That gets a slight reaction out of him, not much, just a visible breath before he reins himself in again. “Is this about Mason?” he asks.
His name hits me like a shove to the chest that I’m not braced for, and just like that, I’m furious all over again. “Don’t bring him into this.”
“Why?” Ari presses, calm and relentless. “This isn’t just about Niko.”
“Stop,” I snap. “Just fucking—” I cut myself off hard. My fists are clenched at my sides, and the room feels smaller by the second.
Ari steps closer. “You’re furious. I get that,” he says. “But you’re taking it out on everyone and people are going to question why.”
“Maybe I don’t care.” My breathing is already uneven by the time the words fly out. I take a deep breath. “I’mangry because Mason didn’t get help. I tried to stop it, and it didn’t matter. He’s still gone fuck knows where. Every time I think I’m doing the right thing, someone decides it’s suspicious, and I’m still standing there with my mouth shut pretending everything isn’t fucked.” Ari says nothing. He lets me keep going. “And I’m angry because I’m scared for you,” I tell him, “That I’ll get seen, get sloppy, and you’ll be the one who pays for it.”
Ari breathes out slowly, and something in the set of his face changes. “Is that what this is?” he asks. “Fear.”
I scoff. “Don’t psychoanalyse me, Ari. I’m really not in the mood for it.”
He steps closer again, and his mouth curves, faintly amused. “You look like you want to hit something,” he says. “Or someone.”
“Don’t,” I warn.
He switches languages like he’s flicking a knife open. “Khochesh podrat’sya?”Do you want to fight?His voice drops lower into that filthy tone he uses to melt my brain. “Ili khochesh, chtoby ya prizhal tebya k stene—”Or do you want me to pin you to the wall—
My jaw clenches so hard it aches. “English, for fuck’s sake, Ari.”
He doesn’t even blink. “Khochesh’, ya vytrakhu iz tebya vsyu etu zlost’?”Do you want me to fuck all that angerout of you?
My hand slams into the wall beside his head before I can stop myself. “That’s not fair,” I snap. “You know exactly what that does to me.”
“Da,” he says calmly. “Imenno poetomu ya eto govoryu.”That’s exactly why I’m saying it,he says, softer, filthier.
I grab his jacket and drag him in close. “Do you think this is funny?”
“No,” he says, his breath warm against my mouth. “I think you’re wound so tight you’re going to tear yourself apart unless someone gives you another option.”
“And this is your solution,” I growl. “Poke me until I lose control?”
A slow, smug, filthy smile spreads across his face. “Mm,” he murmurs. “Not to lose control... redirect.”
His mouth brushes my ear. “Tak,” he whispers. “Ty budesh drat’sya so mnoy...”So, are you going to fight me...“Ili pozvolish mne sdelat tebe priyatno?”Or let me make you feel good?
I don’t catch every word, but I catch enough. He leans in, running his tongue over my lower lip, humming against it, causing the blood to rush to my dick. I kiss him hard, like I’m trying to shut him up permanently, and the anger snaps the last bit of restraint clean in half. He kisses me back, teeth catching my lower lip sharply enough to hurt and make a needy whimper tear out of me before I can stop it.
Ari smiles against my mouth, then bites my lip again, slower this time, meaner, like he’s checking how far he can push before I come undone. “There’s my detka,” he murmurs.
I make a noise that’s half groan, half growl, as my fingers dig into his back. I need something solid to hold to keep me from falling apart. Ari lets me, more than that, he encourages it, stepping in closer, pressing into me until there is nowhere left to put all that anger except into touching him.
“You’re a fucking prick,” I mutter, my breathing wrecked, my forehead brushing his.
Ari hums, smug as sin. “I know.” His hand slides under my shirt, another fists in my hair, and he drags me back into another mind-melting kiss. The kiss turns messier after that; it’s all teeth, anger, and frustration.
I exhale sharply through my nose when his hands yank my T-shirt off me with one brutal movement, and my body reacts, my cock twitching hard in my trousers at the roughness of it.
Before my brain can catch up in any useful way, his hands are all over me. Rough — over my stomach, my ribs, my sides. His fingers bite into my hips so hard that I know I’ll feel it tomorrow, and the thought only makes me harder. “You want to act like a brat?” Ari growls, teeth grazing the skin below my ear. “Fine. But we finish this my way.”
My breath catches when he turns me and shoves me face down over the desk, my palms and chest hitting the wood. My trousers and boxers are dragged down hard. The cold of the room hits my arse, and my skin goes tight all over.
He kicks my feet wider with his boot, and I go without a fight because it’s been weeks since the last time, and I've been dying for this. Behind me, I hear his belt, then his zip, then I feel something cold drip in between my cheeks.
That nearly finishes me before he’s even touched me properly.
