AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I make my rounds, being polite and socializing for as long as I need to before making my way to the lobby. I head to the elevator and up to a suite in the fancy hotel. The suite I made sure to book under a false name and left an extra key at the front desk for.
I strip out of my tuxedo jacket and walk over to the bar, grabbing an expensive bottle of whiskey and pouring it into a glass. I take a long, slow pull, just as I hear the lock click and the door open, then close.
Axel doesn’t say anything as he makes his way across the room. He doesn’t have to. We’ve done this dance so many times before.
I pour him a whiskey and hold out the glass, which he takes, tossing it back instantly. My eyes follow the motion of his throat, swallowing down the liquid with a sexy-as-fuck motion that sets my soul on fire.
Why? Why does it have to be him?
He’s cocky, annoying, and careless—all the things I’ve always said—and yet, he’s the one who makes my dick harder than anyone else. He’s the one I can’t stop thinking about during a dry spell when I’m alone on the road. When I finally seek relief in the shower or in my lonely hotel room, it’s his face I see when I cry out with my release.
He shrugs out of his tuxedo jacket and hangs it on the back of a chair, silently assessing me with his eyes, dragging them slowly over my body that betrays me with a tremble.
Why him?
He places the glass on the bar, and without any word at all, his hand cups the back of my neck and pulls me in for a searing kiss, one I fight but don’t pull away from. My mouth attacks his, our battle for dominance always present.
His body presses against mine, one hand on the back of my neck and the other on my hip, pulling me into him as I go for the buttons on his shirt, prying them apart carefully so they don’t rip.
We both have a social commitment to attend when this is done, and I keep that in the back of my mind. He bites on my bottom lip, and I bite him back as I remove the shirt from his toned shoulders before it falls to the ground.
He grunts and then removes my shirt, being more reckless as usual and popping a button when he does, but not caring and certainly not apologizing. His mouth trails down my neck to my collar bone, hoovering the skin and making me hiss.
He moves back to my neck, nipping and biting. The fucker really doesn’t care if he leaves a mark, and I hate that I tilt my head to the side to allow him better access.
I moan when he sucks a deep bruise into the skin of my neck as his hands work my pants open, pushing them and my briefs down my ass to the floor. I can’t let him be completely in control though. I grab a condom and a packet of lube from my jacket before I grab both his shoulders, moving him back until he hits the wall.
He grunts and then steals my mouth with his own for another punishing kiss.
I try my best not to muss his hair, but his fingers rake through mine. “Careful,” I remind him, but he only smiles wickedly against my lips.
I roll my eyes but then pull back, tearing the condom open with my teeth and stroking the length of my cock with my hand slowly, looking into those dark eyes of his. I roll the condom on, still staring at him, neither of us talking.
He steals the lube from me and pushes his pants down. After coating my sheathed cock with the liquid, he moves to quickly prep himself. It’s a dance we’ve done so many times, and there’s a part of me—one I try to ignore—that wishes it were my fingers inside him. That I was the one stretching him and teasing him. But we don’t have a lot of time, and we both know it.
He must not be in the mood for a lot of prep because he tosses the packet and then pulls me in for another kiss that’s more biting and feasting than anything else. It makes my cock jerk in anticipation before I spin him around, and his hands meet the wall.
My dick slides into him effortlessly, finding its home and bottoming out while I nip at the back of his shoulder, letting my teeth sink into his skin. We remain unmoving while we both adjust, breathing harshly. He surrounds me with his heat and squeezes around my cock when he grows impatient, then he pushes back against me.
I’m met with his gravelly plea that he tries to phrase as a command, “Move, Sebastian. Fucking move.”
I grin because I hear his desperation. He doesn’t beg. He doesn’t ask for anything. Ever.
Except when he’s with me.
I pull my hips back until I’m almost completely out of him and then thrust forward, nailing his prostate and reveling in the hoarse cry that leaves his throat. I watch his hands pushing against the wall, balled in fists, as he thrusts back.
We move like that, grunting and fucking like animals until he’s crying out with his release, and my cock jerks inside him, cum filling the condom.
After a few breaths, I pull out and get rid of the condom, and he cleans up quickly before getting dressed.
I do the same.
But when he’s in the bathroom, staring in the mirror at his own reflection, I see that look in his eyes.
The look that tells me he’s not nearly as bulletproof as the media makes him out to be. The look that says he hates hiding part of himself as much as I do. But it only infuriates me as our eyes lock in the mirror’s reflection when I stand behind him.
“You could have it all, you know?”
