Off. Zain pulled off with a wet sound that Seth felt in his spine. Looked up at him with a mouth that was red and slick and the most obscene thing Seth had ever seen.
"Not yet."
"You absolutebastard."
"Get on the bed."
"Or what?"
Zain stood. The movement was fluid, predatory, and suddenly Seth was reminded that this man had killed people tonight too,had broken Levi's wrist and struck his throat with the efficiency of a machine, and those same hands were now steering Seth backward toward the mattress with a grip that didn't ask.
Seth's knees hit the bed. He sat. Looked up. Zain was stripping, finally, pulling his shirt over his head, and the sight of him, the scars and the muscle and the tattoo script in Arabic along his ribs that Seth still hadn't asked about, made Seth's mouth go dry.
"On your stomach," Zain said.
"Say please."
Zain leaned down. Put his mouth against Seth's ear. "Get on your stomach before I put you there. And if you say one more bratty thing, I'm going to edge you until you cry."
"That's not the threat you think it is."
"Seth."
"Fine." Seth flipped over. Pressed his face into the pillow. His cock was trapped against the mattress and every shift of his hips sent a jolt through him that made his toes curl. "Happy?"
"Getting there."
The mattress dipped. Zain's weight settled over him, the full press of a larger body covering his, and the sheer animal reality of it, being pinned, being covered, being held down by someone who wanted him and wouldn't hurt him, did the thing that all the numbness couldn't. It reached the frozen place inside his chest and cracked it.
Zain's mouth moved down his spine. Kissing. Biting. Marking. Each point of contact a brand that saidhere, you're here, this is now.When he reached the base of Seth's spine, he bit the curve of his ass and Seth yelped into the pillow.
"Did you just -"
"Shut up." Zain spread him open with both hands.
"OhGod-"
Zain's mouth found him and Seth stopped being a person with opinions and became a body with nerve endings. He buried his face in the pillow and made sounds that he'd deny later, sounds that were begging and cursing and Zain's name repeated like a mantra, while Zain took him apart with his tongue with the same patient, ruthless focus he brought to everything.
Seth was shaking. His hands twisted in the sheets. His hips tried to grind against the mattress and Zain's hands held them still, denying even that, and the helplessness of it, the complete surrender of control to someone he trusted with the ugliest parts of himself, was the thing that finally reached through the nothing and made him feel.
"Zain, please -please- I need -"
"Tell me what you need." Zain's voice was rough. Wrecked. Not controlled anymore.
"You. Inside me. Now. I can't… I need to feel you -"
"Turn over. I want to see your face."
Seth turned. He was a mess. He knew it. Hard and leaking and flushed and shaking and his eyes were bright with something that wasn't quite tears but was close enough to scare him.
Zain looked at him the way he'd looked at him on the gym mat the first time. Like he was seeing something he hadn't expected. Something that changed the math.
"You're so fucking beautiful," Zain said. The words sounded like they'd been dragged out of him against his will.
"Don't go soft on me now."
"Never." Zain reached for the nightstand. Lube. His hands were shaking, Seth noticed. Cataloged it. Held it like evidence. Zain's hands shook for him.
