Page 31 of Rough Exile


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I nodded, biting my cheek so I didn’t laugh. “But if you don’t like it, why do you get hard? Why do you come?”

He shrugged irritably. At least he wasn’t seriously pissed off. If he hadn’t been drinking, it might have been a different story.

“It’s like using my hand. It feels good, but it means nothing.” He gestured dismissively. “I’m not hiding tender feelings for the boy, if that’s what you’re hoping to hear.”

Ilya ducked his head, but the tips of his ears were red. I really shouldn’t be stirring up trouble between them, but I was curious to see if his denial was as true as he seemed to think it was.

“So, what’s the big deal about kissing him, then?” I prodded. “It’s a dare. It doesn’t mean anything. A man with two ex-wives shouldn’t be threatened by the idea of kissing another man as part of a game.”

Bron glared at me but gave a careless shrug.

“Fine. Ilya, come here.”

“No,” he replied sullenly, meeting Bron’s gaze. “It’s not my dare.”

Bron got up so fast his chair tipped over and hit the floor with a loud bang that made me and Ilya jump. He stalked to Ilya, who leaned back in his chair to get farther away from him.

“Do you get to refuse me anything, suka?” He grabbed Ilya by the front of the shirt and hauled him to his feet.

“I don’t want you to kiss me,” Ilya begged, his eyes wide.

“I don’t want to kiss you either, but I won’t lose the woman’s stupid game.” He brought his mouth down hard on Ilya’s.

I was expecting a grudging peck on the lips.

Apparently, Bron was serious about not wanting to lose.

The kiss was violent, deep. Bron’s grip on Ilya’s hair wouldn’t allow him to get away, and he forced him to submit, to open his mouth, to accept Bron’s invading tongue. Slowly, Bron walked him backward, not stopping until Ilya’s back was against the wall. Bron pressed his body against Ilya’s, angling his head for better access to his mouth. Between one heaving breath and the next, the kiss went from violent to passionate. Ilya’s whimpered, submitting, and the quiet sound of their tongues sliding together made me squirm.

Fuck, watching them together was…

My alcohol haze lifted slightly. Shit. What if this fucked up things between them? They’d been living in a careful balance for years, and I’d just tipped them into what? Admitting their feelings for each other? Unlikely. But this was…something.

Hot. It was fucking hot.

One of Bron’s legs pressed between Ilya’s, and he grabbed his crotch through his jeans, making him gasp into Bron’s mouth.

Ilya’s hand crept to the bottom of Bron’s shirt and slowly made its way under the thin layer to explore the skin under the fabric’s edge, as though it were forbidden fruit.

What was it like to get fucked by the same man for years and never be shown any affection? To never touch him or be touched in any way that wasn’t violent?

Ilya’s eyes were shining, wet.

Oh fuck. What had I done?

Bron eased back, and his kisses became softer, yearning.

Was he in love with Ilya, too?

No. It had to be the cognac, right?

When Bron broke the kiss, his gaze slid over Ilya’s face, then went stiff and stoic.

“There,” he said, his voice as steady as if he’d completed some meaningless chore. “My turn.”

He righted his fallen chair and sat down, then took a sip of his drink. His hand shook, but it steadied when he saw me looking.

Ilya came back to sit with us, moving like a vigilant hare who could already see the coyote headed his way.

“Truth or dare, suka.”

Ilya glared at him. “Dare.”

Bron’s brows rose, as though he’d expected Ilya to choose truth. It took him a moment before he came up with something.

“I dare you to strip the woman naked and pleasure her with your mouth.”

“But I don’t know how!”

“You didn’t know how to suck a dick when I came here, either. You can learn.”

I could almost see all the words Ilya wanted to say but was holding back. Doubtlessly, Bron could, too.

Why did he have to be such an ass? If he wasn’t into Ilya, I’d eat my cognac glass, but he was either refusing to let it show, or was shoving it down so hard he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

Ilya got up again, and Bron’s dare registered.

He wanted to teach Ilya to go down on me? Yeah, this didn’t bode well.

Taking my hand, Ilya drew me up. He turned me, and I could almost feel the concentration as he studied my bra clasp. I probably should have bailed him out and taken it off myself, but it could be a valuable skill to have.

He fumbled with it, but figured it out, then drew the straps down my arms and watched over my shoulder as he revealed my breasts, as though the sight of naked tits still amazed him. His breath was warm on my neck, and I instinctually tipped my head. He nuzzled my neck and kissed right behind my ear, making me shiver with the delicious sensation. For a guy who hadn’t had a lot of reciprocal sex, he was pretty intuitive.

He hooked his fingers into the band of my panties and drew them down my legs, helping me step out of them, my hand resting on his shoulder for balance.

When I was completely naked, he turned me toward him and stepped back, his appreciative gaze sliding over me.

“A woman as beautiful as you would never look to a man like me without money as an incentive.” He chuckled, and traced his fingers down my bare skin, stroking lightly, making me feel all gooey and warm. “I’m lucky to have something you want.”

The man seriously didn’t know how gorgeous he was. It was nice to be with someone who didn’t think he was doing me a favor by paying attention to me. Spending time with Bron had made him humble.

“The dare is to lick her pussy, not feed her vanity.”

“What harm is there in telling the truth? We chose her because she was the most regal, the most beautiful. Do you think she doesn’t know what she looks like?”

“You must always act like any woman is lucky to have you. Telling them how beautiful they are only makes them demanding and full of conceit.”

“When has Delilah ever been demanding or conceited? She wears my sister’s old clothes and puts up with our groping without complaint. The food here isn’t elegant. There are no parties or entertainments the way there are on the mainland, only drinking with two shabby men who spend too much time alone together in the woods.”

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