He pulled Cash’s hand away from his cock, and the orgasm wriggled free and slipped away. Cash spat a “Fuck” out, finally enough air in his throat to make it a word.
“It’s notallabout you,” he spat irritably as he tried to pull his wrist free. “You know that, right?”
“I’ve heard it said,” Arkady teased him. His voice was rough and ragged, breathless. “I haven’t seen any evidence to support it.”
He hooked his arm around Cash’s stomach and took him with him as he sat back onto his knees. His cock slid deeper into Cash’s ass, spread him painfully, ecstatically wide as his weight settled into Arkady’s lap.
“Son of a bitch,” he gasped as the muscles in his thighs and stomach jerked under the skin in reaction.
He leaned back against Arkady’s chest for support, sweat slippery and cold between their bodies.
“Yes,” Arkady agreed. He rocked his hips, and Cash sucked in a ragged breath at the jolt of pleasure that stuttered through him. “I am. So?”
Cash braced his hands on Arkady’s thighs, muscles clenched in tight bands under his fingers, and pushed himself up. His tightened around Arkady’s cock as it slid out, a dull hollow in his stomach, and it was Arkady’s turn to groan.
“Doesn’t mean you need to act like one,” Cash muttered.
It made Arkady laugh, but the sound choked off as Cash pushed back down onto his cock. Arkady’s mouth moved silently against the back of Cash’s neck with each slow, deep thrust, his cock buried to the hilt each time. Cash expected hands on his hips to set the pace, but—for once—he got to ride Arkady’s cock without interference.
Who said people didn’t change?
Arkady reached over Cash’s hip and grabbed his cock. He smeared lube over the shaft, cold against hot flesh. Long practice guided his strokes as he jerked Cash off just alittlefaster than Cash fucked him.
It felt like a race… one that Cash was going to lose.
He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on anything but the cock that filled his ass and the scrape of slippery, callused fingers over his own cock. It was impossible. Maybe he could have done it at twenty. He hadn’t always come off worse in these competitions then, but he’d beentwentyand having a lot more sex regularly.
Arkady squeezed his balls—fucktoo hard—and the sticky knot of pleasure in his balls cracked open. Cash’s head dropped back against Arkady’s shoulder as he came, a whiskey hit that washed through him. It was all smooth notes with a rough bite in the backwash.
“I don’t have to do anything,” Arkady said. He wiped come off Cash’s cock and lifted his hand. Out of the corner of his eye, Cash saw him lick his fingers clean. “I choose to do it.”
He tumbled them back onto the bed again, tangled in sweaty sheets as he finished the race last—and won—with rough, impatient strokes that shoved Cash down into the sheets. His come spilled hot and sticky into Cash’s ass, and he sprawled out limp on top of him.
From somewhere in the hotel, the dinner bell rang. Even fucked out and boneless, the sound made Cash twitch. Arkady’s growl was an inhuman flutter of sound as he pinned Cash down with a leg slung over his hip.
“You keep tellingmeyou don’t work for me anymore,” Arkady said. “So why still dance to my mother’s drum?”
Cash shoved an elbow into his ribs. “I don’t,” he said. Arkady grumbled disbelief into his neck, and Cash was annoyed enough to put enough effort into his next shove that he could wriggle free. He sat up, naked and sticky and bruised, and pulled his tangled hair back from his face.
“Since when?” he asked. “I’ve been the thorn in her side since she took me on.”
Arkady stretched on his stomach and dragged one of the pillows down to rest his head. “You mouth off,” he said, his voice oddly cold and precise. “You stayjuston the right edge of defiance, but have you everactuallyput my mother out? Have you ever cost heranything?”
The answer to the question prickled on Cash’s tongue. He had. He’d cost all the Abascals something they would have held very dear. So Arkady could kiss his ass. The problem was that if he told Arkady that, then it wouldn’t be a secret. It was a lot safer when it was a secret.
“I cost her you,” he said instead, as the monster snatched his tongue. “For a while.”
Cash winced as that picked an old scab. His worse half didn’t care if it hurt him, someone else, or both. He did appreciate being able to blame it for stuff like this. Cash left Arkady to the sting of that as he scooted toward the edge of the bed, but Arkady caught his elbow and dragged him back over to his side.
“What?” Cash asked warily. He could still see Arkady’s monster, fat on whatever part of this satisfied him and too restless to sink down to his bones. It was always a good idea to be wary around an Abascal monster. Even if it liked you.Especiallyif it liked you.
Arkady rolled onto his side. He ran his hand up Cash’s arm, over the fine bones of his chest, and down to his nipple. It was still tender, and Cash flinched as Arkady scratched a sharp nail around it.
“You said the nipple ring was mine. Just for me?” Arkady said.
Sharp.Cash glanced down briefly at the thin black claws that tipped Arkady’s fingers. They looked like sharpened smoke and had points like needles.
The monster said. Cash licked his lips. They tasted like salt and sex. The question hung between them. He could back down, admit himself the liar they both knew he was. It would get him out of whatever this was about to become.
