Malik nuzzled his mate. “We’re going to be the most boring couple on the planet. Promise.”
Chapter Ten
Malik had given up gambling. It hadn’t been easy, and he still struggled at times, but Indy could see the effort his mate was putting into it.
Warm breath hit the side of Indy’s throat just below his jaw, followed by the press of lips. Malik’s mouth was doing something distracting with his pulse point.
“I’m working,” Indy said, attempting to sound stern, but tilted his head to give Malik better access.
Teeth grazed skin, and Indy’s knees wobbled. He reached back with one hand, trying to push Malik away, but his mate caught his wrist and held it, pulling him until Indy’s back was pressed against the solid wall of Malik’s chest.
“The shop is closed,” Malik murmured, his hand sliding around to rest low on Indy’s stomach. Heat radiated through his body.
“That doesn't mean—” Malik’s tongue traced a path from collarbone to jaw, frying Indy’s brain cells. The clipboard clattered to the floor. “Someone could come by. Mrs. Park sometimes—”
Malik pulled him back harder, and Indy felt the unmistakable evidence of his mate’s arousal pressing against him. His own body responded immediately, his own cock hardening.
“Office,” Malik growled, already steering them toward the back room.
Indy stumbled as Malik walked them backward through the doorway. The cramped space smelled like soil and cut stems, familiar scents that mixed with Malik’s wild scent and made Indy’s head swim. His hip bumped the edge of the desk, rattling the empty coffee mugs from that morning.
Indy yelped, then laughed.
Malik grinned. “Need me to kiss your boo-boo?”
“It hurts right here.” Indy smacked his own ass.
Malik grinned. “Drop your pants and I’ll kiss away the pain.”
Turning in Malik’s arms took effort in the tight space, but then Indy was facing him, looking up at his mate’s face. Malik’s eyes had gone dark, focused on Indy with the singular attention that always made breathing problematic. Large hands framed Indy’s face, thumbs brushing across cheekbones, and then Malik was kissing him.
The kiss started controlled but quickly became something else. Malik’s tongue swept into his mouth, claiming and hungry, and Indy grabbed at his mate’s shirt for balance. The desk edge pressed into the backs of his thighs as Malik crowded him against it, the wood creaking under their combined weight.
Breaking the kiss, Malik moved to Indy’s jaw then lower, teeth and tongue working against sensitive skin. Each point of contact sent heat pooling in Indy’s stomach, his dick straining against his jeans. When Malik sucked hard at the junction of shoulder and throat, Indy’s hips jerked forward involuntarily.
“Someone’s going to see that mark,” Indy managed, though his hands were already working at Malik’s belt buckle.
“Good.” The word rumbled against Indy’s skin, possessive and satisfied.
Malik’s hands found the hem of Indy’s shirt, pulling it up and off in one motion. The cooler air hit bare skin, immediately replaced by the heat of Malik’s palms sliding up his ribs. Thumbs brushed across his nipples, and Indy bit his lip to keep from making noise.
“Let me hear you,” Malik said, pinching one nipple between thumb and finger.
The sound that escaped Indy’s mouth was embarrassing, high-pitched and needy. His hands fumbled with Malik’s zipper, managing to get it down before Malik was spinning him around, pressing him forward over the desk. Papers scattered. A pen rolled off the edge and hit the floor.
Indy’s palms flattened against the wood surface, his breathing already ragged. Behind him, he heard Malik’s belt sliding free, the soft sound of fabric. Then hands were at his waistband, efficient and sure, working his jeans and underwear down to mid-thigh.
Cool air hit exposed skin. Indy pressed his forehead to the desk, arousal and vulnerability warring in his gut. The position left him completely exposed, bent over his own desk in his own shop, ass in the air while Malik stood behind him fully clothed except for what mattered.
A drawer opened. The familiar snap of a cap—lube he’d stashed there weeks ago, optimistic and slightly mortified at himself for it. Now gratitude replaced embarrassment as slick fingers traced down, finding him and pressing.
The first finger slid in easily, his body opening for Malik like it remembered, like it had been waiting. Indy pushed back against the intrusion, wanting more immediately. A second finger joined the first, stretching and working him open with practiced skill.
“Malik,” Indy breathed, his dick leaking against the desk edge. “Come on, I need—”
A third finger, crooking just right, and Indy’s words dissolved into a moan. His thighs trembled, muscles tight from the position and the pleasure coursing through him. Each press against his prostate sent sparks up his back, his cock throbbing untouched.
The fingers withdrew. Indy heard more lube being squeezed out then felt the blunt pressure of Malik’s cock pressing against him. The stretch as Malik pushed in was perfect, that edge between too much and exactly right. Indy’s mouth fell open, silent for a moment before a low groan escaped.
