"...you."
"What about me, Carter."
"You're—you're on your knees."
"Hm." His thumb presses into the bruise on my hipbone—the one his brother left there last night. He watches it darken under his thumb without breaking eye contact. "Tell anyone and I'll drown you."
"I wouldn't—"
"Bane gets to know."
"...okay."
"He'll be jealous. It's the entire point. Hold still."
He licks me from base to tip in one slow flat-tongued stroke.
The sound I make is not dignified. It echoes off the tile. I clap my hand over my mouth on instinct and Zero, mouth still at the head of my cock, lifts his eyes to mine and somehow communicatesthe parents are at sea, the house is empty, scream all you fucking wantwithout saying a word. I drop thehand. He nods, satisfied. Then he opens his mouth and takes me in.
Slow.
He goesslow.
I expect Zero to be a man who fucks his face onto a cock at full speed and worries about gag reflex later. He is not. He works me into his mouth in increments, careful, watching my face, letting me feel the heat and the wet and the pull of his suction one inch at a time. His tongue flat under the head. His hand wrapped around the base of me where his mouth hasn't yet reached. His eyes never leaving mine.
"Oh—oh, fuck—"
He hums around me. The vibration runs up my cock and into my belly and I have to brace both palms flat against the tile behind me to stay standing. My knees are not going to hold me. My hand drops to his hair and he makes a small approving sound and presses into my grip, telling me without words topull, baby, pull as hard as you want.
I fist my hand in his wet hair.
He hollows his cheeks. Takes me deeper.
"Zero—"
He pulls off long enough to speak. His mouth red. Spit and water on his chin. "Yeah?"
"You—you're really—you're—"
"Words, Max."
"You're better at this than I—than I—"
"Than you expected."
"Than islegal. Fuck—"
He laughs out loud. Real laugh. The kind I have heard maybe four times since I met him.
"You're mine. And I know how to please what’s mine."
He says it like a fact, between one breath and the next, like the weather outside is what it is and the water is wet andMax Carter belongs to him. Then he goes back down on me, mouth wet and warm and tight, and the words land in my chest like a punch.
Mine.
I am being claimed. One again. By Zero. In a shower. With his mouth on my cock and my hand in his hair, with no audience and no excuse for him to be saying it except that he means it.
I am going to come. I am going to come,oh god, I am going to—
