“Just being helpful,” Danny told him, aiming for a coy tone but ending up with something hopelessly slutty.
Oh well. It wasn’t like he was fooling anyone anyhow.
And thank fuck he wasn’t. Because in the next instant Roman sank to his knees behind him, spreading Danny’s cheeks and licking over his hole.
“Oh fuck!” Danny cried, slapping his hands against the shower wall so his knees didn’t give out.
Roman growled again, the sound sending tremors through Danny’s body. He started swiping his tongue in maddening little circles, making hungry noises every time Danny whimpered. When Danny’s hole had softened enough for Roman to spear him with his tongue, he took full advantage, eating him out like a madman, licking and sucking and grunting while Danny cried out helplessly.
It wasn’t long before Danny was a trembling, spent mess, his cum splattered against the shower tile.
“Jesus Christ,” he moaned.
Would he ever get used to this passion? This ferocity? The primal way Roman claimed him every time they came together?
He fucking hoped not.
Roman half led, half carried him out of the shower, drying them both efficiently as he murmured praise to Danny, telling him how good and perfect and lovely he was. He led Danny to the bed and grabbed the lube from his suitcase.
Roman’s cock was standing at full attention, red and angry-looking, and Danny found himself mesmerized by the sight.
Roman lubed himself up while he eyed Danny like he was candy, then prowled over, graceful as a jungle cat. He pushed back Danny’s thigh, his eyes turning black as he bit in with his fangs, right at the tender skin near the crease of Danny’s hip, slurping at Danny’s blood with the same enthusiasm he’d given his hole.
“Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Danny moaned, his cock hardening again in an instant. It always felt so fucking good when Roman drank from him, even now that he was no longer human.
Danny whimpered with oversensitivity as Roman’s lubed fingers pushed into him without warning, and Roman licked hisbite closed, his eyes turning back to their icy blue, watching Danny intently as he fingered him open ruthlessly.
Well, he always watched Danny intently. He was always intense as hell in general. But tonight he seemed…
“Oh my God!” Danny cried, the words choking off in a groan with another twist of Roman’s digits. “You—you’re getting off on doing this on Luc’s bed, aren’t you?”
Roman smirked at him, withdrawing his fingers and covering Danny with his body. He smelled so fucking good, all copper and spice, and Danny breathed him in like a drug.
“I take a certain pleasure,” Roman murmured, sucking Danny’s nipple into his mouth and biting down hard with blunt teeth, practically purring at Danny’s answering moan. “In knowing he is still fighting for his mate. He still has the uncertainty. The waiting. The fear.” He shoved a pillow under Danny’s lower back and folded his thighs back, lining up the fat head of his cock and pressing in with one merciless push. He let out a sigh like he was coming home again. “But you, my lovely little king, are already mine. To have. To hold.” He snapped his hips back and in again, his hands tight on Danny’s hips. “Tofuck. For all eternity.”
Jesus Christ. Danny really should be calling Roman out on his competitive nature right now, but he was too busy making embarrassing mewling sounds as Roman clocked his prostate over and over again.
“You belong to me,” Roman growled. “Body and soul. And he is still…dating.”
Oh God. Danny tried to laugh at the thought of Lucien doing anything as mundane as dating, but it came out as a strangled moan. He was fully hard again, and just a little desperate, and he wanted to touch himself, but he was too busy holding on to Roman’s broad shoulders for dear fucking life.
“R-Rome,” he pleaded, when he could form the words.
Roman slid a hand between them, grasping Danny’s cock and stroking just the way Danny liked. He wrapped his other hand around Danny’s throat, his thumb pressing in just hard enough to make Danny moan.
“Perfect mate,” he murmured, his eyes fixed on the tight grip of his hand. “Perfect andmine.”
He was probably mourning the fact that any bruises he left wouldn’t last, the possessive bastard.
“Yours,” Danny agreed. “Yours, yours, yours. Fuck. Fuuuuuck.”
He was mindlessly babbling now, but he couldn’t help it. Roman was right. He owned Danny. He knew Danny’s body and his mind better than Danny did most of the time. And he loved nothing more than putting all his focus, all his otherworldly intensity, on being the perfect mate for Danny.
And all Danny had given him in exchange was his whole fucking soul on a platter.
Roman twisted his hand over the head of Danny’s cock. “Come for me, little king.”
Danny came, just like that, with an embarrassingly guttural grunt. “Ungh!”
