12. Rowan #2
Rowan was safe here, in his home full of people, never alone, with a club to dance in and be human, a casino for the magic world to gather in, and space for his coven to live in if they chose.
Here with Lane, who fit unexpectedly, it felt as if Rowan had held a space at his side for him all this time.
“Please,” he begged.
Lane gripped his chin between thumb and forefinger. “Can I kiss you?”
“Yes.” Rowan angled his face, waiting for Lane to close the remaining distance. To give him what he wanted so desperately.
Lane’s lips brushed Rowan’s, his mustache tickling. Rowan sighed into the kiss, parting easily, wantonly. Lane hummed and deepened his kiss, pressing harder, working with clear purpose, his hand tangling in Rowan’s hair.
Rowan’s fangs prickled, throbbing with an unbearable ache. He pulled away from Lane at vampire speed, and his fangs dropped without permission.
Lane lurched forward, suddenly off balance, and his wide eyes landed on Rowan’s fangs. “Are you hungry?”
“No.” Rowan’s insides coiled. He felt like a newly turned vampire, an immature man who couldn’t handle himself.
Pathetic, the intrusive voice said, crashing over his sensitive skin.
“Hey, it’s fine.” Lane turned Rowan’s face toward him, catching him before he could hide completely. “You feeling eager? A little needy?”
“Something like that.” Rowan was too raw, too exposed. Worn down and out of control. It would be so easy for Lane to hurt him. Reject him. Bring back the shame Cris had instilled in him. He needed to protect himself.
He shouldn’t do this.
Lane smiled, wicked but not unkind. “Mm. Exactly how I like my good boys to be. Desperate and clinging to me.”
Rowan stopped breathing, a fire of pure lust igniting inside him.
Lane crowded forward, pressing Rowan into the couch. “Will you be a good, needy boy for me?”
Fuck, he’d kill Rowan with words alone.
It wasn’t as if he’d never had this. He’d explored his kinks extensively, but it hit different when the person calling him a good boy knew his past haunted him, even if most details remained unspoken.
“Yes, Lane. I can be good and needy for you. If you’ll take care of me.”
“Anyone who doesn’t take care of the pieces of yourself you offer has something to answer for.” Lane sounded hard, no longer playful, a shadow passing over his face.
Rowan was killing the mood. Fuck. He needed to speak more plainly, not rely on Lane reading his mind.
“That isn’t what I meant. My current partners haven’t hurt me.
I’m trying to say: we aren’t coming at this in my usual manner.
I’m submissive. I like being told what to do and taken care of, but I don’t mix sex with life.
No one gets both. No one takes care of me outside sex.
But I don’t know if I can keep that distance with you. ”
I might start needing you in other ways. Beyond sex. At least until the curse broke. After, they’d go their separate ways. Could Rowan handle the separation if he let Lane in? Was it already too late?
Lane seemed thoughtful, mulling over the bits and pieces Rowan had managed to say out loud. “I’m aware you didn’t invite me into your life, and I don’t want you showing me things because you feel you have to. Do you want to keep your usual distance with me?”
Rowan’s heart jolted, nearly painful. “No. That’s why I’m asking you to tread carefully.”
Understanding dawned, Lane’s blue-gray gaze soft as snow.
“I can respect separating how you live your life from the needy side you let out during sex. You’re still the badass vampire who holds down this city, no matter what you share with me.
Even if you share feelings that run counter to your image.
Or ask for something you haven’t had before, sexually or otherwise.
We can all be more than one thing without canceling anything out. ”
It was all Rowan needed to hear. He grabbed Lane by the front of his shirt and hauled him close, kissing as frantically as he could around his fangs.
“Fuck me over my desk,” he begged like he’d wanted it all his life. “Have both sides of me at once.”
Lane smiled against him. “Damn, Rowan. Really?”
“Yes, it’s exactly what I want. You won’t fuck it up.”
“No, I won’t. I promise.” Lane climbed off Rowan and ran a hand through his hair, collecting himself. “Get into position.”
Rowan rose and went to the desk, quickly shoving everything to one side. He bent forward, braced on his forearms, and found Lane’s gaze.
He stood, arms crossed and bulging in his snug T-shirt, jeans hugging his thick thighs. “You really do like following orders, don’t you?”
“Yes, Lane.”
“You like knowing exactly what you need to do. Having someone else in charge. But only while we play.”
Rowan nodded, appreciating Lane’s blunt confirmation more than he could say. “No command is too small. You can tell me what to do every step of the way if you want.”
“What if I ask you to do something you don’t like?”
“I’ll tell you. Red for stop, yellow if I need a moment.”
“Good.” Lane was still on the opposite side of the desk, leaving Rowan adrift and making his need grow. Perhaps that was the point. “We can have a more in-depth discussion later, but tell me your hard limits.”
Rowan’s fingers flexed against the wood. “No humiliation, no degradation or pain. I’m not adventurous compared to most. My desires aren’t particularly elaborate.”
Lane features hardened. “It’s not a competition. We like what we like, and I’m only interested in what makes you feel good.”
Rowan licked his lips. “Then tell me how to please you. Let me do a good job for you.”
“And take care of you?” Lane’s face softened, his smile sinful. “Praise you?”
“Yes…” Rowan’s face was hot. He wanted to look away and never lose sight of Lane all at once. “Yes, please, Lane.”
He took a step closer, and Rowan’s pulse spiked. “You were born to be praised, Rowan. I can fucking feel it. Look how perfectly you’re waiting for me.”
“Thank you.” The words caught in Rowan’s throat. He already felt full, sated beyond what any drink of blood could achieve.
“I think that’s enough talking for now. Do you have any lube in here?” Lane glanced around.
Shit. Rowan’s mind raced. He didn’t want to move from the desk. If it weren’t for the curse, Lane could duck across the hall. “Wait, yes, I think so. There’s a gift basket in the cupboard.” He pointed.
Lane sauntered over and opened it. “Lucky.” He set an unopened bottle on the desk and went to lock the door.
Instead of coming around the desk as Rowan expected, Lane returned to his previous place in front of him. He pulled off his shirt and tossed it next to Rowan. The soft thud of the fabric hitting the wood made him shiver.
Fair hair covered Lane’s chest, trailing down his stomach, and disappeared into his waistband. He must have noticed Rowan’s gaze, because his hand followed his line of sight, moving lower to cup his crotch.
“Like what you see?”
“Yes.” Rowan lifted his gaze.
Lane smiled, a little smug and bursting with warmth.
He undid his jeans and dropped them to the floor, toeing off his shoes.
His cock strained against his dark boxer briefs, and he took a moment to toy with himself through the material, watching Rowan’s every reaction.
Lane groaned in response, squeezing himself.
He shucked off the underwear and threw them on the desk.
They landed right in front of Rowan’s face.
Stepping forward, Lane ran a hand through Rowan’s hair. “Love how patient you are.”
Rowan glowed. “I’m glad it pleases you.”
“It does, especially when I know how needy you are. I told you to get in position, and you did, waiting without complaint, but I want to touch you now.”
Lane walked around the desk and gripped Rowan’s hips, then ran a hand up his spine, the fabric of his shirt sliding against his skin. “You look so good in these damn clothes.”
He hadn’t worn a suit jacket today, leaving his outfit at a dress shirt and slacks.
Lane’s touch returned the way it had come. “I’m going to fuck you like this. Dressed nice for me. Rumple these fine clothes so the rest of the day, you’ll be thinking about me and how I touched you. How you’re so perfect that I don’t even need you naked.”
“Yes,” Rowan moaned.
He wanted exactly this, here in his office, a room where he held such power. He was the leader of a fierce coven, but he could let go and didn’t have to hold each piece of himself separately. He wanted to be everything at once when he was with Lane.
Hands worked opened his belt, and his slacks fell to his ankles. Lane hummed, cupping his ass, then pulled his briefs to the floor. Rowan widened his stance, canting his hips.
“That’s it, offer yourself to me,” Lane crooned, hands caressing exposed skin. He pushed the ends of Rowan’s shirt out of the way and paused, like he was taking it all in. “You’re beautiful. Gonna take such good care of this ass.”
Rowan moaned, his skin on fire. Lane reached for the lube, and soon, slick fingers found his crease.
Lane circled his hole. “Good boy,” he said, long and low, drawing out the words as he pushed inside. “Take my fingers. Open up and let me in.”
Rowan’s chest expanded, light with pleasure as Lane worked him open, not rushing but not so slow he felt teased. Soon, he was taking three fingers, rocking into the motion of Lane’s hand.
“Good. Just like that,” Lane praised, his hand on Rowan’s lower back. “Fuck yourself on me.” He curled his fingers, and Rowan’s body ignited.
He cried out, hips bucking. It was so good. He loved being laid out over his desk for Lane. Doing this in a place he’d never let anyone touch him. But he needed more.
“Want to see you,” Rowan panted. “Please?” He glanced over his shoulder, but it wasn’t enough. His stomach swooped, an old broken part of him scrambling for connection even as he braced for rejection.