“Yeah, well, we both know how it ends,” Cash said. He quirked the corner of his mouth up. “I win. So I figured we could skip it. Unless you’drather…?”
“No,” Arkady said. Another tug put Cash between Arkady’s lean, leather-clad thighs, and Cash’s stomach tightened eagerly. “You’re the guest. It’s only polite to make sure you get what you want.”
Cash leaned down and ghosted a kiss over Arkady’s mouth, the sticky apricot-and-smoke sweetness of his breath a temptation to linger. The hooks of the deal shifted in Cash’s gut. The tug of it pulled at his balls and thickened his cock.
“So I’m calling the shots?” he said. “The big, bad Abascal has to do what I say?”
The chance that—this time—he was going to push it too far caught in Cash’s throat like gravel. It also prickled the nape of his neck and dried his mouth with anticipation. It was, for him, kind of a win-win situation.
Arkady narrowed his eyes, a bright rim of gold around his pupils, but he didn’t disagree. That made Cash cocky. He licked his lips and tried to decide what to do next. The possibilities were overwhelming.
“I could fuck you,” he voiced the thought aloud.
Once he’d said it, the idea had its appeal. The thought of Arkady sprawled out under him, all that muscle and monster tight around his cock, made his breath catch in his throat. It wouldn’t be the first time, but… not that often. Rank had its privileges, and monsters did care about rank.
Arkady leaned back, arms braced against the mattress, and smirked.
“You could try,” he said neutrally.
His chest was still sticky with brandy, and a trail ran down his chest and splattered droplets over the tight leather that covered his crotch. The thick outline of his cock was visible against the scraped-thin fabric, and the shadows of something scaled and sickly gold moved under his skin. The smell on the air was still smoke and honey, but the hint of meat was under it. It was smashed hives and pillaged farms, the smoky taste of the tongue that had spat a curse at an Abascal. It was a predator’s stink, like the lion house at the zoo.
Cash couldn’t move. He’d always thought that one day he’d get used to how beautiful Arkady was when his monster showed itself, but he never had. It used to annoy him. He was pretty, but no one had ever lost the ability to speak while looking at him. Now he just enjoyed the cold frisson of lust and terror that curdled his guts and made his skin itch with the need to be touched.
It had been a long time since he’d been this aware that the man in his bed could hurt him. He’d missed the thrill of that.
Cash crawled onto the bed, straddled Arkady’s hips, and dug his knees into the mattress on either side. Hunger had sunk down into his bones, sharp and hot in his marrow.
“YousaidI could do what I want,” he pointed out, mouth against Arkady’s sharp jawline. “So….”
He pushed Arkady down on the bed… or tried to. The mattress shifted under them, but Arkady didn’t move.
“So,” Arkady said, the edges of his voice roughened from brandy and his mood. “You misheard me.”
He rolled them both over and pinned Cash down to the mattress, both of his hands held above his head. Cash cursed him and squirmed in a halfhearted attempt to get away, but not too hard. Arkady’s knee nudged between Cash’s thighs and his cock pressed against his stomach. He dipped his head to chew wet, bruised kisses along the unmarked side of Cash’s throat from his collarbone to his jaw.
“I did?” Cash asked, his voice tight as sharp teeth worried his skin and a tongue soothed the sting.
There were probably a lot of really smart, unpleasant things he could say, and he’d regret the missed opportunity later. He could feel the hard, hot pressure of Arkady’s cock against his thigh andtastehim on the back of his throat. It wasn’t like he was going to think about anything else.
“I said you shouldgetwhat you want,” Arkady said. “Notdowhat you want.”
“DowhoI want,” Cash said—apparently he could muster some smartass. “And what, you know better than me what I want?”
Arkady smiled against Cash’s throat. “It’s my art.”
Despite the dry sherbet fizz under his skin, Cash had to laugh as his favorite excuse for bad behavior was volleyed back to him. It was as true—and as not-true—of Arkady as it was of Cash. He didn’t pick people’s mental pockets the way Cash did, but if someone let him in, if they took his deal, he could strip-mine their soul.
“That’s cheating,” Cash said.
Arkady’s fingers tightened around Cash’s wrists, and then he let go as he pushed himself up onto his knees. The deal Cash had swallowed the other day pulsed in his chest as Arkady tugged on it. Then it faded down to the back of Cash’s mind.
“I don’t need to,” Arkady said. “Not with you. I can map what makes you whimper on your body with someone else’s hands.”
Cash propped himself up on one elbow and raked his hair back from his face. The back of his neck was sweaty and sensitive to the touch, and an itch of pleasure skittered down his spine as he imagined Arkady’s fingers there instead. Tomorrow he could remember everything he had to be sensible about—his human life, his kid, his… his pride.
His brain stuttered over that. He could feel his monster’s amusement as it licked his denial. He’d worry about that tomorrow too.
“Prove it,” he said with a smirk.
