Dmytro was offering, to thrust, and shove. To offer Dmytro as much as he could give in return.
Upward and upward they spiraled, until Ajax whined around the fingers that choked off his moans and Dmytro drew a gasping breath next to his ear and became utterly silent, holding his body stiff. His cock pulsed between them. Stuttering puffs of air heated Ajax’s neck—a soft, broken sound—and Dmytro came like a boy, dampening his shorts and the jeans he wore.
Ajax seized on the knowledge and let his body join in, his climax like a bottle rocket that shot and soared and burst. He let out a soft groan when it happened, head falling back onto the flat pillow, body relaxing all at once. He couldn’t let go of Dmytro. If he let go, it would be over and he wanted to savor it, to wait until his heart slowed and what little breeze there was cooled his sweaty skin.
Dmytro kept his face in the juncture of Ajax’s neck and shoulder but withdrew his hand, allowing Ajax to breathe. Hemissed Dmytro’s fingers. Couldn’t wait until he could choke on Dmytro’s cock.
Ajax pressed soft kisses to Dmytro’s temple, his ear. He cupped the back of Dmytro’s head, cradling him, wondering what was going through Dmytro’s mind. He didn’t ask.
“I’m sorry.” Dmytro swallowed against his neck. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“It’s all right,” Ajax held him tightly. “Sh… It’s all right.”
Dark laughter met his skin. “I should be reassuring you, little mink.”
“Nuh-uh. I’m a boar, remember?” Ajax did not regret a second of their passion. If Dmytro thought he did, he hadn’t been paying attention. “We’re dangerous and unpredictable.”
Dmytro lifted his head. “The cabin will stink of sex.”
“If we did it right.” Ajax thumbed Dmytro’s jaw. “Thank you, Dmytro. That was…”
“Trouble.”
“I like trouble,” Ajax smiled. “Trouble is my superpower.”
“This situation is fucked up.” Dmytro hesitated for a moment but rolled off him. “Bartosz will know, and I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Is that all that worries you? Whether your coworkers will tease you?” Ajax tried worrying about things, but other than the squishy mess in his underwear, he felt absolutely fabulous—boneless, and relaxed, and maybe even a little happy. “They got any tissues around here?”
He was rarely practical, which was why he hadn’t checked beforehand.
Dmytro shrugged and sat up, dropping his legs over the side of the bed. He began going through the drawers, one by one, until he found an old T-shirt.
“Here.” He offered it to Ajax, who wiped himself as clean as possible before handing it back.
Dmytro took it without looking up and did the same.
“We’re good, right?” Ajax couldn’t believe he had to ask. “I want what happened to be… something. Not a thing we did because—”
“You frayed my last nerve?”
Ajax had to smile at that. “We’re good, right?”
“Of course.” Finally, Dmytro’s pale blue eyes lifted. He seemed defeated, but a small smile hovered on his lips. “Very good?”
“Indeed. This isn’t Stockholm Syndrome or anything. I’m drawn to you. I like you. God knows I wanted you—”
