Murder and Mayhem (16 page)

His own cock was damp, pressing against the inside of his clothes, begging to be released so it could bury itself between Rook’s taut asscheeks. Dante licked at Rook’s shoulders, dragging his teeth over the wetness he’d left behind as he reached between Rook’s legs to cup the man’s pulled-up balls.

“Why the fuck are you still dressed, Montoya?” Rook pressed into Dante’s embrace, gasping when his balls were rolled between Dante’s hard fingers. “Jesus Christ, what the hell—”

“Tell me you want this, Stevens.” He pressed harder, ignoring Rook’s bobbing cock to pull at his sac until Rook’s trapped balls churned in his palm. “For once in your damned life, try telling me the truth.”

Rook pulled out of Dante’s hold, hissing when Dante held on a second too long for comfort before he let go. Hooking his hands in Dante’s hair, he pulled them together, their mouths clashing in a brutal kiss. Rook’s teeth scored across Dante’s jaw, and he dropped one hand to Dante’s waist.

“Take these off.” Rook bit again, rolling a piece of Dante’s cheek between his front teeth, then letting go. “And fuck me, Montoya, before the damned painkillers wear off and I feel every single fucking bruise on me.”

Dante shoved the man back, bouncing him across the mattress. Rook scrambled to get away from the edge, but Dante reached down, gripping his ankle tightly. He struggled a bit, but Dante refused to let go, unfastening his belt with one hand, then working the buttons on his fly loose. The condoms he’d found in Rook’s wallet were riding a fold in the sheets, and Dante nodded toward the packets.

“Get one of those open,
cuervo
.” With his pants unzipped, Dante took another step forward while yanking Rook down to the end of the bed. “Put it on me.”

“Think I’m just going to bend over and take it?” Rook’s eyebrows nearly buried themselves in the shock of burned cinnamon hair falling over his forehead. “Not my style, Montoya.”

The rising sun pinked the edges of the sky, and a bleed of light murmured into the room, catching on the jeweled flecks of green and gray in Rook’s odd eyes. Beard burn had scraped trails down Rook’s throat and over his shoulder, and Dante rubbed at his own chin at the sight of the marks, feeling the thick, heavy rasp of his shadowed skin on his palm. Rook’s mouth was swollen from Dante’s nibbles, and one nipple stood out red and pouty on his chest, plucked hard and tight from Dante’s fingers.

Dante stepped out of his pants, kicking them to the side. In the long hours since he’d left the house yesterday morning, his life’d been turned upside down and inside out by the man he held to the bed. Defiance set Rook’s jaw into a stony ridge, and the thin scruff on the man’s normally clean-shaven face added a vulnerability to his pretty, aristocratic features.

“I’m not taking here, Stevens,” Dante said softly. “I’m going to finish what we started a long time ago in that club, and after that, we can both walk away if that’s what you want. You want to give me as much as I want to give you. Deny that. You can’t tell me you don’t want me to push you into that bed with my dick and make you feel every damn inch of me. Can you?”

“Fuck you,” Rook ground out, looking away. “God fucking damn it.”

“Yeah, I thought so,” he murmured, snapping his waistband with his fingers. “Now get that thing open while I take this off.”

He was bigger than Rook. In nearly every way. Dark burnished gold against Rook’s paler skin, Dante marveled at the differences in their bodies as he ran his hands over Rook’s shoulders and sides, carefully avoiding any tender areas. As Rook rolled a lubed condom down Dante’s heft, he reached out to stroke Rook’s leaking cock, smearing its liquid over Rook’s tip and down over the shuck of skin around its head.

“Go easy with this thing, ’Toya. You could put a man’s eye out if you’re not careful.”

“I don’t think it’s going to be your eye I’m aiming for, Stevens,” Dante replied, running his fingers through Rook’s hair.

The condom was warm and stretched around his cock, snugging up against the root of his shaft. Rook’s fingers danced over his length, stroking him along the ridge of his cock and then down the length of the vein running hard beneath the thin skin. His balls were already tight up into his body, and his stomach jumped as his muscles tensed with anticipation.

Standing at the side of the bed, Dante spread his legs slightly when Rook nudged them apart with his shoulder. Half expecting the man to punch him in the nuts, he was pleasantly surprised when Rook pressed a kiss on the inside of his thighs, then snuffled through the soft hair running down from Dante’s belly button to his groin.

“I like the fur on you. Not too much but enough to play with.” Rook grinned as Dante squeezed out the last drops of lube from the condom packet. “Shit, that better be for me.”

“Lay back,” Dante murmured. “Let me see you.”

There were words for how Rook looked. Words Dante only knew from the romance novels his mother read out loud to his grandmother until she realized her sons were listening in.

Lascivo
.

Disipado
.

Dispuesto
.

The sheets were white, a stark canvas for Rook’s flung-out form. His knees were raised, his heels dug down into the mattress as he tried to get a better purchase on the bed. Looking up, he caught Dante watching him, and Rook’s familiar cocky smile turned sensual with a heady promise.

“God, you are so fucking hot,” Rook whispered. “Jesus, what the hell was I thinking not fucking you sooner?”

“I don’t know,
cuervo
,” Dante murmured softly, climbing onto the bed to rest his knees between Rook’s spread legs. “
¿Estás listo?
”

Rook nodded, and Dante slid his lubed fingers down the cleft beneath Rook’s taint. He grunted when Rook’s hips rose up off the bed, pushing Dante’s hand back. Leaning over Rook’s hips, Dante forced Rook’s legs apart, spreading him open to take his fingers in. Pressing against the puckered dip hidden between Rook’s cheeks, Dante slid in, hooking over the ridge of Rook’s hole and deep into his soft clench.

The agonized hiss Dante pulled out of Rook as he worked his fingers deep into his ass was nearly enough to make him lose himself before they’d even begun.

“Let me turn over.”

Rook tried to pull away, but Dante pinned him down.

Resting his weight on his knees, Dante leaned over and cocked his head. “Why?”

“Why what?” The fire in Rook’s eyes burned hotter, and something hard slipped into the man’s expression. Shaking his head, Rook pushed against Dante’s shoulder. “Just let me turn over.”

“No,
cuervo
.” He bent his head down, kissing Rook’s parted lips. “I’m not having your back to me.”

“I don’t—” He bit his lip, squirming on Dante’s fingers. “This—us. Shit, it’s too much, Montoya. I don’t know—”

“I do,” Dante whispered over Rook’s mouth. He rested his weight on Rook’s chest, delicately balancing himself as he smeared his thumb across Rook’s chin, then grasped his jaw, forcing Rook to look him in the eyes. “I want you to know it’s me inside of you. I want you to know who’s fucking you. Who is making you come. I want you to feel me deep up inside of your body, and I want to see your face when you give in. Understand me, Rook?”

“Yes.” Rook nodded slowly.

“Good.” Dante gave him one final punishing kiss.

Then plunged his hard cock deep into the heat of Rook’s body.

It was too much for him to take. Everything closed in on Rook, and at the same time, his mind was being blown open. Montoya’s cock was thick, nearly too thick to take in, but he didn’t have a choice, not when the man cuddled into the curve of Rook’s spread legs and slid in. There was too much of him—of Montoya—of
Dante
—for Rook to wrap his brain around.

Because he’d never in his life had a man’s cheek against his own during sex. Never once on a bed. And never ever face-to-face.

He’d been fucked at clubs, in the backseat of cars, in semi cabs, and once in a horse trailer, but the intimacy of Dante’s face pressed against his was too much to take. It overrode the pain in his shoulder and the aches of the bruising along his back.

There’d never been a man who’d wanted to see him. Not really. There’d been some who’d pulled his head back by his hair so they could come over his face or mouth, sometimes even deep inside of him when he’d not been smart enough to demand a condom. Those days were long gone. He’d turned into the user, the one who’d decided how and when he’d be fucked, and each and every time, he’d insisted on being taken from behind.

It was safer that way. There was never a question of vulnerability and intimate whispers. On his knees or up against a wall with his legs spread, Rook never had to see who was making him feel pleasure. He’d not had to pin a face to the sensual threads of want coursing through him, and he didn’t have to know who was tearing apart his control, making him lose his hold on his body to release everything he had inside of him.

Not until Dante Montoya. And Rook almost wished the car had killed him, because the length of Dante pushing in and out of him in long, slow strokes was going to be the death of him.

He felt
everything
. Dante’s fingers stroking his face and then the push of Dante’s shoulders against the back of his thigh as he dipped his cock in again. The slap of their bodies sounded like a feverous kiss, turning wet as Rook’s dick wept with pleasure. With every tug out, Dante sent a caressing tingle through Rook’s core, reaching up into places along his belly and chest Rook couldn’t absorb.

It was too much to take in.

And far too dear to push away.

The rasp of Dante’s scruff on his cheek matched the burn of the man’s dick working through him. There wasn’t enough lube on the condom, Rook was sure of it, but the ache of his rim being roughly stretched apart was a welcome one. It made him feel
real
, as if Dante would be there in the morning when he woke up or stumble back into bed with him the next night after he finally got some rest.

Dante’s breath on his neck was damning, an erotic enticement for Rook to want more than one single fuck. More than he’d gotten before.

It was stupid to dream. It was stupid to want. A fuck and then maybe a kiss good-bye was all he was worth.

Especially with the past they had between them. Once Dante had his fill, he’d be gone. Just like the others who Rook never wanted to stay.

And damn him if he didn’t want the man to linger.

Clenching down hard on Dante’s cock, Rook was pleased to hear him hiss in surprise. Dante’s fingers were in his hair before he could do it again, and he arched his back in response, pressing his hard, wet cock into Dante’s belly. The light trail of hair along Dante’s muscled stomach tickled Rook’s shaft, and he wiggled again, hooking his ankles around the small of Dante’s back.

They rode one another, catching into a rhythm that demanded nothing of them but the fierceness of their thrusts. Rook stretched up to meet Dante’s cock. His balls slapped against Rook’s sweat-damp skin, and Dante shifted, sliding his hands under Rook’s ass to spread him even farther apart until Rook felt himself opened up to take every inch of Dante’s dick.

His thrusts changed, going deeper and faster. Another shift and Rook’s body lit up, sending him into a spasming roil. Their bodies rocked, moving up across the mattress until Rook’s shoulders were pushed into the headboard and he needed to bend his head forward to avoid being slammed against the hard wood.

He lost track of everything but Dante’s body on his. A second ago his stitched arm ached, and then the next he was riding a lightning storm raised up from inside his blood. Rook couldn’t hold back any longer. Grunting, he clung to Dante’s broad shoulders, reveling in the power of the man’s muscles as he craned to reach deep into Rook’s ass. Dante lifted Rook’s legs until his calves rested against his chest, folding them up as he bent forward and laid in harder.

The bed rocked and creaked under them, and the headboard rattled, chips of plaster and scraped-off paint falling onto Rook’s shoulder. He didn’t care if the hotel tossed them out on their asses so long as Dante carried him the rest of the way.

A heartbreakingly tiny cry escaped him, and Rook panicked, wondering if Dante heard him moaning for more. He was fairly sure he’d whispered Dante’s name, a bubbling pop of sound nearly as private as the kiss they’d just shared. Before Rook could deny its existence, he was lost in the maelstrom slamming into him from Dante’s shattering slide inside of his ass, and Rook flew apart.

His climax hit hard. Too hard to do anything but ride it out on Dante’s momentum.

“God, coming. You’re so damned—” Dante slipped into a Spanish too hot and hard for Rook to follow.

It stung as sharp as Dante’s kisses. He didn’t need to understand what the man was saying. He caught enough of it to know Dante was going over the edge, and then the hot push of Dante’s cock came again, piercing his reason once more, and Rook fell over with him.

They came together, wet and filthy, but Rook wouldn’t have had it any other way. Dante’s lips were on his, and then the press of Dante’s tongue invaded him, licking at him until his mouth was as thoroughly fucked as his ass. Dante kept up a slow circling rhythm, milking out the last of Rook’s softening cries until Rook was left gasping for air.

When Dante pulled free, Rook whimpered at the hard pull of his skin being dragged alongside of Dante’s softening cock. He was worn out, and the pains he’d left on the couch were back, crawling down into his bones and leaving him tired and broken. Lying on the bed, he could only watch Dante get up to toss the condom away, then pull the curtains across the windows, shutting out the Los Angeles morning with a plunging darkness only broken by the green splatter of numbers across an alarm clock on the nearby nightstand.

The bed gave under Dante’s weight, and Rook let himself be maneuvered around on the mattress, murmuring in complaint only when Dante pushed his shoulder. Rook’s eyes adjusted slowly to the black, turning the room into cat-grays. Sleep fought with the pain, and he groaned, sitting up carefully.