This wasn’t what Kazimir had had in mind when he’d come here tonight.
But then, plans tended to change, and only those who could go with the flow could survive the cruelties of this universe. Being adaptable was a skill set, one that Kazimir happened to have in aces.
Originally, he’d thought beating the older man before him would help appease some of the irritation swirling in his gut. Things had been more difficult with the Brumal as of late, and Kaz needed an outlet away from his friends and family, something personal he could use to alleviate the stress without letting the others know just how twisted his mood was actually getting.
Versatility came with many factors. Kaz needed to be aware of those around him, adjust to their wants and needs, and always be prepared to tell them what they wanted to hear—or what they didn’t, depending on his end goal. His cousin and a few of the other Satellite members knew what he was, knew how to guard themselves against him, but the rest of the planet?
He had the rest of them fooled.
On campus, they swooned over him and called him a Devil of Vitality. He hadn’t gained a Prince title like some of the others—like the Prince of Music, Rabbit Trace, for example—butthat had more to do with the fact he didn’t study anything that sounded poetic enough for it. The way they all looked at him was proof enough that they revered him the same way they would actual royalty, and that was more than enough for Kazimir to get off on.
He liked the rush he got whenever he was given someone’s full, undivided attention.
Which was probably why his brain had taken this sudden turn and opted to bend Nate Narek over the bathroom sink.
Kazimir hadn’t liked the way the pretty guy’s mind had wandered. It felt too much like he wasn’t giving Kaz the undivided attention he deserved. Like he wasn’t taking Kaz, or the threat he posed, seriously. That wouldn’t do.
There were many ways to rule over people; admiration and respect were just one of them.
Fear was another.
Since one could catch more flies with honey than vinegar, more often than not, Kazimir chose the first way over the latter. Tonight, however, wasn’t a good night. He’d already stormed into the boathouse and set him and Nate off on the wrong foot, so what was the point in backtracking now? First impressions were important, and Kaz had already made his. A pity, since luring Nate into his bed instead would have been more satisfying.
Not because Kazimir had a problem with taking Nate Narek outright, but because Nate would hate himself more in the morning if he’d agreed to it himself.
“Want to know a secret?” Kazimir asked as he twisted his finger deeper into the warm, tight heat that was Nate’s hole. The squeeze around his digit was tighter than anything he’d ever felt, and since he was enjoying it, he decided at that moment to give the poor guy an explanation. “I’m insanely good at reading people. All those little tells they try to hide? Thoseinner thoughts they keep so close to their hearts? I can see them. I’m reading you right now, Pretty Boy. Want to know what your pages say?”
Nate’s breath stuttered, and he gripped the edge of the sink with white knuckles. His eyes were filled with anger and fear, but when he opened his mouth, another moan slipped past those full baby-pink lips of his.
“You hate losing as much as I do,” Kazimir said, even though Nate hadn’t given him an actual answer. He wiggled his finger once more and then slowly eased it out to the tip, pausing for a moment just to see how Nate would react.
The racer tried to stand and Kaz clicked his tongue, shoving his finger back in with less tact than he had before. Feeling a little rush of adrenaline when Nate cried out. There was no pain in the sound, just a mixture of disbelief and bliss.
“There’s a difference though, isn’t there?” Kaz pulled out a second time, and then he brought two fingers together and carefully pushed them inside. The goal here wasn’t to hurt him—that would only make Nate blame Kaz, which would be a waste of his efforts. “I don’t like losing because I know I’m above that. You, however…” He felt around until he found Nate’s prostate and pressed, laughing when that had the older guy bowing off the sink. “Losing makes you feel like a loser, doesn’t it?”
“Please,” Nate adorably shook his head, as though trying to knock some sense into himself. “Stop.”
“Stop finger fucking you?” He scissored them and grinned when that had Nate mewling like a cat in heat. “Or stop pointing out your inadequacies?”
“I don’t care about losing!” Nate stated.
“No?”
“No!”
Kazimir removed his fingers and then grabbed hold of Nate’s balls, giving them a tug before he started rolling them inhis palm. A quick glance down showed the racer was at full mast and dripping for him, thick drops of milky precome rolling down to plop onto the disgusting green tiles of the bathroom floor.
“This is hardly the place for one tolosetheir virginity,” he taunted, knowing it would tick Nate off, even in his frazzled state. There was little doubt in Kaz’s mind that he wouldn’t have been able to take things this far if the other man hadn’t been wasted off his ass.
Kazimir had at least three inches on him height-wise, but Nate was fit, with broad shoulders, and looked like he could hold his own. Of course, a fight between them would result in Kaz winning, since he’d had extensive combat training, something he doubted the racer had much experience with, but now that he remembered Nate from school, he recalled his mouth as well.
Nate Narek was a senior when Kazimir started at Vail University. He’d been the resident golden boy, in fact, gaining everyone’s attention wherever he went. Both girls and guys alike wanted to bed him, but he’d rarely, if ever, paid them more mind than flirting here and there. There’d been one girlfriend at the beginning of the first semester, but that hadn’t lasted. Kaz didn’t know why because, aside from finding him hot, he’d had no use for Nate.
Still, Nate’s reputation had proceeded him, and it’d been impossible not to hear about the things he’d said to others throughout the single year they’d occupied the same campus.
Apparently, the cool-as-cucumber senior could flip a switch the second he felt like there was injustice happening.
“Where’s your hero complex now?” he teased, releasing his balls to return his fingers to his entrance. This time, he slid three in at once, stretching and opening the older man up, anticipation for what was to come growing with each passing second and hitch of Nate’s breath as he wiggled and writhedagainst him. “Does it not apply when you’re the one being abused?”
