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“You’ve never mentioned this before. Do you know how much easier it would be to do this outside of this fucking place? C’mon, we need to finish upstairs and then we can leave. Before you even open up that pouty mouth, let me cut you off. Without the bodies,” I tell him firmly because if I give him an inch, he will take a mile. He thinks he can bat those long lashes and quirk his mouth at me, and I’ll give in to his every whim.
“But Dommmmm? I promise, just this once. And then I won’t ask for anything else, and I’ll even behave… well, at least for the next three jobs on the schedule,” he pleads, but the smirk on his face is anything but angelic.
“I said no. Stop acting like a child. You need to grow up. Leave the dead boys alone and get back to work.”
“And if I don’t?” he asks.
“You have no choice. Get your ass up and finish up. I want to get this job done and get paid.”
“Money. Money. Money. If you don’t help me with what I want right now Dom, then I’ll just have to find someone who will.” He pulls his cell back out of his pocket, and I watch as he unlocks it.
He starts to type and without a single thought, my arm lifts and sails through the air until the backside of my hand connects with the harsh cut of his jaw and the soft flesh of his cheek.
His head whips to the left, and he’s knocked onto his ass from the force of it.
I bring the limb back down to rest against my side.
I don’t apologize because I’m not fucking sorry.
He grunts low before turning his head, locking his bright eyes nearly identical to my own on me and grits his teeth in a maniacal grin. Each white space is outlined in red as blood slowly ebbs out of the corner of his mouth.
His eyes look wild and manic, and I feel myself harden beneath my black Dickie pants as he runs his tongue along his teeth. His movements are slow and exaggerated, and I know he’s doing it on purpose. Enticing me. Trying to pull me under his spell.
He’ll win on that front… at least.
“Well, that wasn’t nice, Brother. I’ll make you pay for that.” The grin never leaves his face.
“You can try, but we both know that I always come out on top. Now get the fuck up and finish up. Leave the corpses.” I turn away from him, adjusting my dick as it throbs behind the seams. Blood always does that to me. Violence as well. But if I’m being honest, it’s Khi.
There are no boundaries between us.
There is nothing that holds us back in life.
There is him, and there is me.
There is us.
I move to head back to the stairs, only a few feet away, when a weight is slammed against my back, and I go down to the ground, barely avoiding hitting my head.
A heavy weight is on my back, pressing me down, and I feel elbows digging in between my shoulder blades, making it hard to breathe. Each inhale is met with the resistance of a two-hundred-pound man.
“I’m not letting you up, Dominic, not until you give me what I want. Please. See? I even said it nicely. Don’t be such a limpdick Larry. I want my toys.”
I go limp, letting my body relax, and wait for Khi to follow my lead. He can’t help it, and his body will subconsciously always follow my cues.
Moments later, I feel it happen, and that’s when I strike. Using every ounce of strength in my body, I buck up hard, throwing him off balance. I waste no time straddling him and pin him down, pressing hard against his throat, feeling his larynx start to give. He’s gasping for air and clawing at me, trying to find purchase. The immediate loss of oxygen has him scrambling, and his brain synapses are confused.
I grow impossibly hard, and I feel Khi’s own erection, thick and hard, pressing up right against my ass from my position.
His mouth gapes open and closed, reminiscent of a fish out of water, and it amuses me. I force two fingers of my left hand into his mouth and hook them against the inside of his cheek.
“Look at you, my pretty little fishy. I’m sorry, did you want something? It sounded like you thought you ran the show. Let me remind you who you are and who you belong to,” I say as I shift my hips, rocking backward until our cocks are straining against each other through our pants. I lean over him, staring directly into his eyes. I open my mouth and let the spit I’ve gathered in the back of my throat push forward until gravity pulls it down landing directly on his tongue.
“Swallow me, little jester.” I ease my forearm off his throat, and he does as I say while I feel his hips lifting up, trying to hump both the air and me.
Drool rolls out of the corner of his mouth as he tries to talk with my fingers still hooked in him. “Pl—-ughhhhh.”
I love watching him struggle for me. Everything between us is always a push and pull. Magnetic. Our minds, our bodies, our lives are controlled by us, individually and together. There is no Dominic LaRue without Malakhi LaRue. My very flesh and blood, a carbon copy of myself if I ever saw one. You’d think we were twins.
