Chapter Twenty-Three #2
“I wasn’t looking for shit,” Mathias said, pushing Rayan’s hand away. “I was holding my ground. I won’t stand by and let someone fuck me over. Or have you forgotten that, Nadeau? ”
Rayan stiffened at the callback.
“You may have succeeded in keeping me away from the family, but you can’t take it out of me.”
You think I don’t know that?
“You blame me for leaving,” Rayan said flatly.
“Fuck you, Rayan.” Mathias’s eyes narrowed. “You’re using this as an opportunity. I know there’s a million things you want to extract from me.”
“No one’s forcing you to answer.”
“Except whatever’s making this blanket feel like a hand job,” Mathias said, splaying his fingers and running his palm across the comforter beneath them. “Christ, it’s hot in here.” He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it to the floor then started on the top button of his shirt.
Rayan launched himself to his feet, suddenly furious. “Stop keeping me out!”
He’d spent the last hour sick with worry, only to discover Mathias had deliberately kept him in the dark, concealing the true reason behind the Albanians’ threats and his intention to venture out alone.
“Tell me what’s happening. I’m not your fucking subordinate anymore—I’m part of your life.
If we’re in this together, I need to know what you’re thinking. ”
“So that’s it?” Mathias scoffed. “You’re entitled to my every thought because I love you?” His face lurched into a startled grimace.
Rayan blinked, momentarily speechless. It was as though Mathias had spoken in a different language. The words sounding both beautiful and improbable coming from his lips.
“Why don’t you ever—” Rayan stopped, the rest stuck to his tongue. The question was so needy he couldn’t get past the shame of asking for it.
Mathias scowled. “What does it matter? You know I do.”
Rayan did know. A part of him had known as far back as Cyprus when Mathias had shown up, angry and addled, fighting against himself. He’d just been waiting to hear it out loud, as if that somehow made it more real. But when have words ever been the way to understand Mathias?
Rayan sat back down, silent.
Mathias brought a hand to his forehead and rubbed it roughly. “Even if sometimes I wish I didn’t. Because I don’t know who the fuck I am anymore. How does anyone accomplish anything when they can’t keep their head on straight? I used to be efficient, god dammit.”
Rayan fought a grin. “So you’re a little less efficient.”
“Among other things.” Mathias sighed. “Still, it’s better than before. I was convinced the only person I could rely on was myself. And then you had to go and change my mind.”
“You know I would do anything…” Rayan swallowed the weight of sentiment that accompanied those words. “Anything you want, you have it from me.”
“That’s a dangerous proposition.”
Rayan pulled Mathias close and kissed him, deep and tender. Mathias pressed against him, his hand curling around Rayan’s neck. Then he broke away and flopped onto his back on the bed.
“Don’t tempt me. I’m going to jump out of my skin on this shit. Feel like I could fuck you for hours and still not be done.”
A slow smile spread across Rayan’s face.
“You’re taking advantage,” Mathias warned.
“Because you wouldn’t want that?”
“I would. But I’m pretty sure you won’t once I’m done with you.”
“Try me.”
Mathias let out a short laugh, staring up at the ceiling. “You know, I had a dream about you.”
“What happened in the dream?”
“I let you fuck me.”
Rayan’s breath surged from his lungs. “And did you like it?”
“You certainly seemed to know what you were doing.”
“I do.”
Mathias raised an eyebrow. “You gave me the impression you had a preference.”
“With you, yes.”
“But not with others?”
“Not always.”
Mathias rolled over to look at him. “Exactly how many men have you fucked?”
“I’m not answering that.”
There was an amused glint in Mathias’s eye. “And women?”
“What are you getting at?”
“I’m asking how many women you’ve fucked.”
There had been just one, when he was maybe fifteen—an ex-girlfriend of Tahir’s who thought she could get back at his brother by going after him.
Rayan hadn’t been particularly interested, yet he also knew the chances of replicating such an opportunity on his own were slim.
He felt a flatness around women that he thought would disappear when he was actually with one.
It didn’t. The experience had been clumsy and regrettable.
Later, feeling like he’d broken some unspoken rule, he confessed to his brother.
Tahir had found the whole situation hilarious, furthering Rayan’s mortification.
“Enough to be sure I had no interest,” Rayan shot back.
“You’re adorable, you know that?”
“Do I want to know how many people you’ve fucked?”
Mathias reached up to graze his fingers across Rayan’s lips. “No, you don’t. But would it help to know that only one of them has ever meant anything?” He grabbed the front of Rayan’s shirt and pulled him down. “Here’s your chance, Rayan,” Mathias murmured against his ear. “I’m all yours.”
Rayan had never thought to consider the prospect because he loved what they had—nothing felt as good as submitting to Mathias—but also because he’d assumed that was a line of surrender Mathias was unable to cross.
He attempted to keep his voice steady while his heart pounded in his chest. “And have you not remember?”
“You’d remember.”
Rayan kissed him hard. His hand found the curve of Mathias’s jaw, tilting his head back as the man opened his mouth.
He felt the warmth of Mathias’s tongue against his own, urgent, wanting, and Rayan was struck by an unfamiliar surge of power.
Their normal balance had flipped. He climbed on top of Mathias and pinned his arms to the bed.
He felt, in that moment, like he could do anything he wanted.
It was painfully arousing and, at the same time, scared him out of his mind.
Mathias was breathing heavily, and Rayan could feel the firm outline of the man’s cock beneath the fabric of his pants.
Then, slowly, Rayan sat up and moved his hands away.
He rose from the bed and looked down at Mathias sprawled out before him.
As intoxicating as this person was, he’d never longed for a cleaner version of Mathias.
He’d always wanted all of him—the good and the bad, the rugged and the broken.
The bruised heart beneath the layers of scar tissue.
He would have all of him, or he wouldn’t have him at all.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Out.” Rayan smiled. “You’re going to want something for the comedown.”