A slow, rough breath pulled through Viper’s chest, his eyes cutting up to him. The shift was small—steadying, deliberate—but Titus caught it.
“Once we do this, you’re mine,” he rasped, possessive as hell—sending a shiver up Titus’s spine.
Storm-gray eyes lifted, catching the light—glittering, unreadable. Taking the soap without looking away, Viper ran it over his chest in one slow pass—controlled, measured, as if mapping him.
Now it was his turn to shudder, and the slow, dangerous smile Viper gave him damn near detonated something in hishead. Then, with that same lethal curve of his mouth, Viper finally turned and stepped beneath the warm spray.
The water rolled down Viper’s back, over the flex of muscle, down to that tight, perfect ass before he stepped closer. He wanted skin on skin. He closed the distance inch by inch until the heat of Viper’s back met him in a fit that stole the air from his lungs. He wondered if Viper would let him in. It could go either way—he didn’t care if he bottomed or not—but with a man like Viper, he wasn’t sure.
He didn’t have to wait long for the answer. Viper turned him in one controlled move, guiding him to the wall—chest meeting cool tile, feet nudged apart. The slide came slowly and deliberately—Viper’s cock slicked with soap, gliding between his cheeks.
This wasn’t about trust. This was craving—heat—a deep need that stripped everything else out of his head.
Viper dragged his tongue over Titus’s shoulder, bit at the skin, then followed it with another bite at his neck.
The man was a vision—ink winding over his arms and across his chest. Viper had noticed it before, but not the full extent of it. Seeing it now was a goddamn turn-on.
“I want you to fuck me,” Titus ordered, voice rough. Some might’ve called it topping from the bottom.
Viper knew better. He called it Titus trying to keep control when letting go was the answer.
“All in good time,” he said, command threaded through need.
His fingers slid into Titus’s hair, turning him gently before he took his mouth—slow at first, then deep, a kiss that deepened until everything else fell away.
“Prep,” Viper growled.
“No prep,” Titus groaned into the kiss as he pushed in slowly. His hand slid around, finding Titus’s cock and stroking frombase to tip. Titus rose onto his toes, palms braced against the cool tile, breath coming hard as Viper sank the rest of the way.
Fuck, he was tight—hot, perfect. Felt so fucking good.
He set a steady rhythm, every thrust deliberate, measured against the slap of water and the rasp of their breath. His hand moved in time with it, pumping Titus hard and slick. The sounds—water, skin, breath—filled the small room, drowning thought.
Titus pushed back into him, matching his pace, a low growl tearing from his throat that went straight through Viper. Control slipped another inch.
“You feel me?” he growled, voice rough.
Titus’s breath hitched. “Every inch.”
Viper pressed closer, holding him against the wall until the world narrowed to heat and motion. Water slid over them in uneven streams, catching the light as their bodies found the same rhythm. Every breath hitched; every sound blurred into the next. When Titus shuddered beneath him, a low sound broke from Viper’s throat, and the last of his control went with it.
After several long moments, chest heaving, he finally slid free. His hands lingered around Titus’s waist.
The water had lost most of its heat, but it stayed warm enough.
“Come on,” Viper murmured. He rinsed them off, turned off the tap, and reached for a towel. Steam thinned as he worked—quick, efficient—his focus lingering on the tired lines carved across Titus’s face. How long had it been since the man had really slept?
They made it to the bed. Titus dropped face-first onto the sheets; Viper followed, a faint smirk tugging at his mouth. Instead of another round, he drew Titus in, the man giving a half-hearted protest before letting go.
Far beneath them, Manhattan blurred into a muted wash of sound—sirens, engines, life—rising just high enough to touchthe windows. With that low, steady hum around them, Viper finally let his eyes close.
Something woke Viper.
Not noise.
Not danger.
Titus—moving against him in the dark.
