Page 246 of Eight of Swords, Part Two

His hand is still on his heart, thumb brushing back and forth over a nearby nipple, which shouldn’t feel as good as it does.

But the strain of lifting his neck to watch becomes annoying, so Kade props himself up on his elbows, bending his knees. Lachlan grabs his leg and slings it casually over the back of his neck.

Kade swallows.

Lachlan’s smile darkens into a dare.

So Kade does the same with his other, crossing them at the ankles.

It’s like a headlock.

He gives a careful, experimental squeeze, pushing Lachlan deeper.

The older man makes a devastatingly slutty sound from the deepest region of his throat, one that ripples torturously through Kade, connected as they are, and his free hand doesn’t return to his heart.

It goes below.

‘Holy fucking shit, fucking—ahh! Mmm, God, please.’

Lachlan’s middle finger circles, playing, teasing sensitive skin.

He’s going to come, he’s gonna come so fucking hard it’ll hurt.

Can’t keep all his pathetic little noises inside anymore. They’re slipping free, through the bars, the cracks, the bones, the blood, escaping.

God, but it feels good to fall apart.

‘Make me come, Bodyguard,’ he moans, demands, fingers gripping to craft his own rhythm, hips rolling up into each swallow. ‘Make me come, that’s it, so good, fuck, do it to me, only you can make me feel like this!’

Bodily bliss is crushing his lungs, crashing violently towards orgasm.

Lachlan’s finger presses just inside.

Julian’s eyes roll all the way back into his head.

His soul is trying to leave his body.

The world goes dark.

And he swims in the inky waters, weightless.

Pleasure this intense is pure possession.

He gives himself to it entirely.

Take all of me, take it, keep it, keep me.

Save me, find me, never leave me.

Peace from chaos.

Slowly, he comes back to himself.

Feeling returns to every part of his body, regulated once more.

But fuck, he feels so relaxed.

So good.