“I wasn’t aware you were a fighter,” Corbin argued.
Dorian kissed him again, hands pressing to Corbin’s cheeks and holding him there, their hips pushing into one another as Corbin grasped him by the waist once more. He tasted of whiskey, smelled of the cold air, and Dorian pressed into him as their stiffening cocks brushed against one another.
He stifled a moan at feeling how large Corbin was, pulling away to hover over him. “Is this why you’ve been giving me those looks?” Dorian asked, hearing Corbin curse as he pressed into him again. “Were you jealous that you were not the one in my arms earlier?”
“That’s all in that enormous head of yours, Prince,” Corbin argued.
He shoved Dorian off him, and Dorian stumbled slightly, but he didn’t back down. Dorian started forward again, intent on pinning Corbin into the wall, but Corbin grabbed his arms, wrestling him until Dorian wrenched himself free and swung back. He knocked Corbin in the jaw, caught him on the stumble, and pinned him chest-first into the wall.
Dorian pressed Corbin’s arms on either side of his hips, his pelvis rocking against Corbin’s ass.
“Are you planning on showing me to my new room?” Corbin grunted.
“Are you going to hit me again?” Dorian breathed against his neck.
“I think you enjoyed it too much for me not to.”
Dorian pushed off the Belwark, and as Corbin turned, he couldn’t help running his tongue over his lips at the sight of him disheveled and frustrated.
“See, you know me already.”
Every step and turn of the hallways had Dorian’s bones tingling. He resisted the urge to pull Corbin into a random room. His heart kept pounding, palms clammy. And when they finally reached the floor, Dorian made a gesture to the doors.
“The last two on the end are free,” he said.
Corbin rounded on Dorian and began undoing the buckles on the shoulder pad he was wearing. “Choose one,” Corbin said.
“Why are you asking me—“
Corbin’s lips slammed onto his, hands grabbing Dorian by the neck and his hips, and Dorian snatched him off by his hair.
“You’re a fast learner,” Dorian said. “Fight me.”
“I plan on it.”
The words had hardly left Corbin’s lips before he dragged Dorian against him again, hauling him into his arms with a grip that Dorian hadn’t anticipated. He was off the floor, Corbin’s hands threaded so deep into Dorian’s muscular ass that every warning signal went off in Dorian’s mind. Corbin’s lips were on his, his kisses deep and hard and desperate. Like he’d been holding himself back from this desire for longer than he wanted to admit.
They moved through the door, Dorian still unable to gain back control. Corbin reached between them, unbuckling his belt, and as the door slammed, Dorian felt the Belwark’s length against his hips. Dorian’s back was against the wall. He fumbled for the upper hand as Corbin grabbed him by the hair and pushed him down.
But as his knees seemed to give way, Dorian felt rage brewing in the back of his mind at the fact that Corbin was trying to get him on his knees. Dorian’s form flashed. He reeled back, breaking himself from Corbin’s grasp. He jerked his head into Corbin’s nose, causing him to cry out. But before Corbin could move away from the Prince, Dorian grabbed him by the throat and threw him into the wall where he’d just been.
“Try that again, Second, and the only cock you’ll ever touch again ismine,” he growled, feeling his form trying to surface with his blackening nails. “I will rip off your cock and put it on my mantle as a reminder of who you belong to. Do you understand?”
Corbin swallowed but gave the Prince a short nod. Dorian relaxed his grip on Corbin’s throat, and as the Belwark’s chest heaved, Dorian felt a devious smile creep onto his lips.
“You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” Dorian dared.
The lust in Corbin’s eyes deepened. “Don’t ruin it,” Corbin growled.
“Don’t worry—“ Dorian grabbed him by the throat again, shoving him into the wall, leaning forward to bite his lip “—I’m just getting started.”
It was anger and rage that fueled their every kiss. But Dorian couldn’t stop. The hatred that the Belwark had dismissed him as a brat for years despite wanting to have his fun with him poured in his veins. The way that Corbin had looked at him just then when his form had tried to surface made him wild. He had fantasized about that look. Had fantasized about feeling the Belwark beg for him.
But he’d take his time another night.
Corbin was soon on his knees, and Dorian grabbed him by the hair as the Belwark started to lean forward.
“Make sure you savor this, Second….” Dorian said in a rasp, holding Corbin’s eyes. “Savorthe taste of my name and my cock on your tongue,” he breathed. “You’ll be begging for both soon.”
