His ass pushes back against me, and I groan, my cock twitching, leaking pre-cum into my boxers. I reach down to adjust myself, the pressure almost painful. “Tell me you want it,” I demand, my voice a low growl.
“Fuck you,” he gasps, his voice rough, and his body trembling under my hands.I chuckle darkly as my fingers dig into his flesh harder. I straighten as my hands slide down to grip his cheeks, spreading him open, circling his hole with my thumb, teasing him. His hole is tight, perfect, and I can’t resist dropping down to my knees and dragging my tongue over him, tasting him. He jerks forward with a choked, almost silent cry, as his fingers dig into the desk hard.
“Ari—fuck—” he whimpers. His body trembles as I lick, suck and tongue fuck his hole until his low moans turn into more whimpers.
I stand back up, my lips brushing his ear again. “You taste so good, detka. Always so fucking good.” I reach for my waistband, unbuttoning and pulling the zip down, pushing my uniform down enough to free my cock. It springs out, hard and thick, the tip already wet. I stroke myself with my eyes lockedon his ass. “Tell me you want me to fuck you right here, in this office.”
“Please—” he begs, his ass pushing back against me again, his muscles clench, and I can’t wait anymore. I pull the Vaseline from my pocket, slicking up my cock, and then I’m pressed against him, the head of my cock nudging at his entrance. He is tight, so fucking tight. My hands grip his hips hard, and I have to grit my teeth as I push inside, inch by slow inch.
“Fuck—” Caiden gasps, his body tensing, and his fingers digging into the desk. “Jesus, fuck—”
“Shh,” I whisper, my lips brushing his ear. “Just take it. Take me.” I bottom out, my balls pressed against him, and I hold there for a second, letting him adjust, feeling my cock throbbing inside him. “So good,” I groan. “So fucking good, detka.”
I start to move, slow at first, savouring the way his body clenches around me, and the way his breath hitches with every thrust.
I lean over him, my chest pressing against his back, my lips brushing his ear. “You feel that?” I ask, still driving into him hard. “You feel how good we are together?”
He moans low, his body trembles as his muscles clench around my cock. “Yes—fuck, yes—”I snap my hips forward, driving into him harder, faster; the desk creaking under his weight; the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the small office.
His moans are muffled, swallowed, and his teeth sink into his bottom lip to keep quiet, but I can hear the hitch in his breath, the way his body trembles with each thrust.
My hand slides up his back, fingers tangling in his hair, gripping tight as I pull his head back, exposing his throat. I kiss and nibble him there, while I reach around with my other hand,wrapping it around his cock. And I squeeze and stroke him in time with my thrusts. His cock throbs in my grip. “Come for me,” I command. My voice is raw and desperate. “Let me feel it. Let me feel you squeeze me.”
His body tightens, his muscles clench around me, and then he’s coming. His release is hot and thick over my fingers; his body shudders with the force of it. I follow him over the edge, my own release tearing through me, as my cock pulses inside him while I come, filling him.
His name is a broken whisper on my lips as I collapse over him, my body pressing him into the desk, and my breathing coming in ragged gasps.
We stay like that for a long moment, our bodies slick with sweat, our hearts pounding in time with each other. And all I can think is that I don’t want to move. I don’t want to let him go.
Finally, I pull out, my cock softening, and I reach down, pulling his uniform up and covering him. He turns around, and his green eyes meet mine; his expression unreadable. I cup his face, my thumb brushes over his lip, it’s still swollen from my kisses. And I kiss him again. Slowly, deeply, making up for the weeks of kisses I should have been giving him all this time. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t pull away either. And for now, that’s enough.
Later, when Caiden has left, I sit alone in my office. I look exactly like a man who hasn’t ruined his own life. But I know better. I stare at the door long after he’s gone, aware of exactly what I’ve chosen.
I won’t survive this painlessly. I already know that. But I also know I won’t survive pretending he doesn’t matter.
When he leaves, it’s going to hurt in ways I don’t have the words for. I light a cigarette I don’t smoke and I don’t inhale from it. I just hold it between my fingers.
I’ve crossed the line.
Again.
But this time, I’m not pretending I didn’t see it coming.
Thirty-Five
Caiden
Today is the day for problems. The most annoying problem currently is that Ari and I have ruined normal touches for ourselves. Everything means something now. I’m in the gym — it always ends up being the gym. Because it’s one of the only places on base where everyone expects men to be sweating, grunting, and furious.
No one looks twice at the tension in that room. I’m wiping my hands down, trying to focus on literally anything else, when I feel him behind me. I glance up into the mirror, and there he is. Arseny Zakirov. Hair tied back and sleeves shoved up. Forearms like carved stone, with that expression he has when he’s about to be a problem. He catches my eyes in the mirror and holds them. He gives me that steady, unnerving look that makes my stomach drop and my pulse jump.
He steps close, like he’s reaching past me for the dumbbells, and his shoulder brushes mine. My body betrays me, sending a chill up my spine. He leans in, barely, so his mouth is near my ear.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he whispers, low enough that it’s just me who hears.
“Like what?” I whisper back.
“Like you are going to snap.”
