He slid his hand down Marlow’s stomach and under the waistband of his pants, then swore, sharp and surprised, as he yanked it back out.
Fuck.Marlow’s brain shrugged off the fog of lust a minute too late.
“I forgot,” Marlow said. He propped himself up on his elbows. “Fuck, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
Cade shook his hand like he could shed the sting. His fingertips were blistered, distinct watery stripes raised under the skin, and his hand trembled visibly for a second until he clenched it into a fist.
“What the hell does the Night Shift keep in their pants?” Cade asked.
Old, flustered embarrassment made Marlow flush, a hot wash that started at his collarbones and rose from there. He scrubbed his hand through his tangled hair.
“We get them when we’re rookies,” he said. “If we survive our first full moon on the streets, then we get drunk enough that that seemed like a good idea. Is your hand okay?”
Marlow tried to grab Cade’s hand to check it, but Cade pulled away from him. He clenched and relaxed his fist a couple of times, and then he reached out to brush his fingertips over Marlow’s mouth.
“Kiss it better,” he suggested. “Then we’ll see.”
Heat caught in the back of Marlow’s throat at the suggestion. He opened his mouth, and Cade dipped silver-scalded fingers between his lips. Marlow laved the injury with his tongue as he sucked gently, his eyes intent on Cade as he worked.
His stomach tightened, his balls heavy and tight between his legs, as Cade pressed his fingertips down against his tongue. After a second, Cade pulled his hand back, fingers damp as he cupped Marlow’s chin and tilted his head back.
“Let me see it,” he said.
Marlow licked his lips. “It’s not exactly legal,” he pointed out, his voice scratchy with how much hedidn’twant to argue with Cade right now.
“I know, that’s why it’s hot,” Cade said. He pushed himself off Marlow and sprawled back over the messy bed, shoulders propped against the padded headboard. He slid one hand down his stomach to cup the thick jut of his cock through his trousers. “And I’m already harboring a fugitive, so apparently I want to live dangerously. Show me.”
He tucked his free hand behind his head and waited.
Marlow hesitated for a second and then scrambled up onto his knees. His pants were already unbuttoned, barely caught on his lean hips. He hooked his fingers in the waistband and pushed them down to his thighs.
His cock was already hard enough it ached dully as it jutted up toward his stomach. Silver glittered just under the head, a thick barbell pierced through the frenulum and secured with a black bead on either side. The sight of it made Cade catch his breath and shift his weight uncomfortably on the bed, even as his hand tightened around the bulge of his erection.
“Doesn’t it hurt you at all?” Cade asked.
Marlow wrapped his fingers around his cock and lazily stroked it. His fingers slid over the metal, and he felt it shift under the skin. Most of the time he barely thought about it. But under Cade’s fascinated scrutiny, Marlow was suddenly as awkwardly aware of the weight and thickness of it as he’d been for the first few days after he was pierced.
“It did at first,” he said. “Now, not unless I catch it on something. Usually, I swap it out for a silicone placeholder, but…”
He trailed off with a shrug and flicked the bar with his thumb—a hot tug of pain. He tightened his grip around the base of it until he could feel his blood pulse against his fingers.
“So I can’t touch your cock—”
“Not unless you have a pair of pliers,” Marlow said. A sly smile tucked the corner of his mouth. “Or a heavy-duty condom.”
Cade snorted and licked his stung fingers. Something about the gesture reached right down Marlow’s suddenly parched throat and gave his cock a tug. He felt the twitch of reaction against his fingers.
“Yeah, Russian Roulette never appealed to me,” he said. “I like to be in control.”
“So do I,” Marlow said. A slight hint of mockery cut through his voice as he cocked his head to the side. “Think that’s going to be a problem?”
Cade cupped his hand around Marlow’s chin and pulled him forward until Marlow’s body was stretched out in one long, lean line and his hands braced on Cade’s thighs. He grazed his thumb—rough-callused and damp—over Marlow’s lower lip, and Marlow closed his eyes as he leaned into Cade’s touch.
“I don’t see why,” Cade said. The low, roughly sensual scrape of his voice harked back to that first day in the lift. Pleasure tickled down Marlow’s spine, from the nape of his neck to the small of his back. “I think, just this once, you’re going to enjoy someone else being in charge.”
“And next time?” Marlow asked.
There was a pause for a heartbeat, and then Cade leaned in for a slow, sweet kiss that filled Marlow with a warm, safe feeling.
