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Marc was still holding himself open, and Darius drove into him, bottoming out in one stroke.
“Fuck!” Marc shouted.
“Is this what you wanted?” Darius asked as he drove in again, so hard Marc slid toward the headboard.
“Fucking bastard!”
“That’s right. You love me that way.” He pulled out slowly, and Marc glared at him. Then he pressed in inch by inch. It was hell holding himself back. Marc’s tight, hot arse was so fucking inviting, but he gritted his teeth and made himself go so slowly he was barely moving.
“What the fuck are you doing to me?”
“Punishing you,” Darius growled.
“For what?”
“Making me wait.”
Marc glared at him. “I was working. You’re the one who decided to stay.”
“Like you didn’t want this?”
“I—”
Darius drove all the way in again.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
“Don’t tell me you weren’t thinking about this while you were sewing. You knew how to use that goddamn serger, but you couldn’t think because this is what you needed.”
Marc shook his head. “I needed to work.”
“You needed to be fucked, but I had to let you finish. Now you’re paying the price.”
Marc glared at him. “I’m not fucking paying you with my fucking body.”
Something shifted in that moment. Was Marc actually mad? Did he not get that this was a game as much as the ones they’d played at the shop? Darius pulled all the way out. Then he leaned over Marc and pinned his arms.
“Is that what you think?” Darius didn’t wait for him to answer. “You actually believe I think this is payment? This is a game, a fucking hot game. You don’t owe me anything.”
Marc’s mouth dropped open. “I…I thought…”
Darius sat back. “Maybe this was a mis—”
“No. I’m just being too… I don’t know.”
How the fuck did they go from best sex ever to this awkward shit? “I told you the first day that nothing about your job is based on this. That’s why I never do this.”
“Fuck employees?”
“Right.”
“Except now you do.”
He was going to fuck this up. He was going to lose Marc and have to hire someone else.
Finding a new employee wouldn’t be the only problem.
“I should stop.”
Marc shook his head. “No, don’t stop.”
He looked so sincere and so hurt. Darius could barely breathe. He had to get them back on track.
“Turn over.”
“Darius?”
“Do you want to be fucked or not?” Darius asked.
“Yes, but I—”
“If we talk, it will all go to shit.”
Fucking coward.
Marc studied him for a few moments. Darius couldn’t read his expression. Was he angry, hurt, desperate?
Marc turned over and positioned himself on his hands and knees. “Fuck me so hard we don’t have time to think.”
Yes, that was what they both needed.
No, what you both need is a kick in the arse and some motherfucking courage.
Shut up!
Darius positioned himself behind Marc. They should have just done this to start with. No games, just getting off. And never face-to-face. They didn’t need any emotions involved here, only the drive to come.
Marc cried out when Darius drove in hard, but Darius didn’t slow down. Marc clung to a pillow as Darius jackhammered his ass.
“Yes! Yesss! Fuck me, Darius. Fuck me so good.”
“Goddamn right I will. You’re going to feel this for days.”
“Please! God, I can’t…”
Darius couldn’t think. There was nothing but Marc’s body gripping his cock. The world started to go dark.
“Close. Fucking close,” Marc murmured. He reached underneath himself and stroked his cock, biting down on the pillow to muffle his shouts. When his arse tightened around Darius, that was all Darius needed to push him over. He pumped his hips against Marc’s as he shot his load. Christ, it felt so good. Marc was fucking perfect.
They both collapsed, panting. When Darius thought there was a fucking chance he could move, he pulled out, tossed the condom, and then flopped back down next to Marc.
“Fuck, I need a shower.” Darius’s whole body shone with sweat.
“Mmm” was all Marc said. Darius didn’t think he was really awake.
He stared at the ceiling, not really seeing anything. A jumble of thoughts ran through his head. He liked Marc, really liked him. He was different from anyone else Darius had been with. And his arse was amazing. But what had he been thinking to bring Marc here?
Sorting through his jumbled thoughts seemed like an awful lot of effort, so he let himself drift. A few moments later he tried to wake himself up. He should get up and shower. He should send Marc home. He should…sleep. Yes, sleep was so seductive, almost as much so as Marc.
Conscious thoughts grew further apart.
The next thing he knew, the alarm was blaring. He slapped at it. Why was it so motherfucking loud? Why was he lying on top of the covers? Oh, fuck… Marc.
He turned over, but the bed was empty, and there wasn’t a sound in the apartment. Marc had slunk away, not that Darius could blame him. Why would Marc think Darius wanted him to stay?
