And then I spin him.
His back hits the mattress hard enough to bounce, and I’m on him in a second, straddling his hips, pinning his wrists to the bed.
“You’ve been driving me fucking insane,” I say, voice already frayed, teeth grazing the skin beneath his jaw. “With your perfect manners and your smug little smirks and that mouth that never shuts up.”
“You like my mouth,” he pants, grinding against me.
Gods, I do. Too much.
“Don’t pretend you haven’t been dreaming of all the things it could do to you,” he taunts.
I laugh, low and dark. “Oh, I’ve had you starring in my fantasies for fuckingyears, Leo.”
We’re both slick now, cocks leaking, skin fever-hot. I kiss him again—deeper this time, messier. I bite his lower lip until he groans, then soothe it with my tongue.
“You want this?” I ask, already knowing the answer but needing to hear it.
“I want you toruinme,” he says.
I move down his body, scraping my teeth along his collarbone, down his chest, over his abs. He’s beautiful—scarred and strong and taut with tension. My hands skim his thighs, pushing them wide. His cock is hard, flushed, and already twitching in anticipation.
But I don’t go for it.
Not yet.
Instead, I shift back up, grab the lube we left on the nightstand, and slick my fingers. He watches me, chest heaving, pupils blown wide, every muscle in his body strung tight with anticipation.
“You ready for this?” I ask, my voice low and wrecked, eyes locked on his.
He spreads his legs wider, bending one knee, offering himself up like it’s a fucking challenge. “I want your cock, Rangi. I want youinme.”
Gods.
That alone nearly finishes me. But I pull it together. I nod once, sharp and sure, and then I’m leaning over him, claiming his mouth as I slide a lubed finger into his hole, needing to get him ready to take me. The heat of him punches a groan out of my chest.
His breath stutters against my lips, but he doesn’t pull back. Doesn’t tense. He justtakes it, eyes locked on mine, daring me to stop.
I don’t.
I add a second finger, twisting them, curling them until he gasps and arches into me, mouth falling open in a low, raw moan. His hands fist the sheets, muscles trembling, back bowed like he’s offering everything.
“Still good?” I rasp.
“More,” he growls. “You’re not gonna break me, Rangi. Youbetter notfucking hold back.”
Fuck. That tone—that bite—lights me up.
I roll on a condom then slick more lube over it, watching him the whole time. His eyes drop to my cock as I stroke it, hunger blazing in his expression.
I line up, not teasing, not stalling. “Tell me.”
“Do it,” he growls, voice rough with want. “Fuck me.”
I push in with a slow, steady drive, inch by inch, until I’m fully buried in him. The heat, the tightness, the way he grips around me—it steals the air from my lungs.
He groans—loud—and drags me down into a kiss that’s all teeth and dominance and demand.
“Holy fuck,” I breathe when we break apart, forehead pressed to his. “You feel so good.”
