Page 220 of Alessio

“Yeah, I want that,” Alessio murmured. “You.”

“I need—”

Alessio tipped his head to the side. “Nightstand.”

He didn’t even have to get the words out entirely, Alessio just knew, and for some reason … the fact that the man wanted it that bad, that he wanted to be the one fucked, made the anticipation thrum deeper inside of Corrado. Until all he could feel was the bass of his heart thrumming right along with it.

Fuck.

Yet, Alessio didn’t move as Corrado crossed the space to open the small drawer attached to the nightstand. He stayed standing even as Corrado pulled the items—condom, lube—out before dropping them to the sheets.

He met Alessio’s stare as he stood straight again, inching in closer until their chests touched. It was in his eyes that he found the truth reflecting back to him—the truth that yes, what he wanted was to be the one beneath the other, he still had fight there. A battle that said he wanted to win, to control, to fuck. That same war Corrado found in their kiss, and their touches.

The roughness that spoke of a man, and who liked that, too.

Because that was the difference between men and women. In sex, women could be rough, and they could make it hurt, but those were far and few between. Sex, with women, he always found was soft, no matter how rough. Something that fulfilled an entirely different need for sex with him.

Men were not the same—that attraction, for Corrado, were two entirely different things. He wouldn’t be so arrogant to say every bi or gay man felt that way, or perceived it the same as he did, but that’s how he always found it to be. And right then, he was seeing the same thing in Alessio.

That fight.

This time, he’d give it.

Give in.

Next time was a whole other story, though.

So, Corrado gave him what he wanted. If he wanted roughness like he wanted the fight, then he could have that. He slammed a bruising kiss to Alessio’s mouth as his hand wrapped around the front of his throat. Lips dragged over his savagely, determined to take the very breath out of him as he took Alessio down to the bed.

Hard bodies met, grinding as the two pulled harshly at what little clothes remained between them. Corrado didn’t remember when that last piece of clothing hit the floor—when it was just warm skin and muscle meeting his, but there it was.

He felt Alessio’s cock, already hard, slide against his own. Their hips moving in rhythm together to get that sensation, fast and desperate, he thought. That’s what was thrumming through his bloodstream with his heart now.

Desperation.

“Fuck, yeah,” Alessio groaned, mouth falling away from his.

Corrado’s hand shoved between their bodies to get his hand where he needed it the most. He only leaned up just long enough to grab that bottle of lube before he popped the top open, and got the cool gel piled on his fingertips. He didn’t keep the bottle, tossing it aside so he could get his hand back on Alessio’s throat while his other started to work.

His fingertips pressed against the tight ring of Alessio’s ass. Just two, at first, working in with slow, twisting strokes. His fingers curved tighter around Alessio’s throat as the man let out another one of those sounds.

Those groans.

And fuck, his moans.

His moans.

He was so fucking glad he wasn’t new to this—himself, and Alessio. Learning sex was fucking messy, and this wasn’t that at all. Not that he’d known that before this started, but he’d assumed. He knew he was right just by the way Alessio moved under him and asked for more. Any hesitations he had now were gone for sure.

“Christ,” Alessio hissed when Corrado had two fingers stretching the man out.

Stormy blue met raging brown when Alessio’s eyes lifted to meet his. And as much as he liked hearing those sounds, he wanted to taste them when they came out of the man. He got the heat of Alessio’s mouth against his as he worked that third finger into his ass as his palm flexed against his throat.

Alessio’s hands left the fisted sheets to grab onto Corrado’s wrists. He could feel it, the push and pull of his hold on Corrado, the way he wanted to keep him right there, but push him back, too.

That fight …

Against Corrado’s roughness.