If The Seas Catch Fire(54)

Dom kissed the side of his neck, and his hips moved slowly, fluidly, almost lazily against Sergei. They weren’t groping or winding each other up—just touching. Kissing. Sergei was in no rush, and he hoped to God Dom wasn’t either. Orgasms would happen when they happened. Maybe. He wasn’t even sure he could come tonight, but he didn’t care. This was the part he desperately needed—strong arms around him, hot skin against his, someone’s breath cooling and warming the side of his neck.

He’d never been so grateful for another man’s company. He’d needed someone to distract him tonight, but he hadn’t even imagined…this. That Dom could not only make him feel alive, but make him feel like it was worth staying that way. That despite everything, he was still worthy of a kind hand and a passionate kiss. He didn’t try to make Sergei justify why he needed this tonight or make him earn it. He just gave it as if there was no reason not to.

Sergei could barely keep it up tonight, but he didn’t want to stop this. Dom obviously didn’t have the same problem—his prominent erection pressed into Sergei’s hip, grinding against him every time they moved.

“Want… you on top,” Sergei panted.

Dom shivered. “Let me get a condom.”

Sergei nodded. He very nearly told Dom to forget the condom and just f*ck him, but he still had enough rational thought left to keep that to himself. They barely knew each other. They were both dangerous men. Sex was already pushing the bounds of sanity—unprotected was going a little far.

Dom put on the condom, and Sergei turned onto his hands and knees. He had to struggle to keep his breathing steady as Dom put some lube on him. As Dom slid a finger inside him, Sergei swore; he wanted Dom to hurry up and f*ck him, because this position meant they were barely touching. Only the one finger—now two fingers—penetrating him, and a hand on his hip to keep him steady. Otherwise, Sergei’s skin practically burned with the absence of Dom’s against it.

Finally, though, Dom slid his fingers free, and Sergei held his breath as Dom guided himself in. As Dom pressed into him, Sergei’s vision blurred. Hell, his mind blurred. He hadn’t been f*cked in too long, and now that the head of Dom’s cock was inside him, he wanted every inch. All of it at once.

Dom took his time, though. He was big enough he could’ve made this hurt, but he was too careful for that. He eased himself in until Sergei’s body yielded to him, and even then, he moved slowly, taking ages to slide all the way inside, then all the way back out, then all the way back in again.

“Fuck…” Sergei’s head spun. He couldn’t hold himself up, so he sank down to the bed, and Dom followed.

And… there. Skin. Sergei was stretched out beneath Dom now, and they touched everywhere, from their feet to Dom’s lips in Sergei’s hair. Even when Dom almost pulled out, he didn’t break contact—his body still touched Sergei’s, and when he slid back in, Sergei sighed with both arousal and relief. He pressed his forehead into the pillow, arching into Dom’s chest.

Stubble scraped his shoulder, and then soft lips met his skin.

“You feel so good,” Dom breathed. “God, you just…”

I do feel good. I feel f*cking amazing. Overwhelmed, Sergei shut his eyes, squeezing a hot tear free. Holy f*ck.

Dom groaned. He whispered something in Italian, something that may or may not have been meant for Sergei’s ears, and a shudder rippled through him. Hot breath rushed across Sergei’s shoulder. Dom thrust a few times, then buried himself all the way inside and groaned.

With a heavy sigh, he relaxed, though he didn’t put his weight on Sergei. “My God.”

Sergei exhaled.

Dom kissed the back of his shoulder. “You didn’t come.”

“It’s okay.” Sergei found Dom’s hand and laced their fingers together, ignoring the fact that a touch like that should’ve been out of place between them. Or the fact that it wasn’t out of place right then.

He turned his head, and Dom’s lips met his.

Yes. This was perfect.

Absolutely perfect.

I don’t have to come. I just don’t want you to go.



*



Sergei knew damn well he had no business getting too attached to Dom, and he told himself he wasn’t. He had to admit, though, he really, really liked this—lying beside Dom, his arm draped over Dom’s broad chest and his head resting on a powerful shoulder, with a strong arm around his own shoulders. The hand laying gently on his upper arm, the slow rise and fall of Dom’s chest, the warmth of his skin—it was luxurious. Almost as addictive as the sex. Maybe more than that.

It was no wonder their late night liaisons were inching farther and farther into the mornings after. And the fact that Dom was one of them… it barely even registered anymore. Right or wrong, dangerous or not, he was just Dom.

After God only knew how long, Dom broke the silence. “Can I ask you something?”

“Can’t promise I’ll answer.”

“Fair enough.” Dom absently ran his hand up and down Sergei’s arm, probably oblivious to how much Sergei loved that gentle, affectionate contact. “Why do you work at that club?”

“Hmm?”

Dom’s hand stopped. “You’ve got an amazing body, but… I can’t imagine stripping is the only thing you can do.”