“They would have killed for the privilege of being tripped over.”
“You are ridiculous.”
“But you love it.” Rakos’s smile gleams even through the darkness, and the wordlovepunches through Bellamy.
That’s not what Rakos meant. Definitely not. Bellamy clings to the belief that this is casual. But for a moment, as Rakos takes him, none of that matters. Bellamy’s future and position and responsibilities don’t matter. Nobody can stop him from loving every moment of this. From loving the man fucking him into the wagon floor.
Rakos braces himself with one forearm by Bellamy’s head and drops the other between them. “How close are you?”
“I don’t know.” Rakos’s hand closes around his cock, and Bellamy whimpers. “Really close,” he amends. “Really, really, really close.”
“Great, because your ass is so fucking hot around me. I’m going to blow any second now.”
“Go ahead,” Bellamy pants. “Whenever you feel like it. Fuck, I sound stupid.”
“Oh good, we can both be ridiculous,” Rakos says with a grin, and seals Bellamy’s mouth with his.
Bellamy is so dizzy, his entire being suffused with pleasure, all he can do is cling to Rakos and kiss him back. Lie back and take the delicious, quickening pounding.
Rakos swears, his hand on Bellamy’s cock stuttering. He breaks away from the kiss and buries his face in Bellamy’s shoulder, and the low groan that grumbles from his throat is the hottest thing Bellamy has ever heard.
His cock still hard inside Bellamy, Rakos strokes Bellamy just a few more times before Bellamy joins him in release. Bellamy arches back, vision darkening. No sight of magic. He only needs this, and nothing hurts.
Rakos kisses Bellamy’s forehead as he comes down. The tip of his nose. The briefest, lightest kiss to his lips. Bellamy touches Rakos’s lips too. “That was incredible.”
“Aren’t you afraid of feeding my ego?” Rakos asks.
“I’m not afraid of anything right now.”
Rakos swears in Draskoran and pulls from Bellamy’s body.
Bellamy’s sure he’ll feel the aches and bruises tomorrow. The full force of his fatigue. But right now, he feels only a floaty bliss. They don’t even rise to clean up. Rakos just slumps beside Bellamy and wraps him in his arms.
“There’s one more thing I wasn’t honest about,” Rakos says quietly.
“Terrible man. What is it?”
Rakos holds him tighter. “I don’t think this is casual for me after all.”
Bellamy’s heart soars, then plummets.
?
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Rakos
It’s one of the easiest things Rakos has ever said in his life. Between the adrenaline of the fight, the intense relief that Bell hasn’t rejected him, and the hazy afterglow of orgasm, Rakos’s few inhibitions have scattered. He nuzzles the back of Bell’s neck, running a possessive hand over his stomach. Sweat and seed sticks between them.
Before he can say anything else ill-advised, Bell rolls over in his arms. He grabs Rakos by the face and kisses him quiet, with all the sweetness and light Rakos needs from him. “You are ridiculous.”
“You said that already.”
Bell kisses him again. “It’s still true.” He buries his head against Rakos’s chest. “I’m too tired. Don’t say anything else tonight. Just let me enjoy this.”
Rakos kisses the top of his head. An overwhelming, giddy love spreads through his chest. “Sweet dreams, Bell.”
Just a few hours later, Rakos sits on the back of the wagon, idly tossing pebbles for Bastard as the sun rises. His every movement is mechanical. Mindless. He’s mentally drained in the best way. Like a huge weight has been lifted from his shoulders.
