9 Eric
Eric
“Ooof!”
The hit is like sprinting face-first into a brick wall that’s breathing. A wall of slick, almost naked, and overheated muscle slams me backward. My vision goes fuzzy for a split second as I reorient myself, but then the scent hits.
Salt and exertion.
Him.
The last person on earth I want crashing into me, and now we're skin on skin, with heat bleeding through what little fabric stands between us. My head is too jumbled to deal with him right now. The performance has left me vulnerable, and I'm taxed too far to hold everything inside.
“Shit, I'm sorry,” Dmitri mumbles as he grabs my arms to steady us both. His hair is soaked and plastered to his face, and his normally olive complexion is flushed a deep peony pink.
As I glance down, it hits like a gut punch that he’s stripped to nothing but gray boxer briefs.
The thin cotton stretches tight and molds to him like a second, sweat-damp skin, and every thick inch of his cock is outlined in shameless detail.
The dickprint is blatant, pornographic, and carved right there against the fabric like it’s daring me to look away.
Lust rockets through me, hard and immediate as heat floods my groin. A week of fighting this shit, and one look at him like this has me half-hard and aching in seconds.
My shoulders jerk as I force myself to snap out of it, and I wrench myself from his grip. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
His lips twist in clear irritation, but he obeys and releases me, then plants his hands on his hips like he’s daring me to keep pretending I’m unaffected.
I glue my eyes to his, determined not to look down.
“Sorry,” he says, low and gravelly. “Didn’t realize the room was occupied.”
Fucker. His dick doesn’t care about apologies. It’s still there, heavy and outlined, pulling at my peripheral vision like it’s got its own gravity field. My gaze twitches downward against my will.
Magnets. It’s gotta be magnets sewn into the waistband.
Or maybe he dusted that shit with cocaine and now I’m hooked by proximity.
Either way, it’s winning. And I hate that I want to let it.
“Whatever,” I mutter as I try to step around him, but his hand slaps against the door frame and blocks my path.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he says.
I fix him with a glare and bring my hands together in a slow, sarcastic clap. “Brilliant observation. Absolutely top-tier detective skills. You're a regular Sherlock Holmes, aren't you?”
Muscles jump in his jaw, and his cheek hollows as he bites the inside of his lip. “Are we ever going to get past this, Eric?”
“Nope.” I punch the P, relishing the spark of irritation in his glare.
His grip on the doorframe tightens until veins bulge along his forearms. “For fuck’s sake, can we act like adults for two minutes?”
A slow, triumphant smirk curls my mouth. “Nope.”
He lets out a low, scoffing growl that vibrates through the narrow space between us, and I drink it in. His temper is my favorite armor. The angrier he gets, the easier it is to pretend I don’t want to shove him against that same frame and bite the frustration right out of his throat.
Heat fuels denial, and rage keeps me safe.
It’ll crack later. It always does. But for now, I only say, “If you’re done with the redundant questions, I need to load my car.”
“No.”
I cock my head, eyebrow quirking as I eye the thick, corded arm blocking me like a steel gate. “No? That’s your big rebuttal, caveman? Give me sentences. I know you’ve got ‘em in there somewhere. I don't respond to your grunts.”
His lips quirk into that infuriating sly smile as he closes the distance, nose almost brushing mine. My pulse gallops, and my cock leaps like it’s trying to punch through my zipper.
I mentally yell at every nerve to stand down.
They laugh.
“You had a particular response to my grunts, if I’m not mistaken,” Dmitri purrs, low and smug, as his hand drifts south and palms my cock through the denim like he owns it.
My face stays neutral. Heroic, even.
My dick? Absolute chaos.
It surges eagerly against his grip, rubbing itself against his fingers like an overenthusiastic dog grinding for belly rubs.
Zero dignity.
Full betrayal.
Fucking dick.
“Mmm, you’re hard,” he hums, stroking up my length with torturous slowness, squeezing just enough to make my knees want to buckle. “Is that for me?”
“No,” I hiss through clenched teeth, thighs trembling with the effort not to thrust into his hand like the desperate slut my body clearly is.
He lets out a playful, dismissive hum, not buying my lie for a second. “Are you sure about that?” The silence in the bathroom is broken by a quiet zip, and a soft whimper betrays me as my jeans loosen around my middle.
He leans closer, his breath ghosting across my ear as he whispers, “Tell me to stop and I will.”
A rough exhale leaves me as he pauses, but my lips stay stubbornly shut.
His fingers close around my wrist as he guides my hand to his straining erection, and I don't resist. If anything, I encourage him as my fingers curl around his cock, and a sexy, breathy moan rolls over the shell of my ear. “That’s only for you, Eric. God, do you have any idea what you do to me?”
My eyes slam shut, chest heaving like I’ve been punched. Fury boils at my body’s betrayal and how desperately I want him. His lips glide hot and slow across my throat, teasing and claiming until something inside me snaps. It cracks clean through, shattering in a rush of heat and surrender.
I shove him back hard, palms flat against his chest. He rocks, then steadies himself, and those dark eyes meet mine. They're hooded and molten, with every filthy fantasy he’s ever had about me burning right there on the surface.
“Want to play with fire, do you?” I ask, my voice scraping out. “Fine. Let’s fucking play. Get on your knees.”
Pupils swallow every fleck of color in his eyes as he lowers himself, his knees meeting the floor with more grace than his enormous body should hold. I close the distance until I tower over him, forcing his head back as his gaze moves up my body like a slow burn.
The depth in his eyes is unbearable, and it pulls at every buried desire I’ve tried to kill. My lip curls in a snarl to hide how badly I want to drown in it.
“Pull it out,” I command, but as his fingers move for my button, I slap them away in a crack that echoes like a gunshot.
Anger sinks its talons deeper, ripping the lies from my throat.
“Did I say undress me? No. You’re not worth the effort.
You’ll take my cock with my clothes on like a good little slut on his knees. ”
My fingers clamp his chin too hard, and tilt his face up until his lips part under the pressure of my grip. Skin yields beneath my fingertips, and his pulse hammers against my thumb.
I tighten my grip. “Now pull it out.”
Those dark eyes hold mine—liquid heat and submissive. “Yes, sir,” he murmurs, the words sliding over me like sin and surrender.
Deft fingers free me from the zipper, and my cock juts out, thick and leaking, flushed dark against the open denim.
He licks his lips deliberately, and leans in like he’s already won. I clamp my hand harder on his chin, yanking his gaze back up to mine.
“This means nothing,” I growl.
“If you say so,” he replies, voice smooth as silk and infuriatingly steady.
“I still fucking hate you.”
A slow smile blooms over his face, and that damn dimple winks like a taunt I want to bite off his face. “If that’s what helps you sleep, baby. Your secret’s safe.”
How is he so calm while I'm on the verge of falling apart?
I tighten my grip until my thumb digs into his jaw and my fingers press until his mouth pops open wider, lips stretched taut. “Shut the fuck up and get to work.” My hands shake as I shove him down and guide him forward, eyes locked on his.
Right before his mouth closes around the head, he breathes, “All you ever had to do was ask.”
His lips surround me and wet, perfect heat envelops me. I snap my hips forward hard, burying myself deep without warning and cutting off his air.
Fury floods me in a rush.
At him for flipping the script with one whisper.
At myself for craving the stretch of his throat around me so much it hurts.
“Fuck you, Dmitri.” I drive between his lips and his gag rolls through me as I clamp my eyes shut, letting the sensation swallow everything else.
He consumes me completely, stitching every broken inch of my being back together with the wet heat of his mouth and the relentless grip of his throat that crowds out the rest of the world.
There is only this, only him, and with each brutal thrust the cracks in my chest spread further like fractures across glass, threatening to shatter me entirely.
I’m plummeting now.
In a free-falling tailspin, helpless and terrified that if I lose my hold now he'll break me open once more.
Desperation for control overtakes me so I force my thumb over his teeth and wrench his jaw wider. My thrusts are punishing, pushing deeper until his throat flutters and squeezes around me.
“That’s right, you’ll take what I give you,” I snarl as tears spill down his face. The choked gasps and coughs still aren’t enough to feed the anger so my palm meets his cheek with a sharp crack, then again harder until red blooms across his skin.
He doesn’t pull away or flinch, he just keeps sucking me in long, slow drags while his steady gaze never wavers.
“What, you like it rough?” I slap him again, hard enough to leave a burning handprint. His refusal to react only fuels the fury until a low, animal growl tears from my chest and shakes through me.
He pulls off with a slick pop, spit trailing thick down his chin as he looks up in open defiance, breathing hard. “Do whatever you need to, Eric. I can handle it. Give it to me, baby… I’ll take it all for you.”
A strangled cry tears from my throat. “Stop that!” My fingers knot in his hair with a roar as I drive back into his mouth, frantic to shut him up.