Aleksandr’s hand is suddenly on my throat, and my dick twitches.
“Shut the fuck up,” he says coldly, and his mouth is so close to mine that I can feel his breath against my lips.
“You know it’s true,” I mumble. I don’t know why I’m doing this. It’s stupid. It’s so incredibly stupid. I shouldn’t be trying to rile him up. I shouldn’t want to feel his mouth against mine, or his hands on my body.
I don’t need this kind of thing to complicated my life…and yet. Here I am.
Looking into his eyes and practically begging him to move in closer.
“You want me,” I tell him with a smirk. “Is that so hard to believe?”
I watch Aleksandr’s throat bob as he swallows. “You’re such a fucking brat.”
Suddenly he pulls me further away from the door and across the alleyway to the side of a dumpster. I step backwards as heshoves me and my back hits the brick wall of the building beside the fight club.
“What are you—?” I don’t get my words out before his lips claim mine. It’s not slow or hesitant. No. Aleksandr kisses me hard and sloppy. His tongue immediately seeks to enter my mouth and I part my lips against his hot wet ones and let him in before I’ve even processed what’s happening.
My eyes flutter closed and I grab at his sides trying to find something, anything, to keep me steady.
I kiss him back messy and hot, my tongue fights against his for dominance, but his wins. Swirling and pushing against mine like he doesn’t just have it for this moment, but like he owns it.
My cracked lip bleeds into his mouth, stinging and aching, but I don’t care and he doesn’t seem to mind.
He’s not careful with me in this moment, no, he’s rough and ready. I push my hips against his and grind myself against the front of his body, feeling our cocks rub together through the fabric.
“Ahhh, fuck,” I moan through the kiss, my words muffled and damp.
Every little sound is loud in my ears. The panting of breath, the slick suction of our kiss, and the textured brick scraping against my jeans and shirt.
I shouldn’t be doing this, not at all… I should be focusing on the Bianchi’s, I should be training Nikolas and Beau… I should be doing literally anything but this. Especially out here in public.
Sure, there’s a rusty dumpster hiding us, but anyone could find us at any time.
My cock throbs and I swear I feel precum dripping out of me already. I like the fact that we could be found at any moment, I realize.
I enjoy the way Aleksandr gropes my chest and sides with a rough hand and humps back against me and the hard wall. Iwant someone to see. I want someone to find us, and see just how hot we are for each other in the moment.
Except…then it would have to end, so, I’m certainly not complaining that no one seems to have noticed us, yet.
I tell myself that this is one time only. To get it out of my system of course. That’s all.
My hands slide up into Aleksandr’s shirt, gripping and rubbing at his sides, feeling the lithe muscles underneath his skin and the scars that mirror my own. I find myself wondering what exactly caused his, who hurt him…but I don’t ask.
I’m far too focused on his hand that is undoing my jeans and slipping in over my hard, aching length.
“You wanna touch me, pretty boy?” I ask, pulling back from the kiss breathlessly.
Aleksandr’s other hand comes up and wraps around my neck, pushing against my throat. Only making me even harder.
“Shut up,” he hisses, like a needy desperate snake. “You did this.”
“Damn right I did,” I reply and pull him even closer by his bare sides. “Just admit it, you want this.”
“And you don’t?” he asks me in return. “You’re so hard, Tommy. I feel it.” He presses his palm against my dick through my boxers and I groan.
“Do whatever you want to me,” I say dizzily. I’d let him turn me around and rail me against the brick wall if he wants to, but he seems to have a different idea.
He reaches down with his other hand and unzips his own pants before grabbing my hand and guiding it to his crotch.
