“Why?” Golden breathed against me after my cock had hardened into steel from his attention.
“Because I told him he made a shitty Chianti.”
Golden leaned back, just enough, I guessed, for my face to come into focus. His green eyes sparkled, the hint of wrinkles appearing around the corners of his eyes when he smirked at me.
“Does he?”
“Yes.”
I leaned toward him, kissing him back into submission. It wasn’t long before Golden started to writhe, his hips helplessly fucking the air and his fingers straining against the way I held him.
“Come like this or not at all,” I told him, sinking my teeth into his bottom lip.
A growl tumbled out of his mouth and his fingers pressed hard into the healing wounds on my knuckles. I answered him by gouging my nails into the tops of his hands, and then Golden came like that.
Untouched and silent, offering me nothing more than a surprised whimper. He sucked in a sharp gasp of air and fell forward, his forehead landing against my shoulder. I flexed my hands until he let go, then wrapped my arms around him, pulling him closer to me.
He took the move for what his was, careful arms coming around my back. His touch was tentative at first, but after a breath, his hands flattened against my skin. He slid his palms up to my shoulders, pulling my body towards his, forehead still pressed hard against the front of my chest. I tangled my fingers into his hair, stroking it back and massaging his scalp until his breathing slowed and returned to normal.
I kissed the top of his head before resting my cheek against his hair and closing my eyes. How could something I knew was wrong feel so right? So perfect?
“Did you just come in your pants for me?” I asked.
His hair fluttered when I exhaled. He smelled like gunpowder and coffee.
He smelled like he was mine.
“Not for you,” he muttered.
I tugged the ends of his hair.
“It doesn’t always have to be a fight,” I said.
“I thought you liked that.” Golden’s lips pressed against my skin in what I was certain had to be a kiss. I held him tighter against me, and his fingers dug into my back like he would have buried himself inside of my chest if it was possible.
“I do,” I told him. “But like all things, Golden, there’s a time and a place.”
“Time and a place,” he repeated.
“I want you.” I slid my hands down and around to his chest, pushing him back so I could see him. Golden’s face was flushed, his eyes glassy and tired, his hair mussed. “I want you all of the time.”
He gave me a lazy smile.
“Explain it to me like I’m five,” he said.
I grabbed his face, pinching his cheeks with my thumb and fingers. His eyes widened and his nostrils flared, and he almost brought me to his knees with the look of defiance that flashed in his eyes.
“I think my father wants me dead,” I said. “I’m pretty sure my days are numbered, Golden. I want to spend the rest of them…”
The words sat heavy in the back of my throat.
How could I explain to him that I got hard making him come and bleed, and that was also how I told him I loved him? That Iwantedto love him.
Why did I have to have feelings for the only man standing between my life and my death? What a cruel fucking joke for life to play on me.
“Spend them doing what?” Golden asked, his words a jumbled mess because of my fingers.
I released his mouth, petting my fingers down his cheeks, tracing over the half-moon divots my nails had left just above the scruff of his quickly filling-in beard.
