A laugh scraped out of me, bitter and disbelieving. “You don’tthink. You just—” I gestured vaguely at him, at the way he loomed over me, and his thumb traced the inside of my knee. “You justdo.”
“No.” His voice was rough, lower than usual. “I think about you. All the time.” His fingers tightened, nails biting into my skin through the fabric of my combats. “I think about how you look when you’re pissed off. How your mouth gets tight. How youreyes go dark.” His other hand slid up my chest, palm flattening over my heart. “I think about marking you with my come, I think about making you come.”
The words hit like a punch to the gut. I barked out another laugh, but it came out strained. “Christ, Novak. You sound like a bad porn script.” Then I realized what I’d said. “Not that there’s such a thing as a bad porn script.” I exhaled sharply as his thumb pressed harder, right over my cock, which twitched, traitorous and eager, and I hated how obvious it was. Hated even more how much I didn’t care. “But you’reterribleat dirty talk.”
His fingers stilled. For the first time, something flickered in his expression—uncertainty, maybe. As if my mocking had thrown him off balance. Fuck, that wasinteresting. I didn’t mean to upset him because I thought he could take it.
“How should I talk instead?” he asked, concerned.
I grabbed the front of his shirt, yanking him closer. “If you’re gonna say anything, at leastmeanit.” His breath hitched, and I felt the shift in his body, the way his weight settled forward, pressing me into the counter. “Or shut up anddosomething.”
“Okay,” his hand dropped to his belt. “Suck me.”
I should’ve told him to go to hell. Should’ve knelt to drive a fist into his balls. But the way his voice roughened, the way his dark eyes burned into mine—fuck, Iwantedto. My pulse hammered in my throat as he shoved his combat pants down enough to free his cock, thick and heavy.
I licked my lips. I could imagine my mouth on him, and he was so fucking big, and sexy…
His nostrils flared, and he tilted his head. I could back out now, step away, laugh this off—as much as I could laugh off anything with a psychopath, but no, I dropped to my knees in front of him. I wrapped my hand around the base of his cock, feeling the weight of him, the way his breath stuttered as I leaned in. His scent hit me first—salt and leather and somethingdarker, somethinghim—before I dragged my tongue up the underside of his shaft. His muscles locked, thighs tensing, but he didn’t move. Not so much as a twitch as I stared up at him, watching me with that unnerving stillness.
I took him into my mouth, slow at first, savoring the way his breath quickened, the way his fingers flexed against his thighs as he fought the urge to grab me. Would he grip my hair, hold me in place, and make me take it? Was he scared to do that? Did he want to choke me? Or praise me, or be so fucking gentle he broke me? His cock thickened on my tongue. I hollowed my cheeks, taking him deeper. His groan was low, guttural, and he braced against the counter, knuckles white.
“Caleb—” His voice broke. “Your mouth?—”
I smirked. “You like that?”
His jaw clenched. “Again.”
“Hands in my hair, Novak,” I ordered and went back to sucking.
This time, I didn’t hold back. I took him to the back of my throat, swallowing around the head, and his entire body jerked. His free hand tangled in my hair, not pulling, justholding. I worked him harder, faster, my own cock aching in my combats, but I ignored it. This wasn’t about me. Not yet.
His hips moved in shallow thrusts that turned rougher as his breathing fractured. “Gonna—” His grip tightened. “Gonna come.”
His cock swelled, pulse racing against my tongue, and then he was coming down my throat with a groan that sounded as if it had been ripped out of him. I swallowed the first, eased my sucking for the rest, and he marked my face, my own body trembling with the effort of not touching myself. When I finally released him, his cock was still half-hard, glistening with spit, and his chest heaved as if he’d run a mile.
For a second, we were frozen. Then his fingers slid from my hair, tracing down my cheek, his thumb brushing my bottom lip. His touch was surprisingly gentle, almost reverent, and it sent a shiver down my spine.
His thumb brushed my cheekbone, smearing his come into my skin, and the possessive satisfaction in his gaze made my stomach twist. “I marked you,” he whispered. “Mine.”
Well, fuck if that wasn’t the hottest thing I’d ever heard after giving a blowjob. I should’ve wiped his come off my face and told him to get the hell out. But the way he looked at me—like I washis—sent a thrill through me I couldn’t ignore.
He stepped back. “Take your cock out, Caleb,” he ordered.
My default with Novak was to argue, but his order short-circuited every rational thought. He took another step back, giving himself room to work, and I fumbled with my fly. My dick sprang free, already leaking. I stroked myself once, twice, but his voice stopped me.
“Don’t touch.” His command was rough.
I bit back a groan. “Fuck you, Novak.”
“Leon,” he said, his voice rough. “My name isLeon.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“You can call me that.”
I didn’t have time to answer before he sank to his knees and pulled out my cock, his breath ghosting over the head before he wrapped his fingers around the base and gave a firm stroke.
“Novak,” I bit out, hips jerking forward without permission.
