AllFreeNovel
Share Us
In the back of his SUV on the way to the house, he rubbed his chest, mouth tightening when the tremors in his hand registered. He hadn’t properly mourned his father. He’d been killed and Mathieu had to step up, and he’d chosen to avoid his grief by hurting Win and destroying what they had.
He doubled over, the pressure in his chest too intense, too sharp.
“Sir,” the driver spoke, shattering the silence. “You need anything?”
“I’m good.” But he didn’t feel good. He wanted to get out of his bloodied clothes and wash Cesar’s blood off his hands. He couldn’t go to Win like that.
When they arrived at the house, he made his way to one of the guest bathrooms. Win would be in his bedroom and he didn’t—
“Mathieu.”
God-fucking-damnit.“Not now, Win.” He kept his back to the other man as he entered the guest bedroom.
“Yes now. Stop ignoring me!” Win grabbed his arm from behind and jerked him around. His eyes went wide and his mouth gaped as he took in Mathieu’s bloodied appearance. “Mathieu. Fuck!” He took Mathieu’s face in both hands. “Are you hurt?”
His concern had Mathieu swallowing thickly. “Cesar and his people.”
Win didn’t look away. “They’re dead?”
Mathieu gave him a short nod, trying to find words to express the thing inside him that kept building. “But I can’t—my father…” His eyes burned, body shaking. “He’s gone.”
“He is. I’m so sorry for that.” Win brushed a kiss to his lips. “But you’re here.” He pulled away, taking Mathieu’s hand and leading him into the bathroom. Stripping him while Mathieu just stood there.
Useless.
“You’re here, Mathieu,” Win murmured, looking up at Mathieu as he bent, pulling Mathieu’s underwear down and off. Win straightened to his full height. “You’ll do what needs to be done. And I’ll be here with you. For you.”
Why had Mathieu thought to hide from Win? The other man hadn’t even flinched away from the gruesome sight of the blood that had drenched Mathieu’s clothes and was stuck under his fingernails. Win turned away from him just long enough to turn on the shower, then he undressed himself and held out a hand to Mathieu.
“Come.”
Mathieu went. Wasn’t even a question.
In the shower, he allowed the other man to wash his body from head to toe, scrubbing him clean. Mathieu tipped his head back under the water, allowing the tears to fall. Tears he’d held back for so long. Before, there’d been no time to grieve the father he’d lost. No time to feel this thing, and now it was so big, he feared it would consume him.
Win wrapped his arms around him from behind, mouth on his nape. “Mathieu.”
Mathieu turned in his arms, their wet bodies slipping, sliding. Win’s touch was the only thing that seemed to make it better, so Mathieu kissed him. Softly at first, begging silently. Win understood what he wanted though, because he clasped Mathieu by the throat, squeezing, deepening the kiss and taking control.
Mathieu groaned into his mouth, pressing closer, blatantly begging.
Win broke the kiss and pushed Mathieu face-first into the wall, away from the spray of water.
Mouth on his nape, teeth in his skin, rough hands skimming down his back.
Mathieu undulated, hands flat on the wall to keep his balance, groaning with his head thrown back. Win gripped him behind his neck with one hand while the other trailed between Mathieu’s ass cheeks and fingers pressed to his hole.
Yes. He widened his stance, tipping his ass up, issuing the invitation.
A finger dipped just inside him. Stinging. He dug his teeth into his bottom lip, needing more. Win delivered it. Two fingers breached him, burning, heating him up, then disappearing. He shuddered, making a sound of protest. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched as Win grabbed the water-based lube Mathieu kept on hand in all the bathrooms, then Win was back, slick fingers tunneling deep into Mathieu.
Lifting him on his toes.
A groan rumbled in his chest. Win’s pants thundered in his ear. Then the fingers were gone and Win was at his entrance, cock hot, hard, and smooth, pushing into him.
Mathieu’s knees buckled, his hands scrabbling for purchase on the wet wall. Pleasure and pain reverberated up and down his spine and he closed his eyes, cock hard and leaking. Sliding a hand down his chest, he fisted himself, stroking in tandem with Win’s hard thrusts.
No soft and gentle shit. Win knew what he needed. Knew that Mathieu didn’t need too much prep or any of that. He wanted to be fucked and Win did that, slamming into him, grinding against his ass, cock hitting his spot dead on.
