“Lucian! Yes, Lucian! Please!”
There isn’t a chance the house can’t hear Elias screaming my name for mercy. Mara is going to kill me, but at least I can die a happy man.
Elias comes with my name on his mouth. Warm cum sprays on my face and chest, dripping down to my cock.
“Look at me, sweetheart,” I demand.
Elias’s eyes all but have stars in them as he glances at me. I take my hand, wiping cum from my chest, and begin massaging my own dick. Elias’s cum makes my hand slick and warm.
“You see what you did to me?” My voice doesn’t sound like mine. “Marking your territory?”
“You told me to...” He looks away, a blush blooming on his cheeks.
“I didn’t say you could look away, Elias.” Lewd squelching sounds fill the space between us.
I rise to my feet, my orgasm threatening to take me out early. “You’re going to listen?—”
But Elias isn’t listening. No, his mouth is on mine, both of his hands wrapping around my thick cock. The semen is slick between us, making my balls ache with need.
“Come on me, please.” Elias groans into my neck.
“You want to be dirty?” I grab one of his ass cheeks, roughly, making him yip.
“Yes, Lucian. Please.” Elias lies back, his beautiful skin catching in the low light. “Daddy, please.”
Blood rushes from my brain. A thrill I can’t express tears through me.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty, Elias. God?—!”
Elias is littered with my cum, not even bothering to shy away.
He’s breathing hard, his body heavy against my red silk sheets.
I collapse next to him. Careful not to land on my aching side.
“Did you rip your stitches?” His fingers trace over my stomach trying to find a trace of pain.
“I’m fine, sweetheart.”
The sounds of satisfied breaths fill the room until...
“Daddy, huh?” I tease.
“Shut up!”
He smiles then, small and private, the sort of smile that says he knows he has disarmed me. The danger, the tenderness, the fear and the thread of iron between us all hold together like a taut rope in a storm. For a moment, we do nothing but breathe.
“Stay,” I say finally. It’s not a command exactly. It’s an invitation and a bargain. “Stay until morning.”
8
Elias
Iwake up to warmth.
Real warmth—not the heavy blankets Mara piles on me, not the heat vent that clicks on at random hours. This is body-heat, alive and steady, radiating from behind me. An arm is slung low around my waist, solid and possessive in a way that should terrify me. Instead, it settles something restless in my chest.
Lucian.
