“The rest of you, breakfast’s over.” There’s a series of groans up and down the table, which I drown out. “Go to your rooms, get ready for training.”
They can swear as much as they like, curse me. None of it will stop me sitting here, drinking my tea, and waiting for them all to fuck off.
One by one, slow as can be, they wander away until finally I’m alone.
The second I’m clear, I’m on my way to the shower room.
It’s a bad idea. A very bad idea. There are rumors swirling already. Jason knows. But he’s busy cleaning shit, so what do I care?
I’m already later than I’d like. Or Robin was too fast. The shower squeaks off, and before I can round the corner, he’s in front of me, a towel draped low around his waist, rivulets of warm water dripping down his chest. “Marco…”
“What did you think you were doing back there?”
He flares beautifully at the provocation. “I didn’t do a thing!”
“Oh, really?” I take a step toward him, the scent of steam and soap like a leash around my neck. “Then whose foot was that beneath the table?”
His pretty lips part, and a warm flush comes into his cheeks. The slightest smile twists his mouth admirably.
“Are you fucking with me, birdie?”
“I wouldn’t fuck with you, Marco.” He takes a step back, but I know it’s just so I can pin him to the locker.
I do it with pleasure, bracing a hand over his shoulder, taking the other to his chin to hold his face up to mine. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to?”
He holds my gaze, steady. Then lunges. It’s fast, and it’s violent. His teeth clash against mine, his tongue rough and hungry. He grabs my hand and takes it to his dick, firm and bulging through the towel, absolutelymonstrous in length and girth. He works my hand over his cock like I owe him for the trouble. Like this isn’t the first hard-on I’ve given him.
“Let me,” he rasps, fingers pulling up my tunic, finding the waistband beneath. “I bet you taste so fucking good.”
His fingers have just slipped around the crown of my dick when we hear it. The scuff of sandals on the tile floor. We break the kiss, breathing hard, listening. Robin’s head turns toward the entrance, perfect in profile, like a god. Then his hand starts moving again.
“Who’s there?” I shout, eyes glued to his face as his head rolls back against the locker, a wide grin growing with every pump of my dick.
“It’s, uh…” Cas’s voice.Fuck. “It’s the fixture sheet. It’s here early. They said to, um…”
“Out!” I shout in as authoritative a voice as I can summon, knowing full well I probably sound like a man being taken apart, which is exactly what I am.
“Yep,” Cas mumbles. “Yep. Going. Now.”
Thank fuck.
That lustful twinkle reaches right to the back of Robin’s eyes. I grasp him at the wrist, withdraw him slowly. The grin doesn’t fade once, even as he slides his thumb over my slit, raises it, coated in precum, and sinks it into his mouth.
It’s gratuitous. It’s pure sex. If I hadn’t shot my load an hour ago, dreaming of this exact mouth, he could probably make me come just watching him. He sinks his thumb deep between his lips, and what I’d give for that to be my dick.
I want to finish him, work his huge cock through this towel, leave him a breathless, begging heap. I’m sorely tempted to push him down to the floor and make all my dreams from this morning a reality.
But on the other hand, I also want him thinking about me during training. I want him desperate for me by lunchtime. I want him in my villa tonight.
“You heard the man, baby bird. I’ll see you out there in two minutes.”
His face falls, and I didn’t think it would be possible for such a warrior-like physique to look so petulant. “You’re not going to leave me like this.”
“I am.” I run my hand down the length of his cock one last time. “And you’re not going to touch it. You’re going to save it for me.”
“I can’t. Marco…” I’m already halfway across the room. “Marco!”
“You’ve got one minute now,” I call back. And it’s not easy to wipe the smile off my face before I turn the corner to join the rest of the team.
