But when it came to Zane, the position wasn’t just offered, it was asked for.
Which meant he wouldn’t be able to so easily throw it away. Not even if it meant sticking it to Pavel and holding onto his pride.
“How about this,” Pavel felt the ripple of his ability course over him as he shifted again into someone different, “Will this help?”
“Why the hell do you look like Kazimir?” he demanded.
“Would you run for him?”
“No,” Zane’s eyes narrowed. “You sound upset by that possibility.”
“You’re catching on.”
He huffed.
Pavel stalked toward him. “What would you say? If it was Kaz asking you to play CNC with him in the woods?”
“You’re talking about consensual nonconsent? Here?” He sounded incredulous, like he still hadn’t gotten the full picture even after everything. “Well for one, you’re missing the biggest part of that, which is the consent part. Secondly, and most importantly, you’re not Kaz.”
Pavel stopped less than three feet away, hating that it felt like he’d been slapped by those words.
If that was how his delectable doctor wanted to play this…
“What are you…” Zane sucked in a breath when Pavel shifted a third time, his body shrinking.
“What about this?” he asked, his very masculine voice probably looking ridiculous coming out of Lyra’s body, especially since his clothing didn’t change along with him. He was practically drowning beneath the weight of the soaked fabric. He didn’t want to sound like her though. Didn’t want to speak to Zane in her tongue. “Since you’re so keen on being her bitch. How about—”
Zane didn’t let him finish. One second he was standing there, gaping like a fish, and the next he was slamming into Pavel, taking him down in one swift move that knocked the wind out of him.
His hand wrapped around Pavel’s throat—or, rather, Lyra’s, which was much smaller and more delicate than Pavel’s real one—squeezing as the man practically seethed.
For a moment, Pavel let him, waiting until black spots started to wink in his vision and the pain began to register. Then he simply tapped a finger against Zane’s hip and stretched his arm back out toward the tree.
And the camera still filming them.
With a curse, Zane flung himself off of him, still spitting mad. It was actually kind of hot. The medical student losing his carefully constructed icy persona, coming apart as he paced back and forth, trying to collect himself.
Which he did all too soon, if you asked Pavel.
He’d morphed back to himself while he waited, still seated in the dirt, though he’d sat up. He had one arm rested over his knee, the other tapping a silent tune on his left thigh. When Zane stopped and turned to look at him, he smiled.
Apparently, it was just as off-putting as everything else he’d done that night because Zane’s frown returned.
“Why are you doing this?” Zane’s voice was a mere whisper. “I don’t understand.”
“That’s okay, Doctor. You will. Eventually. For now,” he got to his feet and dusted the debris off his pants, “you just need to accept that I’ve got you right where I want you. You’re going to stop being difficult and do as you’re told now, okay? My patience has run its course.”
He shook his head, still at a loss. “Consensual nonconsent implies you want to—”
“Fuck you,” he confirmed. “Yes. Very much so.”
Zane’s face contorted. It was like Pavel had just told him fish could walk on land.
Pavel sighed. “You’re going to run, and I’m going to hunt you down and make you confess to being a liar. Youlikeher, did you say?Her? No, gorgeous, I don’t think you do, and when I have your tight ass pumping my cock, my hand around that pretty neck of yours, you’re going to confess as much as you scream my name.”
The other man shivered, and Pavel felt a rush of heat sweep through him straight down to his loins. Despite his protests, a part of Zane was warming up to the idea.
Everyone needed an outlet, and sex was typically his. Since Kazimir had left him high and dry, he was either getting off with Lyra at the Imperial Palace or not at all.
