And then he’d walked into the motel room, and in an instant, his heart had fallen into the pit of his stomach.
Across the room, as Sergei toed the door shut with a quiet click, Dom watched him from the bed where he sat. If he could’ve devoured him with those desperate, hungry eyes, he probably would have. He seemed even needier than he had the very first night. Not just excited, not just turned on, but almost vibrating with something that went deeper than the craving for an orgasm.
Slowly, Dom rose. Sergei came closer. They inched toward each other, as if they were skirting the edges of some dangerous chemical reaction that would level the building to their feet.
In the middle of the room, they held each other’s gazes. Any other night, Sergei would be in his arms by now, demanding access to his mouth and rubbing this insistent erection against him. But he was still. And so was Dom.
Finally, Dom reached for his face, and the soft touch sent a shiver through Sergei. They drew each other in, still moving slowly, still being cautious and hesitant for reasons Sergei didn’t understand.
“This might be the last time I see you for a while.” Dom brushed his lips across Sergei’s. “For…” Sighing, he shook his head, and then moved in for a kiss that said he wasn’t going to elaborate on what exactly “for a while” meant. And Sergei… God, he didn’t want to think about that.
“If tonight’s the last time I’ll see you for a while,” he whispered, “then let’s not waste it.”
“Agreed.”
They drew each other in for another kiss, and this one didn’t stop. Though it had taken them an age and a half to get across the floor to each other, now they couldn’t get close enough. Belts jingled. Fingers fussed with buttons and zippers. Sergei was glad they’d both worn button-up shirts tonight. It meant fiddly buttons to deal with, but clothes that could be removed without breaking this addictive kiss.
Naked, they sank onto the hard bed. The cheap, rough motel sheets beneath Sergei’s back emphasized the warm softness of Dom’s skin against his chest and between his thighs. He ran his hands over smooth muscles, pressing his fingers into the grooves and contours as if he needed to memorize every plane of Dom’s body.
Dom broke away for a moment. Before Sergei could protest, he was back, and he pushed a bottle of lube into Sergei’s hand. Sergei wanted to ask who it was meant for—who’s fucking who tonight?—but he couldn’t form words anymore, and he hoped Dom wanted the same thing he did anyway.
He poured it into his hand, and then reached between them, and when he closed his fingers around Dom’s thick erection, they both exhaled. Dom closed his eyes, licking his lips, and rocked his hips a little as Sergei smoothed lube onto every inch of his dick.
Dom offered a pillow, and when Sergei lifted his hips, Dom slid it under him.
Sergei spread his legs wide, heart pounding as Dom guided himself in. God, yes. The burn made his toes curl. Even more, though, the sight of Dom, brow knitted with concentration, lips taut, abs quivering with the exertion of slow, smooth strokes as he worked himself deeper.
Once he was moving easily inside Sergei, Dom leaned down and kissed him. His hips still moved, but he seemed more focused on what they were doing with their mouths. Sergei didn’t mind. Not in the least. One hand in Dom’s hair, the other on his ribs, he kissed him and rocked his hips beneath him and loved every goddamned second.
He’d never had sex like this before. Usually it was sweat and panting and driving each other insane until they came. And then maybe they’d collapse together if they liked each other well enough, and maybe they’d catch their breath and do it all over again until sleep took over and tomorrow hurt.
This… this was all that and more.
Every touch, every kiss, every frantic, trembling movement, added up to something he’d never imagined. This wasn’t the cooperative pursuit of pleasure and orgasms. They held each other, clawed at each other, like they thought they might actually start fusing together. Molecule by molecule, cell by cell, not just getting under each other’s skin but becoming part of each other. One thing that could only become two again if it was broken.
Dom’s breath caught. He groaned softly, breaking the kiss for a couple of heartbeats, and then claimed Sergei’s mouth again as he rode him faster. Sergei gasped, letting his head fall back. Though he missed the touch of Dom’s lips to his, he was too overwhelmed, and then Dom was kissing his neck anyway, warm lips skating along his throat, and Sergei swore softly.
Dom pushed himself up onto his arms. Eyes screwed shut, he bit his lip and rode Sergei harder. He muttered something—Italian curses, no doubt—and groaned, thrusting hard enough to slam the headboard against the wall. Sergei’s eyes watered—Jesus, he loved Dom’s cock.