If The Seas Catch Fire(47)

Stand up? Are you kidding?

But he did what he was told, even if his legs weren’t quite sure about it.

“Not sure I can stand very well,” he said.

“It’s okay. I wasn’t planning to keep you on your feet.” Sergei shoved Dom down onto his knees. Not that it required much effort—the faintest pressure on his shoulder knocked his knees out from under him.

Dom had barely hit the floor before Sergei forced his dick into his mouth.

Oh yes. Yes, this he could handle. Maybe his legs weren’t competent enough to keep him on his feet, but with a hand on Sergei’s hip and the other around his cock, he was pretty sure he could stay upright like this.

Stroking his hair, Sergei f*cked his mouth. “You’re a hell of a distraction, you know.”

Dom moaned around Sergei’s dick.

“Kind of hard to…” Sergei exhaled. He gripped Dom’s hair and thrust just enough to push Dom’s gag reflex. “Hard to concentrate on dancing when I just… when I just want to come back here and f*ck you.”

Dom moaned again, since it was the only sound he could make.

“In fact, speaking of f*cking you.” Sergei pulled his cock free. “Bend over the bed.”

Didn’t have to tell him twice. Dom scrambled to his feet, legs still wobbly, and turned around and bent over the mattress.

Sergei quickly put on a condom, and then stood behind Dom. Dom held his breath. He gripped the sheets, ready to lose his mind from the sheer anticipation, especially as the head of Sergei’s cock teased him.

Dom was already slick and stretched, and Sergei took full advantage—one hard, violent thrust, and he was buried to the hilt. Dom moaned, eyes watering and elbows shaking beneath him.

“You did exactly as you were told,” Sergei breathed as he started thrusting. “You’re… God, this is perfect.”

Dom just moaned again. Words didn’t seem important anymore.

Sergei forced him all the way down, until his face was pressed against the sheets, and he held him there with a painful grip on his hair as he f*cked him harder.

Everything ceased to exist. Even the rough sheets beneath Dom’s face and chest faded into nothing. All that mattered in the entire universe was Sergei forcing his cock deep inside, again and again and again, so hard he made Dom’s eyes water. He felt nothing except being f*cked. The hand in his hair, the thick cock inside him, the thrusts that didn’t quit—please, please, please, do this all night.

He wanted his orgasm to stay back so he could lose himself, but he felt so good, and his impending climax was so deliciously intense, he didn’t fight it. He let Sergei drive him closer, his breath catching as the sheets beneath him added the most amazing friction. The room spun. The darkness behind his eyelids turned white.

Dom gasped. Every muscle in his body tensed. He was almost there. Almost there. Almost—

Sergei cried out something in his mother tongue, and the world exploded. Dom was coming, and Sergei was driving him down into the mattress with painful, erratic thrusts as he too fell apart.

Dom blinked a few times. They were still now. Had he blacked out? Maybe. Didn’t matter. Felt great.

Sergei withdrew slowly, and if Dom hadn’t already been facedown on the mattress, he was sure he would’ve collapsed. Jesus f*ck.

Somehow, he figured out how to start breathing again. With oxygen moving once more, his head stopped spinning, and he clumsily pushed himself up. Sergei had stepped into the bathroom and came out with a couple of coarse towels, which they used to clean themselves off.

Then Dom dropped onto his back on the bed. Sergei fell beside him.

After a while, Sergei spoke, his voice unusually soft and gentle. “You all right?”

“Yeah.” Dom released a long, ragged breath. “I needed that.”

“So I see.”

The unspoken question in Sergei’s voice turned Dom’s head, and their eyes met.

Sergei moistened his lips. “Something’s different tonight.”

“It’s… complicated.”

“Mmhmm.” Sergei’s eyebrow arched.

Dom swallowed. “I, uh, I guess I just got to thinking about things tonight. And the thing is, I’m only going to be able to do this”—he gestured at Sergei, then himself—“until I have to get married.” Good enough. And not entirely untrue. “After that…” Dom shook his head. “I don’t know. I guess I just… I feel like time is running out. Like I need this, and I need to get as much as I can while I still can.”

Sergei pursed his lips. “You need… what exactly?”

“This. What we’re doing.”

“Yeah. That’s the part I’m not sure about. You want to get gay sex out of your system, but tonight, it seemed like you came looking for something more than that. So I need to know, what do you want from me?” He narrowed his eyes slightly, as if trying to read Dom’s answers before he gave them. “A secret f*ck buddy? Or…?”

“I’m not sure. I want this. The sex, I mean. I don’t think I could ask for more than that from you because I couldn’t honestly say I could give it back.”

“So what was tonight all about?”

Tonight happened because every time I kill someone, a piece of me dies with him, and I needed—I need—to feel alive.