Chapter 19 #2
Dimitri’s hand stops.
Knox nearly sobs.
“I can do this all morning,” Dimitri says, conversational, his hand loose and still around Knox’s cock, his mouth at the hinge of Knox’s jaw.
“I can keep you right here, right on this edge, hard and leaking and desperate, until you give me what I want. I have a millennia of patience, angel. How long do you think yours lasts?”
Knox’s composure cracks. “Please.”
“Please what?”
“Touch me. Fuck me. I don’t—just—please.”
The words come out ragged and desperate and nothing at all like the composed Templar he usually is, and through the bond Knox can feel Dimitri’s reaction to hearing them, a surge of heat and satisfaction so intense it makes Knox’s vision blur.
“There he is,” Dimitri says, low and dark. “There’s my angel. Begging so pretty for a demon’s cock.”
He reaches between Knox’s legs. The dark magic slicks his fingers with that body-warm frictionless heat, and he works Knox open without mercy and without rush, two fingers sinking in slow and deep, curling against the spot that turns Knox’s vision white.
Knox’s back arches off the mattress and a sound tears from his throat that he doesn’t recognize.
“Tight,” Dimitri says, his voice rough, his fingers buried inside Knox.
“So fucking tight, even after last night. Your body wants to keep me out and let me in at the same time, and isn’t that just like you.
” He scissors his fingers and Knox gasps and Dimitri adds a third, stretching him wider, and his mouth drags down Knox’s throat while he works.
“You’re going to take all of me again, and you’re going to feel it for days.
Every time you sit down, every time you move, you’re going to remember my cock inside you and the sounds you’re making right now, and you’re going to get hard in that fucking coat and no one will know why except you and me. ”
Knox is shaking. He is beyond speech, beyond composure, beyond anything except the feeling of Dimitri’s fingers inside him and Dimitri’s voice in his ear, and through the bond the wanting is enormous, shared, a loop that feeds itself, and beneath Dimitri’s filthy words Knox can feel what Dimitri isn’t saying.
The three words were the admission. Everything else, the control, the deliberate destruction of Knox’s composure, is Dimitri’s way of saying it again without saying it, because Dimitri will strip Knox bare with his hands and his mouth and his voice before he will strip himself bare with his words.
Knox understands this. He doesn’t need the words. He has the bond, and the bond doesn’t lie, and what the bond is carrying right now from Dimitri’s side is so vast and so unguarded that Knox’s eyes sting.
Dimitri withdraws his fingers and Knox whines at the loss. Dimitri’s hands find his thighs and spread them wider and he lines up and pushes in, slow and steady and relentless, and Knox feels every inch, the stretch and the fullness, and his hands find Dimitri’s arms and hold on.
“Fuck,” Dimitri breathes, fully seated, their hips flush. “You feel incredible. You have no idea what you look like right now. Spread open on my cock with your hair everywhere and your pretty mouth open. Every demon in this city wants what I have and none of them will ever get close.”
He starts to move. Not the frantic wall-fucking of last night but something deeper, long slow thrusts that drag against Knox’s inner walls, and Dimitri’s pace is maddening, controlled, designed to keep Knox on the edge without letting him fall.
“You walk around in that coat,” Dimitri says, rolling his hips and making Knox gasp, “with your mace on your hip and your hair in that ponytail and everyone sees a Templar. A soldier. Something untouchable.” His rhythm picks up, not faster but harder, deeper, and Knox’s nails are digging into his biceps.
“They don’t know what I know. They don’t know how you sound when you’re desperate.
How you taste. How you feel when you come apart around me.
” He leans down, his mouth at Knox’s ear. “That’s mine. All of it. Only mine.”
Knox’s eyes are wet. He blinks and a tear slides down his temple into his hair, and it’s not the words, it’s what’s underneath them, what the bond is carrying, the unspoken thing Dimitri is pouring into him with every thrust and every breath that he will never say out loud because saying you’re mine once was the most Dimitri has ever given anyone and Knox understands that and it breaks him open.
Dimitri’s hips snap forward harder, the control fraying, the deliberate pace giving way to urgency, and Knox wraps his legs around Dimitri’s waist and takes him deeper and they move together, matched and desperate, the bond building toward a crest.
“Come for me,” Dimitri says against his mouth. “Show me. Let me feel you.”
Knox comes with a cry that Dimitri swallows, his body clenching around Dimitri’s cock, spilling between them untouched, and the orgasm rips through the bond and drags Dimitri after him.
Dimitri buries himself deep and comes inside Knox, and they shudder through it together, the bond carrying every wave back and forth until the sensation is one continuous shared thing.
Dimitri collapses against him. Knox’s arms wrap around his shoulders, and Dimitri’s face presses into the crook of Knox’s neck, and for a long time neither of them moves.
Knox’s fingers card through Dimitri’s dark hair, careful around the base of his horns, and Dimitri makes a low sound against his throat that is closer to a purr than anything else, and Knox files this information away as something precious and private that belongs only to him.
“You called me angel,” Knox says eventually, his voice barely there.
“I always do.”
Knox is quiet for a moment. His fingers trace the ridge of one horn, featherlight, and Dimitri’s breath catches against his neck.
“It didn’t hurt this time,” Knox says.
Dimitri lifts his head. His red eyes are unguarded in a way Knox has never seen, and the expression on his face is not the sharp grin or the fury or the performance. It’s just him. Just Dimitri, with the armor off, looking down at Knox in the morning light.
He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to.
The bond is open between them, and what Knox can feel from Dimitri’s side is answer enough.
Knox reaches up and traces the line of Dimitri’s jaw, the same gesture Dimitri made with a claw in a hallway that feels like a lifetime ago, and Dimitri’s eyes close and he turns his face into Knox’s palm and stays there.
They don’t say anything else. They don’t need to.