“I am. How do you want it?”
Rae rolled onto his stomach, lifting his hips to show me exactly what he wanted. The sight of him so brazenly desiring me was something else and a harsh moan escaped me. I scrambled for the lube, tearing a condom wrapper open and sheathing myself in record time. I slathered myself with lube, then turned my attention to Rae.
Gently, I slid a hand around his hip and nudged his legs wider apart. He trembled, which surprised me, so I rubbed a soothing circle into his back, and dripped lube onto him, lightly working it inside him, pressing cautiously, slowly, giving him every chance to change his mind.
But he didn’t change his mind. He rocked back against me until my finger slipped inside him, and his moan ripped around the room, burying itself in the walls forever. I tested him, stretching, then I added another and repeated the process until he was gasping, head bowed, skin beaded with sweat.
“I’m ready. Fuck me, Cash.”
God, I loved how his low voice enveloped my name. I’d have fucked him forever if only he kept saying it like that. I closed my eyes for a breath and reclaimed my fingers, then I advanced on him and pressed my dick against him, breaching him so slowly it was almost painful.
Painful forme. I’d bottomed enough to know it was likely hurting him too.
Beneath me, Rae fisted my clean sheets and squirmed, arching his back as his body endured a war of pain and desire, but I knew the moment desire won out. His shoulders slackened, tension bleeding away, and I slid all the way inside, my balls crammed against his as the space between us evaporated.
I panted, fighting the urge to move. He reached around and squeezed my thigh. “Do it.”
Well okay then. I pulled out and drove into him again, over and over, picking up pace until I was pounding into him, my hands on his shoulders, dragging him back onto my cock. Our hips slammed together, me in control for the briefest time. Then he fought back, matching me thrust for thrust, demandingmorewith every ragged groan that fell from his lips.
Control escaped me. I fucked him as though my life depended on it, my bed jumping across the floorboards I hadn’t got round to painting yet. It was like I’d never done it before. Never had my dick been enveloped in tight, wet heat, my brain invaded by the hot sounds of a lover falling apart. Except, Rae wasn’t my lover. He was a random hook up, and he had no business sending me so fucking crazy. Ensnaring me with something so primal and filthy I couldn’t see how it would ever end.
My body had other ideas. Orgasm rushed through me. I fought it, but lost. I placed warning hands on his back, hunched over him, lips brushing his ear. “I’m gonna come soon. You ready?”
“Fuck yeah.” Rae writhed beneath me, dropping his head. “Fill me up.”
God, he was so fucking dirty. Heavy pleasure surged through me, coiling around every nerve until it snapped and a dark, pulsing release poured out of me and into him, throbbing where we were joined. I cried out, digging my nails into him, desperately still fucking him as I registered a hoarse yell that wasn’t mine, violent shudders beneath me, and then silence.
My chest heaved, dry gasps scraping my lungs, but somehow I gathered the wherewithal to gently pull out of Rae and roll off him.
He didn’t move. Just lay there breathing so hard that when perspective returned to me, I feared something was wrong.
I grasped his shoulders and rolled him over. His eyes were screwed shut, his face flushed, but he was grinning, a lazy, sated smile that said all the right things without him uttering a word.
Relieved, I let him go and collapsed beside him. “Don’t get too comfortable. I’m gonna have you again before the night’s up.”
Chapter Three
Rae
“There aren’t enough of us.” Megan frowned gravely around the meeting. “The only way forward at this point is to reduce the number of the fox hunts we target.”
Outcry met her suggestion, but it was pointless. She was right. Our gang had steadily depleted in number over the last twelve months until there were barely six of us some days. Nowhere near enough to derail an event before it got started, let alone disrupt a full-scale hunt. The bastards we were up against would ride straight through us.
“So what do we do?” I said. “We can’t put an overt call to arms out, they’re watching our every move online.”
Megan stopped pacing and reclaimed her seat beside Fletch, her husband. They exchanged a meaningful glance and he passed her a scrap of paper. “Right now,” she said, “new recruits are too risky. We can’t trust any face we don’t know. So we’re going to have to reach out to people who’ve left us.”
“Retired sabs?”
She nodded. “We have a few names. Fletch and I can contact most of them, but there’s a couple I’d like you to approach. Both London-based so anyone tailing you would assume you were going home.”
A ripple of heat spread through me as I recalled my last trip into the city, but I pushed it aside to contemplate later, and took the scrunched paper Megan held out. Two names were scrawled in pencil.
Ted Parker
Ciaran Walsh
Last known addresses were pencilled beneath, but I knew I’d have to get creative if they turned up blank. Maybe the three months I’d interned at MI5 would come in useful after all. “How receptive are they likely to be?”
