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Maybe he was right, and maybe he wasn’t, but what did it matter? Heat pulsed through his body, and right now, that would have to be enough. “I need lube.”
Caleb nodded to the corner, where a familiar bottle stood. Of course they’d have it everywhere in this house. Not that Roman was complaining. He hurried over, grabbed it, and rushed back, already shoving down his sticky underwear.
“I don’t need prep, Sir.”
“What?”
“I keep myself prepped now, Sir. So you can use me whenever you want. Just you.”
Roman made a sound he didn’t recognize, a sort of growl that came from deep within. Caleb had done that for him. “No one else?”
“No, Sir. Just you.”
He needed to have him. Fire burned through his veins, searing his insides. He put down the bottle and lined up behind Caleb, who helpfully spread his legs. Roman pressed his slick cock against his hole. If someone had told him that going in bare without any prep would be hot, he would’ve thought it ridiculous, but holy fuck, it was the most erotic thing ever.
“Beg for it. Beg for my cock.” The words fell from his lips like a dark promise of pleasure laced with dominance.
“Please, Sir…I need you to fuck me. Need your cock.”
He was lost. Irrevocably, utterly lost. With a shared breath that felt like a silent countdown, he pushed forward. Caleb’s body welcomed him, hot and tight, drawing him in until the world narrowed to the rhythm they created together. Roman gripped Caleb’s hips, anchoring him, each thrust punctuated by a grunt, a gasp, a groan. The smell of sweat and sex mingled, a potent blend that fueled Roman’s hunger.
“You can come when I do,” he snarled, and the little whimper Caleb made only added to the fire.
He fucked him hard, raw, without restraint, and Caleb met him thrust for thrust, taking everything Roman threw at him. They were caught up in it—the slick slide of flesh, the needy sounds between exhales—when the door creaked open.
Roman tensed, his gaze snapping toward the intrusion. Ryan and Alex stood there, frozen, eyes wide. Shit. Reality crashed over Roman like a bucket of ice water to his overheated body. He’d completely forgotten where they were, that the gym was a public space where anyone could walk in. He should’ve taken Caleb back to his room, should’ve ensured privacy.
“Fuck.” The word spat from Roman’s lips. But he didn’t stop, couldn’t stop, even as awareness prickled his skin. Caleb was panting against him, sharing his every breath. They were close, so goddamn close, and Roman was teetering on the edge of a precipice he had no intention of backing away from.
“Don’t stop, Sir,” Caleb urged, voice raspy, his plea slicing through Roman’s hesitation. Caleb’s eyes didn’t reflect any shame, only the same wild need clawing at Roman’s control.
So he didn’t. He kept moving, kept claiming, kept owning every gasp and whimper Caleb surrendered to him. He rode the wave of exhilaration, of taboo, of the forbidden thrill that came with being watched. His rhythm never faltered, even as Ryan and Alex came closer, unashamedly watching them. Their presence, a silent audience to the carnal display, only heightened the tension coiling in Roman’s core.
A guttural sound broke from Ryan’s throat as he grabbed Alex and shed their clothes in a frenzied dance of limbs. They were entangled in seconds, their rhythm mirroring Roman and Caleb’s. Grunts mixed with flesh slapping against flesh and heavy breathing—the raw music of primal need.
The sight spurred Roman on and drove him deeper into the haze of pleasure clouding his vision. He saw nothing but Caleb’s flushed skin, felt nothing but the tight heat enveloping him, and heard nothing but the collective symphony of their unrestrained desires.
With each snap of his hips, Roman chased the edge, barreling toward release. Caleb keened below him, a siren call that beckoned Roman closer to the brink. His name, a ragged chant on Caleb’s lips, was the last push Roman needed. Pleasure erupted, fierce and blinding, ripping through him like a storm. He allowed himself to fall, to shatter, to give in to the pulse of pleasure that obliterated everything else. Caleb shuddered against him, crying out as he, too, came.
Roman leaned against the wall, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. What the hell had come over him?
But more importantly, why didn’t he feel any shame?
14
Caleb had every expectation of being discarded. Surely Roman had been spooked by getting caught and would make a run for it, unable to face Ryan and Alex. He braced himself for the inevitable rejection…but it never came.
Instead, Roman gently pulled out and nuzzled Caleb’s neck with a sweet, tender movement. Caleb’s stomach went all soft and swirly. “You good?”
“Yes, Sir. That was amazing.”
“Yeah.” Roman huffed out a short laugh. “Didn’t mean to get caught in public, though.”
“I’m sorry, Sir. I should’ve reminded you to lock the door.”
Roman tugged his shoulder until Caleb turned around, almost tripping over his feet with his shorts still around his ankles.
“Let me take care of that first.” Roman grabbed a gym towel and cleaned Caleb up, then bent and carefully pulled Caleb’s shorts up. “There. That’s better. Can’t have you face-plant because of me.”
