“Calm down. You’re going to hyperventilate if you keep that up.”
“I’m going to lose my mind if you don’t start riding my cock,” I reply as I raise my hips, pushing deeper into him.
Aron sighs. “Watch those ribs, sir. I don’t want to have to explain a sex-oriented injury to the docs when we’re done.” He slowly rises, then lowers again. Up and down, up and down, in a smooth, easy rhythm. “We’re equals now, remember? This time, I lead.”
From anyone else, I’d resent those words. From Aron? They only serve to turn me on even more.
Each movement of his hips brings me to a new level of ecstasy. Despite his admonitions not to breathe too hard, I can’t help myself. The wet cotton threatens to suffocate me until Aronleans forward and pulls the neck of the garment up over my chin. He doesn’t fully release me, but now I can breathe unhindered.
Until, that is, he kisses me.
The kiss, sudden and unexpected, takes away that breath I fought for, leaving heaven in its place.
A knock at the gym’s door startles me, and Aron groans.
“Fuck. They came back. I was hoping they’d leave us alone for another hour or so.”
Another hour? Jesus Christ in Heaven, the thought alone of another hour of this exquisite torture is almost enough to send me over the edge.
“What the fuck do you want?” Aron yells at the locked door. “We’re busy.”
I snicker under my breath, thinking about all the times in my youth that Aron covered for my trysts by telling the other guards I was “busy.”
“We’re sorry, dons, but there’s a message from Mrs. Mangi—er, from Mrs. Martinez. From the Empire.”
I thought I had avoided the stage in life where my mom could interrupt my sexual liaisons.
“Five fucking minutes!” Aron shouts, punctuating each word with another bounce on my cock. “Just give us five fucking minutes!”
Since our time alone is at an end, Aron starts riding me in earnest, his hips pounding mine into the mat with such force that I wonder if I’ll be able to walk after this. I can only imagine the looks on our guards’ faces when we both stumble out of the gym like drunkards, with disheveled clothes and hair.
“You couldn’t give us a little longer, so we could shower?” I ask with a grin as he grunts and moans.
“Our secret’s out of the bag now, right? What’s the point if we can’t have some fun with it?”
Rather than set me at ease, his blasé attitude concerns me. It’s a rapid shift from the melancholy of earlier today, and I wonder about his mental state. Aron has always been the calm, collected one. Even in our college days, he never treated his sex life as something to parade around. Why is he suddenly so bold?
I struggle to free myself from the shirt, but it’s no use. Whatever trick he used to wrap my hands has them locked tight.
“Stop fighting, Matt. I’m so fucking close …”
He clenches his ass, and I momentarily forget my worries as my cum pumps into him. Aron stills for a second, coming on my stomach and chest, then lifts off of me. I hiss in pain as he kisses me one more time, less gently than before.
“Shit, sorry. I got carried away.”
Carried away? What the hell?
Something has snapped in Aron, and I make mental note to find out exactly what the next time we’re alone.
Chapter 6
Aron
The whole time we’re rushing to get dressed before opening the door for the guards, Matt keeps giving me the strangest looks. I’d ask what’s up, but we just don’t have time.
Lucinda has made an offer: Turn control of the Syndicate over to her, and she’ll spare as many lives as possible in the process.
Matt smashed the computer that our in-house hacker Holly showed him the email on, which didn’t do a damned thing but waste a perfectly good laptop. I’m about to tell him exactly that, but her twin brother Hank beats me to it.
