He touched Scar’s neck, found his pulse there beating fast and erratic.
Scar wasn’t calm…he was choosing calm.
And that was all it took.
Gage surged up and collided with Scar’s mouth.
Scar rolled their hips together, creating slow friction and causing Gage’s body to ignite with an arousal so overwhelming it almost made him laugh at himself.
Not because it was funny.
But because his entire life, he thought he’d have to live a stoic, mundane existence like his parents, and be married to a timid, sweet little submissive wife. Living so careful and predictable—void of passion or excitement—that it didn’t feel like living at all.
As if that was what would make him a good man.
If he hadn’t been in the wrong place at the wrong time, gotten convicted, sentenced to five years, before being kidnapped, experimented on, and tortured, he would’ve never known this feeling.
He wouldn’t know how amazing, erotic, and life-changing the male body could feel between his thighs.
Life sure worked in mysterious ways.
His hands were everywhere now, just as Scar asked.
He moved in tandem with one arm hooked around Scar’s back and the other tangled in his hair. Not yanking, just anchoring, as he licked a long path beneath Scar’s ear.
Scar went rigid at the touch, as if he’d found the switch that turned him from disciplined to ravenous. Felt it in the way Scar’s tongue pressed in deeper and how he ground his hips harder.
I don’t know what to do!
He wished he did. He wanted to know how to make Scar’s control keep slipping, what the next level was after this.
So he did what he’d been doing all this time…he learned.
He let Scar’s kisses, his hands, and body teach him.
Gage broke the kiss enough to breathe, their foreheads hovering close.
The air between them was electric and charged.
Scar groaned, his chest rising and falling, trembling as if he were struggling to keep his discipline on a tight leash.
“You’re being careful.” He touched Scar’s cheek. “You don’t have to.”
Scar turned his head and brushed his lips along his palm. “Yeah, I do. I want you so bad it scares me.”
He kissed Scar again, slowly but with more heat, letting him feel he wasn’t flinching away from him, wasn’t repulsed by the anger or violence underneath his skin.
He gripped Scar’s wrist and pushed his hand lower, lower, until it was inside the waistband of his sweats.
Please.
“Fuck, Gage.”
He urged Scar’s hand farther still, until it brushed the base of his cock.
The first touch of Scar’s hot skin on him sent a jolt up his spine.
He arched his back as a cry of pleasure tried to push past his clenched teeth.
