“Try what?” Yuri’s exasperation had morphed into suspicion. “See what?”
“This.” Angelo braced himself then did what should’ve been the unthinkable: he palmed Yuri’s cock, which wasn’t as hard as it had been earlier, and squeezed it experimentally. Needing more contact with Yuri’s hot skin, Angelo stripped first Yuri, then himself of their undergarments. For the first time, Angelo curled his fist around Yuri’s hardening cock.
Yuri’s eyes snapped shut. “Oh shit oh fuck. What are you doing?” Despite his protest, Yuri thrust into Angelo’s hand. Probably involuntarily. A hand on your dick was a hand on your dick, no matter who it belonged to. Although Angelo had known, if not acknowledged, for some time that he knew that wasn’t the case for Yuri. He wanted the hand on his dick to be Angelo’s and not just any willing hand. And while that had always made Angelo a combination of uncomfortable and frustrated, it also, over time, had started to make Angelo feel both powerful and possessive.
“Do you like this?” Angelo asked, his voice low and husky. Because somehow, despite how fucked up the whole situation was, Angelo needed Yuri to like it. How cocked up was that?
Yuri made a long, guttural noise, something like, “Uuuuuuunnnnggggghhhhh,” as he thrust his hips forward.
That was probably an affirmative.
They had drawn so close together that Angelo’s cock bobbed against Yuri’s stomach, no doubt painting his skin in precum. A thought, one of those intrusive ones, popped into Angelo’s head. He wanted, against all reason, to lick the sticky trail he was leaving off Yuri’s skin. The thought made him shudder and his cock throbbed insistently, hard and needy to the point of pain.
“God,” Angelo whispered. “You’re so beautiful. Has anyone ever told you that? You’ve always been pretty. Too bloody pretty. But now…”
Yuri made the guttural noise again. His hand gripped Angelo’s bicep with fingers that were bands of steel. “But what? God. I’m going to come. I’m warning you, Angelo. Jesus! Fuck. I—” Angelo pulled his hand back and Yuri moaned abjectly. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Please. I’ll stop talking. I’ll do anything, but—”
“You don’t get to come without me. You haven’t earned that.” Angelo had seen this in his porn research. Mimicking what he’d observed, Angelo took Yuri’s erection and lined it up with his own, moving Yuri’s entire body until they were aligned perfectly. Then he took both their cocks into his hand and stroked them in unison.
It wasn’t like Angelo had imagined. Not at all.
It was way fucking better.
“Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh—” Yuri stuck the fleshy part of his hand into his mouth then screamed behind it. Angelo was grateful for his consideration. The last thing he wanted was for his neighbors, the bodyguards, to hear a scream coming from his flat.
Hot wetness fell onto Angelo’s fist and a sharp, familiar smell hit his nose. They usually pretended it never happened, but it happened more often than not when Angelo disciplined Yuri. He would come, untouched by Angelo or himself, helpless to hold his pleasure back. Angelo thought of things he’d seen, like orgasm denial, and it had made zero sense to him until just this second. The idea of controlling Yuri’s orgasms made something primal within him want to roar with approval.
Even now, Yuri tried to squirm away from him. “I can’t… I… it’s too much. Please. It’s too much. God!” Then he muffled another scream when Angelo didn’t let his cock go.
“You can take it. You will take it. Do you hear me?” With Yuri’s cum mixing with his own precum, Angelo’s lubricated fist flew as it pumped both their cocks. “Yuri, do you hear me?”
“Please!” Yuri wailed. “Please!”
“You’re getting hard again, princess. Fuck. Hard for this. Hard for me?”
Yuri’s hand, which had been digging into Angelo’s shoulder, went to Angelo’s hair and he threaded his fingers into it and gripped hard. Then he brought their mouths together. Angelo expected another kiss, but instead, Yuri bit Angelo’s lower lip with his teeth.
That was what did it. The bite threw Angelo off the cliff he’d been avoiding for what seemed like his entire life and he fell down, down, down, leaving his heart and his cum behind.
After being unable to move, speak, or think for several minutes, Angelo dredged up some remaining strength and will, made Yuri lie on his back, then straddled his thighs. He looked down into Yuri’s face, noting a drop of blood on his pink lips. Putting his finger to his own mouth, Angelo pulled it away and saw that sure enough, there was a thin line of blood that Yuri had drawn with his teeth. Angelo panted, trying to get his damned breath back, and stared down at Yuri. He had his eyes tightly shut and otherwise looked like a thoroughly debauched angel.
Yuri opened his eyes as Angelo used his thumb to wipe away the blood from his lip. They were wide and wary as they gazed up into his. Angelo waited for Yuri to speak until it became obvious he wasn’t going to.
“Are you all right?” Angelo asked. He wanted to know, but he also lacked anything else to say and felt the need to fill the silence.
Yuri laughed and it sounded on the edge of hysterical. “No. I am nowhere near all right. You can’t take this back, Angelo. It happened. It can’t unhappen. You may think you can make it all go away and pretend we hallucinated the whole thing, but we. Did. Not.” He glared up at Angelo defiantly. “That’s bollocks.”
“I know,” Angelo said, but with some trepidation. Now that it had been burned behind him, Angelo wasn’t sure he wanted to be on this side of the bridge they’d just crossed together. He didn’t suppose he had much choice, though.
“You keep saying that, but I really don’t think you do. Still straight, Angelo, my love?”
Angelo stared down at Yuri. “What kind of fucking question is that?”
“A pretty fucking valid one, I think.”
“I…” Angelo trailed off
