I grabbed his shirt. "You're not fine. You're hurt, and you’re out here hurting yourself more, and I don’t like it."
"So what do you want from me?" He stepped closer. "You want me to quit?"
"No." My hands curled into fists. "I want—"
I couldn't say it.
"You want what, Rafael?" He moved closer still, close enough that I could feel heat radiating off his body despite the cold rain. "Say it."
"You." The word ripped out of me. "I want you so badly I can't think straight. I want to put you on your knees in the mud and fuck your mouth until you choke on my cock. I want—"
I stopped. I couldn't tell him about the fantasies that kept me awake at night, the ones where I made him cry, where I marked him so thoroughly that everyone would know he was mine.
A slow smile spread across Lorenzo's face.
I stared at him. "What?"
"You. When you're pissed off and trying not to fuck me." He tilted his head. "You get this look. Like you want to either kill me or wreck me, and you can't decide which."
"Lorenzo—"
"It's the priest thing, I think." He kept talking like I hadn't spoken. "All that repression. All that control. And underneath it, you're just desperate to make me cry on your cock."
I clenched my fists and tried to ignore the way my cock throbbed in my jeans.
"You want to know what I think about?" He stepped even closer. We were almost touching now. "I think about how you'll snap eventually. How you'll stop trying to be careful and just take what you want. Howyou'll—"
I grabbed him by the throat. Not hard enough to cut off air, just enough to stop the words spilling out of his mouth, enough to feel his pulse hammering under my palm.
"You talk too much," I growled.
His smile widened. "So make me stop."
The last thread of control I'd been clinging to snapped clean through.
I crushed my mouth to his and swallowed whatever smart remark he'd been about to make. I fisted his wet hair and yanked his head back so I could get the angle I needed.
He opened for me immediately and met my aggression with his own, hands coming up to grip my shirt and pull me closer. We stumbled through the mud, neither of us was willing to break apart long enough to find stable footing.
I bit his lower lip hard, and the taste of copper bloomed across my tongue. He was mine, and I was going to make sure he never forgot it.
Lorenzo made a sound that was part pain, part pleasure, all encouragement and dug his fingers into my shoulders.
"Harder," he choked out when I pulled back for air. Blood ran from his split lip and mixed with the downpour. "Come on, priest. I know you can hurt me better than that."
The taunt hit exactly where he meant it to. I bit him again and felt his lip tear further under my teeth. I licked the blood away while he moaned into my mouth.
"This what you wanted?" I growled, grinding against him through our soaked clothes. "You wanted to make me lose control?"
His smirk only widened. “What do you think?”
My hands fisted in his soaked shirt. The fabric was cold and heavy, clinging to the heat of his body underneath. I spun him and drove him back against the cabin wall. The impact shuddered through my arms, through my chest, wood groaning under the force.
Then I turned his head and kissed him like I could devour him whole. There was some part of me that still worried I might. My cock throbbed in my jeans, already aching. I'd been half-hard watching him move through the storm, but now I was fully erect and straining against denim that felt too tight, too restrictive. Every pulse of my heartbeat sent blood rushing south until all I could think about was pressure and heat and need.
I let my hand slide down his chest, over his stomach where muscles jumped and contracted under my touch. I stopped at his waistband and pressed there, enjoying the way he trembled a little too much.
Lorenzo let out a low groan as I squeezed his hard cock through his jeans.
