Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
He breathed evenly for a while, trying to distance himself from the warm male body pressed to his side, from the soft curls his fingers were still tangled in.
He’d just had sex with a man.
Roman waited, but the feeling of wrongness he half-expected to feel never came. The sex had been good. More than good.
Shaking the thought off, he focused on his plans.
The boy was almost his.
Almost.
Turning his head, Roman looked at Luke. He was sleeping like a baby, foolishly oblivious to what a monster he was snuggled up to.
Chapter 12
Luke couldn’t breathe.
Or rather, he could, but every breath took a great deal of effort, because his face was buried in the pillow and he was crushed under something big and heavy.
Before panic could settle in his sleepy mind, a familiar scent hit his nostrils. Roman. Of course it was him.
Luke breathed out and then almost laughed. The whole thing was bizarre. Relief was the last thing he should have been feeling in this situation. He couldn’t be that stupid to think he was safe with this man, regardless of the fantastic dicking he’d gotten last night.
Thinking of last night certainly didn’t help his morning wood. It also didn’t help that Roman’s beard scratched the sensitive skin of his cheek every time he breathed. And was that…? Yep, the hard length pressed against his ass was unmistakable.
Biting his lip, Luke listened. Roman was still asleep, his breathing steady and slow. He was sprawled mostly on top of Luke, heavy and firm in all the right places. His body was all muscle, a body of a man in his prime, not at all like the bodies of guys his own age Luke usually slept with.
God, it was all so very unfair. Luke had always had a bit of a thing for fit older men, assholes, authority figures, men who looked like they could crush you and not break into a sweat—and Roman was all of those things. It was as though Roman was a perfect blend of all the wrong traits Luke shouldn’t be drawn to but was.
He shouldn’t have let Roman fuck him. He should have left when Roman had given him the choice; Luke knew that. Except he hadn’t wanted to spend another night listening to some woman’s moans. He was the one who had given Roman that erection. It was his.
Great. Apparently now he was getting possessive over the guy’s erection. It wasn’t weird at all.
Luke squirmed a little, trying to dislodge Roman and get out of bed, but it was an exercise in futility. Not only hadn’t he managed that, but all the squirming only turned him on and Luke found himself flushed and panting raggedly under Roman’s body, unsure whether he wanted to get up after all or not. Scratch that, of course he wanted to—he could barely breathe and he was sticky inside and out—but his traitorous, silly body was perfectly content to remain where it was, underneath the man who had him kidnapped for God-knows-what reasons.
He squirmed again half-heartedly and his breath caught in his throat when Roman’s erection poked between his cheeks, catching on the rim of his hole.
Roman grunted and tensed up against him, his breathing no longer steady. Teeth scraped Luke’s neck.
“Hochu yobnut tebya, kudryashka,” Roman said in Russian, his voice still hoarse from sleep. “Hochu trahnut tebya bez rezinki.”
Luke shuddered. He hadn’t understood everything Roman had said, but the general gist was pretty clear: Roman wanted to fuck him without a condom, and he had used some of the filthiest Russian words for “fuck.” It wasn’t the words that shocked him; it was the fact that Luke wanted it, too, and that shook him to his core. Sex without a condom was the deepest form of intimacy, something that required complete trust in your partner. Luke never let anyone fuck him without one. Wanting it with this man was pure madness. Was he crazy?
Deeply uncomfortable, Luke muttered, “You’re crushing me.”
After a moment, Roman rolled off of him and lay on his side, propping himself up on an elbow.
Breathing out, Luke turned his head to him. Roman was regarding him intently, his blue eyes still a little hazy from sleep, dark beard framing his square jaw. Luke wondered how that beard would feel against his thighs.
“Don’t even think about it,” he said, trying not to ogle Roman’s wide shoulders and muscular chest too blatantly. “I’m not letting you fuck me without a condom. I never let anyone do that.”
A corner of Roman’s mouth twitched. “Is that honor reserved for your nice man?”
There definitely was a mocking edge to his voice when he had said the word “nice.”
Luke scowled. “Maybe, maybe not. But a man who has a new woman every night definitely doesn’t get to do it.”
The bastard actually grinned. “You’re cute when you get jealous.” Before Luke could tell him how ridiculous it was, Roman leaned in and licked the corner of Luke’s lips. “Go brush your teeth. I want to kiss your pretty mouth.”