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“I missed a spot,” Odin said. “Take care of it.”
His eyes drifted down, and it was difficult not to let his gaze linger as he passed it over Snow’s powerful form. There was a blood stain on his upper right thigh, higher than Hunter would have liked it to be. It drew too much attention to the sharp V-shaped cut of Odin’s hip and his jutting cock.
Hunter had gotten a good look at it back in the Room with a View, but he’d been ten or so feet away then, and while it’d been obvious Odin was huge, seeing it up close like this made a difference.
His cock was easily three inches or so longer than Hunter’s, and wide enough that he could probably only just wrap his fingers around it. His balls hung heavy, shaft drawn up between them as if aiming for Hunter. It curved slightly, ending on a flushed crown that leaked a single pearly drop under Hunter’s scrutiny.
Which is when he realized he’d failed at the whole not staring thing and had been inspecting Odin’s dick the same way one would take in a painting at a museum.
Odin didn’t give him time to be embarrassed, however, taking Hunter’s hand and slapping it against his thigh, right over the blood smear. “It isn’t going to clean itself.”
When Hunter tried to pull his hand away, Odin held firm, and he opted to just comply and get it over with.
Maybe if he focused on what the blood meant it would distract him enough to keep himself from—
“Is this turning you on, Huntsman?” Odin’s voice dropped low, like velvet, and Hunter shivered before he could help it.
“No,” he denied anyway, pursing his lips and risking a glance down between his own legs before he grimaced.
“Really?” Odin clucked his tongue. “I don’t think this got the memo.”
He was cupping Hunter’s balls a second later, moving faster than Hunter could follow.
He let out a yelp and stepped away, coming up hard against the wall, water spraying in his face, momentarily blinding him until the showerhead was readjusted above him. He blinked up at Odin, who was still gripping him and dug his nails into the flesh of the other man’s wrist. “Let go.”
“You’re sounding like a broken record.” Odin eased in closer until his body was pressed against his, skin to skin. “‘Let go’,” he made his voice sound whiney, and dramatic, “‘Get off’. Well, which one is it, Huntsman?”
Hunter frowned.
“Do you want me to let go,” Odin asked softly, suggestively, “or do you want me to get off?”
“I’m not sleeping with you,” Hunter blurted.
Odin didn’t like that response. “You’ll do whatever I want you to do.”
Without giving him a chance to continue the argument, he flipped Hunter around so that he was facing the wall.
His palms went up to brace himself against the tile, but even when he pushed back with all his strength against Odin, he couldn’t budge. His spine tingled as Odin slowly trailed his hand down it, starting between his shoulder blades and stopping at the rise of his ass. He kept his other wrapped tightly around the back of Hunter’s neck, keeping him pinned in place as he explored.
“Don’t,” Hunter snarled when those fingers dipped lower, slipping between his crack.
Odin didn’t listen, tracing a line down until he found Hunter’s tight entrance. He dropped his hold, using both hands to part Hunter’s cheeks, ignoring Hunter’s sharp intake as he exposed him further.
Hunter felt his gaze like a live thing, hot and piercing on him. He tried to look over his shoulder, but could only turn his head so much with his face still up against the wet tile.
“When was the last time you were fucked?” Odin asked crassly, and the blunt words snapped some sense into him.
Hunter pushed off the wall again, this time managing to peel himself off an inch before Odin was forcing him back with an arm against his shoulder blades and a warning growl that he felt reverberate through him down to his toes. He stilled.
“Be good and answer the question,” Odin warned.
He swallowed, but only just managed to repeat, “Don’t.”
“You’re just as hard as I am,” he stated. “You want this just as much as I do.”
“No.” His cheek stuck to the tile uncomfortably when he tried to shake his head, but he hardly noticed, still too focused on Odin’s hand, which he’d left gripping Hunter’s left ass cheek, almost to the point of pain. “No. I want you to let go.”
Odin knew what he meant but merely grunted. “Too late for that now.”
