Icebound
Page 13
It doesn’t look like tonight will be any different.
Drake slides up until the head of his cock rubs against Shane’s lips, only laughing when Shane tries to lick it, straining up against the weight of Drake straddling his chest. “Hungry for my cock? You sure look like you want to get it in your mouth.”
“Please.” Shane hears his own voice come out low and husky, pleading, whorish. He tries again, lips parted and eager, and Drake holds his head down.
He leans forward, smearing his lips with clear fluid, tongue flicking out to taste, and this time Drake doesn’t tease him. He slides in, slow, relentless, letting every thick inch of his cock fill Shane’s mouth. “You’re so good at taking me,” he says softly, reaching down to stroke Shane’s hair even as he holds him in place. “I missed your mouth so much.” Shane’s hips twitch upward, rutting against empty air and wishing it was something, because he’s so hard he hurts, and with the way Drake’s sitting on him he can’t even reach down for his own cock. The tears in his eyes are more from frustration and need than from pain or gagging as Drake stuffs his mouth full, dragging hot and bitter across his tongue, and the taste alone almost makes Shane come without being touched.
“You’re cute when you’re desperate. You can breathe?”
Shane glares cross-eyed at him, the very epitome of if I couldn’t, you’d fucking know about it.
Not knowing one’s strength is all very well. Drake’s a huge guy, but he knows his own strength plenty. It’s Shane’s strength he always seems to forget about. Then again, if he really had forgotten, he wouldn’t be sitting on Shane’s chest and stuffing his cock down the other man’s throat.
Shane twists and writhes under him, slurping hungrily at the thick hard flesh in his mouth, only too aware of how slutty, how desperate he sounds, and god, if only his hands were free, it would only take a single pull of his dick to make him come.
“You’re perfect,” Drake grunts, riding his face hard, forcing every last inch down his throat, holding him close, fucking his face hard without pulling out more than a couple inches. He holds his hair, holds his head, arms pinioned with his legs, the solid bulk of him a reassuring weight. “I bet you could come just from having my cock down your throat, huh? You don’t care where you get it as long as you get fucked.”
It’s close to true, and Shane’s certainly far beyond words, beyond anything but pathetic humping up into the air, dragging his tongue frantically down Drake’s cock, determined to make it good for him, show him how much better he is than that horrible pale imitation he’s been dealing with. Irony or not, he’s made up his mind to outdo himself, and show that old version of himself how superior he is.
More than anything, he just wants Drake to come in his mouth.
The look on Drake’s face changes, something pleading, needing, as wanting as it is controlling. “You hungry, baby? You want me to come in your mouth? You gonna swallow it all?”
It’s nearly impossible to talk, to even nod around the thick cock filling his mouth, but oh, Shane tries. He tries with every twitch, every thrash of his willing body, every blink of his watering eyes.
Drake strokes his face with one thumb, wiping the tears away. “Good boy.” He pulls out, breathing hard, and works his hand over his cock, the other still supporting Shane’s head. “Open your mouth. Wide.”
Shane does as he’s told, licking his lips, tasting Drake on them already. “Please,” he whispers, eyes locked on Drake’s hand, pumping himself fast. “Please, I need it, please.”
“I said open,” Drake growls, and Shane obeys just as Drake comes, filling his mouth, some spilling out to drip down his lips and chin.
At a nod from Drake, he swallows, tongue flicking out to lick up the drops he’s missed, then collapses back onto the bed with a sigh. “Please, baby,” he begs softly, “you’re going to kill me.”
“What do you want?” Drake slides off him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“I…” Shane swallows again, hands fisting in the sheets to keep from just grabbing his own cock and yanking until he’s done. “God, baby, I want everything. I want you to fuck me and I want to fuck you and I want to fuck your mouth and I want to ride your hand until I come all over your face and—I need to come, baby, I’m not making much sense.”
“You’re making plenty of sense to me.” A little flush creeps over Drake’s cheeks, and he nods. “You want to fuck me?”
A low shudder rakes through Shane’s body. As hazy as his memory is, he knows damned well that he hasn’t had Drake’s ass in a decade. A little grin plays over his lips as he squeezes the base of his cock, trying to regain some measure of control over himself. “You know, I got fucked plenty. But I’m willing to bed that you haven’t had anything in your ass since I sold my soul.”
“Good thing I’m not a betting man, huh?”
Shane groans, lurching forward and flipping Drake onto his hands and knees, getting a knee up between Drake’s legs to spread them wide. He leans over, breath hot as he murmurs into Drake’s ear, “I know you like being on your back, but trust me, this’ll be easier. You can always look at my pretty face later.”
He kisses his way down Drake’s back, tasting the remnants of soap from the shower, of sweat from the last hour or so, of Drake the same as ever. “Mm…wider, baby. Spread your legs for me.”
“Shane, no, I told you, I don’t like—”
Shane laughs, squeezing Drake’s ass, urging his cheeks apart. “Nah. I heard you fucking wailing last time I did this.”
“That’s—that doesn’t prove—”
“Tell me honestly you don’t like it, and I won’t. Or is this just one of those little things you do, like when you let me top at first because you were afraid your cock was too big for me?”
Drake buries his head in the pillows, muttering something that sounds an awful lot like, “Didn’t know what a goddamn size queen you were.”
“Are,” Shane corrects him cheerfully, and swipes his tongue over Drake’s hole.
He relishes the way it makes the big man buck and moan, drawing different sounds than he ever hears normally. He delves his tongue inside, and there’s a sense of power, of exhilaration in seeing someone as powerful as Drake come totally, completely undone.
He wonders if this is what Drake sees, when it’s the other way around. He’s wondered before, never quite daring to ask.
It’s not a fabulous time for introspection, not when he has Drake totally at his mercy with every swipe and lick of his tongue. It’s good, but he pulls away after a few minutes and sure enough Drake thrusts back eagerly, a needy slew of noises falling from his mouth as he begs, “More…more, please, I swear I won’t complain about it again.”
“You sure you don’t want me to fuck you?”
Drake rearranges himself in an instant, knees braced wide apart on the bed, head bowed in what looks like surrender. “I—no. Fuck me, please. I…I really want you inside me.”
Shane presses a kiss to his shoulder blade, smiling as he murmurs, “I love you, baby.”
He’s gentle with Drake, no matter how Drake is when the positions are reversed. It’s not about revenge, never is, and all the revenge Shane could ever want is to see Drake thrashing and writhing because of something Shane does, because of the way Shane touches him, Shane fucks him.
Then again, given how eagerly Drake thrusts back onto his fingers, maybe he’s overestimating the other man’s need for gentleness. “You don’t feel as rusty as I’d expect,” Shane pants, withdrawing his fingers and slicking up his cock, making sure he’s dripping with lube. It’s never as easy this way, but god, the faces, the sounds Drake makes are always worth it. He can feel a tremble raking through Drake’s body, like he’s caught an anxious rabbit instead of a burly Champion of God.
“I, uh, don’t think you’re supposed to find any rust in there, really.”
“Jesus, Drake, leave the wisecracks to me. You haven’t been fucking around, have you?”
Drake shoots
him a look, copper fire burning in his eyes as he twists around. “Say that again,” he challenges, and Shane backs off.
Secretly, the reaction pleases him, more than he wants to admit. It’s selfish and horrible, but Drake is his, has been forever. “No, it’s good. Just means you’ve really got to be aching for my cock by now.”
Drake’s hand comes up over his shoulder, and Shane twines their fingers together, feeling Drake’s heartbeat pulse under his skin. “Just go slow, okay? It’s been a while since I even did anything with my fingers.”
Mentally, Shane nearly loses it at that image, of Drake in his lonely shitty little bed, thrusting down onto his fingers like they’re Shane’s cock, thinking of no one but him. Out loud, he just says, “Of course.”
The second the head of his cock breaches that tight ring of muscle, he bites his lip, hoping he’ll be able to keep that promise. It’s shockingly tight, almost painful, and it doesn’t help his resolve to go slow that Drake is shoving back onto him like he’s hungry for more.
Shane gives him a breathless little laugh, fingers digging deep into Drake’s hips, surrounded by the sight of him, the smell of him, the taste of his skin, and mutters, “Go easy on me, baby, I’m trying to be a gentleman here.”
Drake clenches even harder at that, and Shane sees stars. Involuntarily, he thrusts in harder than he means to, and that feels so good he nearly loses his mind.
Everything is chaos after that, Drake grunting and slamming back onto him, Shane thrusting deep into that tight heat with every snap of his hips, arms curled possessively around Drake’s chest and torso, one hand stealing down to curl around Drake’s cock.
He can see Drake fisting a hand in the sheets, hear his frantic, pleading breaths as he rocks back, mouth falling open at the sensation of being filled. For a minute, Shane’s jealous, but he squashes that feeling easily enough. It feels good enough to be buried to the hilt in Drake’s ass that he doesn’t mind topping every once in a while. And better than that is the expression on Drake’s face, urgent, overwhelmed, shivering at how full of cock he is and still grinding back for more.
“Inside,” Drake breathes, voice hoarse, muscles tense under his skin as he rocks, his own cock hard again and dripping onto Shane’s hand. “Need you to.”
In that second, Shane regrets nothing.
He doesn’t regret selling his soul, no matter what horrible things followed, no matter what happened. If he hadn’t, Drake would be dead, and probably Shane too, and none of this would ever have come to pass.
He’d said before that he’d do anything for Drake, anything for his love, anything to keep him. He’d never said they would all be good things.
Drake cries out as he comes, spilling over Shane’s hand, and the rippling squeeze around Shane’s cock is too much, far too much for him to handle, as aroused as he is. He bites into Drake’s shoulder, not quite hard enough to break the skin, just enough to muffle all the embarrassing things he might accidentally say as he loses all control, clinging to Drake as if they’re the last people on Earth. It’s too intense, robbing him of breath, of sight, of any concept of time and his own body. A shattering, burning thing that overwhelms him totally, narrowing everything he knows to the sensation of being buried inside the man he loves.
He can feel his heartbeat pulsing loud beneath his skin, the only sound besides their breathing in the still night air. He can’t move, as much as his muscles twitch and jump, every part of him completely overwhelmed as the sweat cools on his back.
Usually, Drake likes him to pull out right away, not overly fond of the sensation of having anything inside of him when he’s not aroused, not feeling that needing ache. Now, when Shane moves to pull out, Drake puts a hand on his wrist. “Not yet. When you have to.”
Shane presses a gentle, tired kiss to the back of his shoulder.
Outside the window, the building next to Drake’s erupts into flames.
Shane almost wants to laugh. He lowers his forehead to Drake’s back with a groan, muttering, “I think I have to.”
“Yeah. Let me grab the sword.”
Coming soon from Corinna Rogers…
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Corinna Rogers
I’ve always wanted to tell stories for a living and I can’t stand the idea that the only great story to be told in romance is will-they-or-won’t-they – especially when there’s a whole other world to explore through the looking glass once they do finally get together! Exploring the unseen side of relationships, exploring what makes characters special when they’re in awful situations, exploring how a book can grab you and refuse to let you go – those are the passions that drive my storytelling. I love world-building, I love language, and I love hearing people speak about something that makes them truly passionate. I love books that you can fall into like comfortable furniture, and trust them to take you for a ride through haunted woods. I want people to feel challenged and delighted rather than simply amused and distracted. I believe in the power of entertainment, and I hope to share some of the stories and characters that live in my mind.
Having studied, lived and taught in California, New York, London and Japan, I now live in North Carolina with the love of my life and too many cats. If you would like to find out more about me and my books, you can follow me on Twitter @Corinna_Rogers.
About HarperImpulse
HarperImpulse is an exciting new range of romance fiction brought to you from the women’s fiction team at HarperCollins. Our aim is to break new talent from debut authors and import the hottest trends from the US, bringing you the very best in romance. Whether that is through short reads for your mobile phone or epic sagas that span the generations we want to proudly publish romance fiction that gets everybody talking.
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