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Jason nodded.
“Everybody, out!”
They all left and Mathieu put the gun down on the table where he sat with Win next to him. His body trembled, with anger, with the adrenaline dump, with fear. He didn’t know.
“Hey.” Win got out of his chair and crouched in front of Mathieu. “I’m fine. Nothing happened.” He smoothed both hands over Mathieu’s bare thighs. “That guy could’ve hurt me but he didn’t. He just wanted information.”
Mathieu closed his eyes briefly then glared at him. “That’s not as reassuring as you think it is.”
Win pursed his lips before granting him a small smile. “I know and I’m sorry, but please, I’m fine. I didn’t feel like I was in danger. I was more surprised than anything else.”
“It shouldn’t have happened at all!” Mathieu roared, pounding the table.
“No, but it did, and I’m grateful that this is the way it turned out. He could’ve seriously hurt Shawn, but he didn’t.” Win took a breath. “He could have hurt me, but he didn’t.”
Mathieu grabbed him by the chin with trembling fingers. “Don’t say that shit. I can’t—”
“I know,” Win murmured. He caught Mathieu’s hand and pressed his cheek into his palm. “I know you’re scared for me.” He released Mathieu and got onto his knees, placing a hand on Mathieu’s naked chest. “Let me take your mind off it.” His tongue flicked out, gliding over his bottom lip.
Mathieu’s body instantly reacted at that sight, dick perking up, but he fought the arousal. “Are you trying to distract me?”
Win leaned over, pressing his face to Mathieu’s chest, warm breath tickling his skin. “I’m proposing that while I’m here on my knees, I put your dick in my mouth to see how far down my throat it can go.” He leaned back with a wink. “Distraction is a bonus.”
Goddamn. Mathieu’s brain cells scattered and somehow his right hand was at Win’s nape, fingers digging into his flesh as Win kissed his way down Mathieu’s chest, stopping at his navel to inhale deeply.
“I’m still angry,” Mathieu felt the need to point out.
But Win only chuckled, the sound vibrating, sending ripples across Mathieu’s body. “I’ve always liked your anger.” His tongue traced the waistband of Mathieu’s boxers, then his fingers were there, tugging them down.
Mathieu lifted his ass up off the chair so Win could pull his underwear down his legs before tossing them aside.
Win sat back on his haunches for a beat, just gazing at him, and Mathieu let him because he loved Win’s eyes on him. It made him feel greater than he knew himself to be, made him feel precious in a way he didn’t know how to deal with. The expression on Win’s face choked Mathieu up, the love there, the appreciation, so blatant it was blinding. He could turn away from the power of it, but Mathieu was too selfish for that; plus, he didn’t want to miss a moment, not one instant, of the many expressions that filtered across Win’s face before he touched the tip of one finger to Mathieu’s dick head.
Mathieu bucked at the contact, breath leaving him in a rush. Win brought that finger, wet with Mathieu’s pre-cum, to his lips, sucking it off loudly, and Mathieu grabbed the edge of the table to keep from sliding off the chair into a puddle at Win’s feet. Nobody made him feel this way, and he’d spent a lot of wasted time and energy chasing this, wanting this, trying to recapture it when it’d been there all along waiting for him.
“Win,” he groaned out the other man’s name, and Win’s lips twitched. “Remind me. Remind me what that mouth can do.”
Win touched him again, wrapping his palm around Mathieu’s length, head bent. Then he spit on Mathieu, a glob of saliva that landed on his crown and then slid down, slowly.
Torturously.
Mathieu lifted his ass off the chair, seeking more, begging with his hand on the back of Win’s neck. Win licked him, from root to tip, taking back his saliva only to spit on him again.
“Fuck.” Mathieu bucked. “Win.”
Win’s stiffened tongue danced on Mathieu’s flared cock head, tracing every curve, every corner. Mathieu’s bones shook and he knew the grip he had on Win was painful, but the other man didn’t seem to notice. Win parted his lips, took Mathieu into his mouth, and Mathieu hissed.
“Oh fuck!”Pleasurewas too weak—as weak as Mathieu’s knees at that moment—to describe what he felt. To describe the fire that left his spine in ruins and melted his vocal cords.
Win took him deep, hummed around him, then retreated only to suck him back inside. Theup/downmotion of his head, the tight but wet grip he maintained on Mathieu’s length, stroking with every swipe of his tongue; they were all designed to destroy Mathieu’s control. He died in the depths of Win’s mouth only to be brought back to life with the squeeze of his throat.
“Fuuu—” Mathieu rocked his hips, sinking inside that hot, wet mouth. Win’s teeth glanced over his sensitive length and made his eyes cross, as Mathieu bumped against his gums and slid along his tongue, burrowing down his throat the way Win wanted.
The way they liked.
Eyes closed, Win’s expression was almost serene as he deep-throated Mathieu. Mathieu couldn’t stop staring at him through the haze of arousal. The beautiful man he’d hurt so deeply who’d granted him another chance at this, at them. That idea coupled with Win’s talented throat game had Mathieu shaking like a leaf in a windstorm.
His balls ached, and as if he read Mathieu’s mind, Win touched him there, wet fingers tugging, twisting. Mathieu’s body bowed at the force of that pleasure, sparks going off in his brain, at the base of his spine. He curled his toes into the floor, struggling to hold on, to prolong it, keep it going, keep sliding in and out of Win’s throat, deeper and deeper…
