“Fuck,” Dom breathed. “Oh… fuck.” With a violent shudder, he threw his head back. The only sound that escaped him, though, was a strangled cry, and then he was completely silent as he thrust a few more times.
He slumped over Sergei, trembling and panting. Even after he’d pulled out, he just stayed like that for a moment, as if he wasn’t sure his arms could handle anything more complex than simply holding him upright.
Then he lowered himself a little and planted a soft kiss in the middle of Sergei’s chest. And another one, lower this time.
Three kisses, and Sergei was ready to come unglued. Squirming beneath him, kneading handfuls of coarse motel sheets, he struggled not to come from anticipation alone.
Yes, Dom. Yes, please. Please…
In the same moment Dom took Sergei’s dick into his mouth, he slid two fingers inside him, and the twin sensations almost sent Sergei through the roof.
Fingers moved. Lips and tongue teased. Nerve endings turned to electricity. Sergei was sure he was levitating off the bed, and he didn’t care as long as Dom’s mouth kept working that insane magic. When did he learn to deep-throat like that? Hell, it didn’t matter. He’d learned, and he was doing it, and then he was focusing on the head of Sergei’s cock, swirling his tongue as if he knew that would drive Sergei right out of his fucking mind.
Sergei’s vision blurred. He thought he heard himself cry out, but he wasn’t sure and didn’t care—he was flying, and he was trembling, and Dom didn’t stop until Sergei managed to whimper “N-no more.”
Sergei collapsed onto the pillows again. “Oh… my God…”
Dom kissed him lightly, his lips slick and salty. “I think you’ve spoiled me.” Another kiss, shorter this time. “Sex with you is amazing.”
“L-likewise.” Sergei wrapped his arms around him, and they just kissed lazily.
After a while, Dom got up, and he helped Sergei up. They showered together, barely noticing how cramped the stall was since they were still wrapped up in each other.
Clean, more or less dried off, they climbed into bed together. Sergei had little doubt they’d be fooling around again before long, but for now, they just held each other.
Why don’t I want to let go?
Dom said he’d be gone for a while, but he’d fucked Sergei like he never wanted to leave this hard bed. And now Sergei didn’t want to leave it either.
In the beginning, Sergei hadn’t even bothered promising himself that this was sex and nothing more because there’d been no need to promise that. He didn’t get attached to gangsters, especially not Maisanos. And there was no room for attachment. He had Mama, and he had his plan. He needed nothing else, and he welcomed nothing else.
But here he was, lying beside Dom, listening to him breathe and memorizing every arc those calloused fingers drew on his shoulder. He didn’t want to leave, and yet his chest hurt because this felt like goodbye. Like a real goodbye. The kind people said when they knew they’d never resurface. The kind that happened in this brutal, unforgiving world where a man, upon realizing there was a price on his head and a red dot on his chest, would often just surrender. Perhaps out of honor, perhaps out of the realization that there was no escape, so why run? Perhaps out of relief, as if this were the closest to suicide their god would allow.
Make it quick. Make it count. Ciao.
Why the hell did this feel like that?
But more than that, why did Sergei care?
Chapter 26
This morning, he’d taken his cousin’s life.
This afternoon, he’d learned he was his uncle’s heir.
And tonight, he’d lost himself in his lover’s arms.
Dom was wide awake, but Sergei slept soundly beside him. The faint light coming in from the parking lot illuminated the very edges of him, tracing his profile as he breathed softly with his back to Dom.
Dom envied his ability to sleep tonight. Then again, after the way they’d fucked, and how exhausted and shaky he’d been after the third time, it was a miracle he’d been able to stay awake long enough to join Dom for another shower before he’d collapsed in a heap. If he was going to lose any sleep over this, it would apparently have to wait until after his body had recovered.
Dom was exhausted too, but not enough to pass out like that.
Tomorrow the family would bury Biaggio. Then God only knew what would happen. All he knew was that Corrado was right. The family had a war on its hands. These were, to say the least, dark times. He’d painted a target on Dom’s back by declaring him heir to the organization, and he was an idiot if he believed this wouldn’t ignite civil war within the family once Felice found out. Infighting would be a disaster on its own, but with shit hitting the fan with the Cusimanos…