“Get off me,” Yuri said, his eyes and his voice gone cold as the snowy winters of Mirea.
“Princess—”
“Do not ‘princess’ me, you arsehole. Now get the fuck off me.”
“What are you going to do?” Angelo reflected that he sounded like a worried mother more than anything else. Yuri squirmed and kicked until he was free from Angelo’s weight. Not that Angelo exactly fought him. Mostly, he just rolled to the side.
“I’m going to take a shower and use your toothbrush and put on my clothes and then get a car to take me to Paddington. Is that acceptable?” Yuri’s voice dripped with anger and scorn and something else Angelo couldn’t quite put a finger on.
“I’ll take you. You know I have a car.”
“Fuck. Off.” Yuri bit the words off and spat them at Angelo, then he turned and stomped out of the room. He made two false starts, but did eventually find the en suite bathroom.
While the water in the shower ran, Angelo got dressed. He tried to ignore the cum that had dried into an itchy, flakey mess in his chest hair.
I just had sex with a man, he thought. No. Worse. Or maybe better. I don’t fucking know. But I just had sex with Yuri. Because that was exactly what had happened. It had been sex. Not fooling around, or a mistake, or even, as Yuri had suggested bitterly, a hallucination. Angelo could try to fool himself all he liked, but he and Yuri had had sex. That was the truth and there was no point denying it. Angelo’s stomach dropped to his toes and he ached inside from what he’d done and that now couldn’t be undone. He couldn’t seem to get the taste of Yuri out of his mouth or his scent out of his nose.
Yuri was his, had always been his. Angelo knew every single thing about him like the back of his hand, but right now, he had no idea at all what was going through Yuri’s head or how they would manage to go on now that this had happened.
All he knew was that nothing would be the same. Not ever again.
“Fuck,” Angelo muttered to the empty room. “Fuck.”
15
Yuri Cocks Things Up
Yuri sat on the train to go back to Oxford with a pounding headache. He’d stolen some ibuprofen from Angelo’s bathroom cabinet but it hadn’t worked much, only taking the sharpest edge off the pain. The train car was mostly empty, for which Yuri was grateful. It meant he could sulk in peace.
Unfortunately, he didn’t have much to do other than sulk. He’d neglected to charge his mobile last night and it was dead as a doornail. It gave him well over an hour to do nothing but think about what had happened that morning.
It had been both the best and worst thing to ever happen to him. He’d told Angelo that he could make do with a sliver of Angelo’s affections if that was all he could give, but that had been a lie to both of them. After lying on Angelo’s bed, surrounded by his large body and bewitching scent, and being handed one of the most intense orgasms of his entire life, Yuri had stupidly thought Angelo had also been moved by the experience. It had certainly shaken Yuri, and badly. Or perhaps wonderfully. It depended on one’s point of view.
But no. Angelo was still the same old Angelo: hot and oblivious and as unobtainable as touching a star. Stupid. So stupid. He should be content with Angelo’s scraps of affection. They were more than he thought he’d ever have. But having gotten a taste of how good it could be, but never would become, all Yuri wanted to do was turn back the clock and talk Jacki into going anywhere but London for her birthday.
His one consolation was that he’d had the first orgasm in ages not brought on by his own hand and he didn’t have to worry that his lover would take the story to a tabloid. It was scant consolation but at the moment, it was all Yuri had.
Yuri unlocked the door to his Oxford home only to be confronted by Jacki and Philippe. Jacki looked pissed but Philippe seemed relieved.
“There you are, your highness,” Philippe said. “Shall I ring your parents to fix whatever disaster occurred last night?”
“God, no. Everything’s fine.”
“Everything is not fine, you prick!” Jacki seemed livid with him. She paced back and forth on the wooden floor.
“Why are you pissed off?” Yuri asked her. “I swear to god I never peed in your porridge.”
“Melanie and I’ve been worried about you, you asshole! We waited and waited and waited for you to show up at the station. We eventually gave up and went home, but neither one of us has had any sleep. I sent her back to our place because she has to work this evening. You didn’t answer any messages or calls, Yuri. You never made it to Paddington. I wanted to call the police, but we all know what that’ll cause. I’m not prematurely attaching you to Angelo. That shit will come soon enough on its own.” She stopped pacing and stood still, facing down Yuri with a death stare. “You scared me, Yuri. Don’t do that again.”
“But you ditched me!”
“Only after you told me and Melanie to fuck off, arse face!”
Yuri didn’t quite remember saying that, but he supposed he might have. He’d been feeling like utter shite that whole night watching Jacki and Melanie be happy and in love and knowing he’d never, ever have what they did.
Yuri decided that hovering uncertainly in his own home was stupid, so he stalked across the room and fell heavily into a deeply cushioned chair.
“Would your highness like breakfast? Miss Jacqueline and I have already had our repast.”
Yuri saw through Philippe’s obsequiousness. He wasn’t being helpful.
