God, but he loved to make him beg. With Zara he’d always been so careful, and watching Richard dominate her more was thrilling, especially since she seemed to respond. But Hux was always hesitant. He needed to be her safe place.
But with Richard he felt no such drive. Only the drive to claim. He pulled out his cock and rubbed it against the entrance. Richard wasn’t ready yet, but he wanted him to feel the pulse of what was going to happen, he wanted the heady rush of their bodies rubbing together.
“Fuck,” Richard grunted and pushed back, taking just a tiny portion of what Hux could offer.
“You’re going to hurt yourself,” Hux whispered, pulling back. “You’re not ready.”
“Make me ready then,” Richard whimpered, clutching at the arm of the settee with both hands. “And do it. I need to feel you.”
Hux didn’t argue. He didn’t tease anymore. He needed to feel this too. To erase some of the ugly with something beautiful. He spit against Richard’s arse, rubbing the fluid in, stretching him slightly to ready him. He spit in his own palm, stroking his cock. This wasn’t the most optimal way to do this, to ease the way, but it would do when things were so desperate.
When they were both wet, he pressed against him again, squeezing his eyes shut as he pushed forward into delicious heat, into tightness that made him go mad, into a gripping channel. Richard’s cry of pleasure made Hux go weak and he gripped the other man’s hips hard enough to bruise as almost unbearable sensation streaked through his entire body.
He fucked then. Hard and fast, grinding and groping and claiming like nothing else mattered. Richard met him stroke for stroke, just as wild and wanton for this as Hux was.
“I want to feel how hard you are,” Hux whispered, wrapping his arm around Richard’s stomach, gliding down to find the hard cock curled against his stomach. “Come for me.”
As he said it, he began to stroke in time to his thrusts. Richard was gasping and groaning now, his thighs shaking, his arms straining. “Hux!” he jolted out at last as he came against Hux’s palm.
The pleasure was too much. Hux joined him, pumping into him, filling him as he filled himself with all the connection and love and hope that he knew couldn’t last. Wouldn’t last because of what he was, who he was.
He collapsed over Richard, pressing kisses behind his ear, still stroking his twitching cock as they piled together on the settee. How long that lasted, Hux didn’t know. Not long enough. At last Richard shifted beneath him, rolled to be under him again. Only this time they were nose to nose, face to face.
“I’m not going to lose you,” he said.
Hux groaned and rested his head down on Richard’s shoulder, breathing in his scent before he said, “Letting me fuck you isn’t going to suddenly change my mind on this subject.”
“Being fucked by you isn’t going to change mine,” Richard said with just as much strength and conviction. “Let me up.”
Hux sighed and sat up, granting Richard the space to get to his feet. He readjusted, dressing himself swiftly. Hux remained as and where he was, just staring up at Richard.
“I’m going to get Zara,” Richard explained. “Because this is not a conversation for you and me. It’s for all of us. But while I’m gone, I want you to think about something.”
“What?” Hux asked.
“Is it protecting her to take her heart from her chest? Is it protecting me?”
Hux bent his head. “It’s not your hearts I’m worried about. It’s the breath from your lungs. The life from your bodies.”
Richard tilted his face up and shook his head. “My darling, we are talking about the same thing.” He walked out of the room, leaving Hux to rest his head on the back of the settee with a loud sigh.
Fuck, but the man was determined to wear him down. Worse, it might work. And then where would they all be?
Nowhere good.
* * *
Zara
There were only a few times in Zara’s life where she had cried until she felt there were no tears left in the world. This was one of them. She lay on her side in Richard’s bed, her cheeks wet from them, her body weak from sobbing. She stared into nothingness and felt the tug of her future. There would be nothingness without Hux, too. He just didn’t care enough to hear it. To understand that tearing himself away wasn’t protection, it was torture.
She sat up, smoothing her hair and wiping her eyes. Part of her wanted to stay hidden in this warm room. To pretend that none of this was happening. To hide because surely Hux wouldn’t leave without telling her goodbye.
Would he?
There was a light knock on the door, and Zara got to her feet as it opened. She tensed, readying for Hux…but it wasn’t him. It was Richard who entered. A slightly tousled Richard, with a serious expression on his face.
And her knees nearly went out from under her. “He left,” she said.
