He steps closer, voice rough. “You think this—whatever this is—can survive the league? The press? Our teams?”
I shrug. “Didn’t ask about survival. I asked if you feel it.”
His silence answers for him.
I take a step forward, closing the space until I can see the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw, the pulse in his throat. His breathing stutters but he doesn’t back away.
He leans his forehead against mine. “I don’t know what I want.”
“I can show you a possibility,” My voice doesn’t sound familiar to me.
The moment tilts. The air changes. He moves first—grabs my hoodie, yanks me down, mouth finding mine in one clean motion that feels like breaking and coming home at once.
It’s not soft. It’s too full of everything we’ve been avoiding—frustration, want, the months of trying to pretend it didn’t matter. I taste the apology he won’t say. The warning I won’t hear.
For a heartbeat, the world outside doesn’t exist. There’s just his breath against my cheek, the sound of rain on the windows, the echo of something we can’t name pulling us closer.
Then he pulls back, eyes wide, chest heaving.
“We can’t,” he says again. “If anyone saw?—”
“No one has.”
“That’s not the point.”
“It’s exactly the point. You want me in the dark? Fine. As long as I can have you.”
I meet his lips again, sliding my hands under his shirt.
He breaks the kiss. “You make everything complicated.”
I grin faintly against his neck. “I make everythingbetter.”
Alaric’s head lolls to the side as I suck against his collarbone. I turn him so his back is flat against my chest. My mouth still painting his neck with bruises. He makes a dirty little sound as he presses his ass against my hard-on.
“You want me?” I growl into his ear.
“Magnus—”
“Answer the question, prince.” I grip his jaw, making him meet my eyes through the mirror.
He breathes heavily, his gray eyes all fire—no trace of the ice he’s known for. “Yes.”
Relief almost swallows me whole. He admitted it. He can’t deny that I’m the only one who can give him what he needs. I try to stay calm. Every nerve in my body is telling me to tear into him, to leave him ruined and torn in this bathroom. I take a deep breath to steady myself. I can’t break my toy so early on.
“Good boy. Open your mouth.”
His eyebrows knit together, and his mouth opens like he’s about to ask me a question, but I shove two fingers down his throat.
His back arches, a small sound of surprise humming through his chest.
I pull his hips against me, trying to relieve myself with a small amount of friction. “Suck.”
He listens beautifully when he’s this needy. Alaric sucks and licks my fingers like they’re candy as my free hand slips just below the waistband of his joggers. My fingers brush against his hair, his cock only a few centimeters away.
I push his pants down over his round ass. He moans as the cold air causes goosebumps to scatter across his skin.
God, he’s so fucking vocal. I need to stay focused so I don’t come in my pants right here.
