Page 52 of Prodigal

André clutched him, arching as Gideon kept right on going until there was nowhere else to go. Until André was stuffed fullof him. The heat from before was nothing compared to the heat of Gideon inside him. He reached up, gripping Gideon’s hair, pulling his head down, kissing him. He poured every ounce of what he was feeling into the kiss, giving Gideon all his sounds, all his moans and groans, when the other man eased back.

He lit André up, made everything in him come alive. Only to kill him with one smooth stroke when he pushed right back inside. To the brim. André was stuffedto the brimand the pleasure was like nothing he’d experienced ever.

Exquisite and dangerous. He probably would’ve been afraid of it if he wasn’t already so lost to it. Lost in their kiss. In the way Gideon held him, fucked him, moaned for him.

Lost to the multitude of sensations Gideon elicited in him, from him.

He fucked André slow and steady, every stroke hitting every sensitive spot inside André, making his eyes water and his body clench. Gideon had promised this, maybe not with words, but his every action, their every interaction, had promised this.

Now, he was delivering.

More than that, he was giving André everything he didn’t even know he wanted in a partner.

Legs around his waist, ankles crossed over Gideon’s ass, André met him stroke for stroke, breaking the kiss to bite down on Gideon’s shoulder to muffle his cries when Gideon’s thrusts sped up. They were hard and rough now, banging against André’s spot, weakening him so that he could hardly hold on to Gideon.

The most he could do was lay there and stare up into the feral eyes of the man above him. Gideon didn’t take his gaze off André, not once, and that, too, weakened André. That, too, had him feeling like he was already lost.

“You. Are. Mine.” Gideon punctuated each word with a thrust. And André dug his nails into the other man’s sweat-slicked back, feeling the rightness of that claim down to his bones. “Am I yours, huh?” He swiveled his hips, changing up his angle. “Am I yours?” he asked in André’s ear as he leaned to one side, squeezing a hand between them to wrap around André’s length.

“Fuck!” André arched off the bed, dick jerking in Gideon’s grip.

“Am I yours?” Gideon stroked him, dick in André’s ass, hand around his shaft. He stroked André until he was crying out, shaking hard enough to rattle the bed.

“Yesss.”He gave them both the answer they wanted, but it was the truth. “You’re mine,” he told Gideon. His eyes struggled to stay open, but he didn’t miss the strained grin on Gideon’s face, the way the tendons in his neck stood out.

“Then come for me,” Gideon ordered in a skin-tightening rasp. He pistoned in and out of André. “Come with me.”

All he had to do was ask. Because between one stroke and the next, André cried out, body spasming as he exploded. Coming in Gideon’s grip. As if from far away, he heard Gideon’s almost-pained hiss, felt the kick of Gideon’s cock inside him, then the warmth of his release.

Something about that heat. About that sticky claim. He was fucking glad they’d decided on no condoms earlier. His body shook in the aftermath of his climax, Gideon’s too, and André clung to him, face buried in his sweaty throat.

Holding on for dear life.

17

“I have to leave.”

That was the third time Gideon had uttered those three words since he’d woken up in André’s arms. And like the two previous times, André held on to him tighter, mumbling his disapproval.

They’d spent all night fucking only to open their eyes this morning and go right back at it. Gideon was sore in ways he hadn’t been ever. His arms and legs felt like limp fucking noddles, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want to leave that bed, didn’t want to leave André.

“Don’t you ever take a day off?” Sprawled on top of Gideon, André’s lips brushed against his throat.

Gideon chuckled, running his fingers along the other man’s nape. “Day off? For what?”

André released him abruptly and sat up. Gideon didn’t like that. He didn’t like that André’s weight was no longer on him, that his arms were no longer around him, that his breath wasn’t washing over his skin, keeping him sweating.

“Are you serious?” André regarded him with a raised eyebrow, expression incredulous. “Gideon, you don’t take days off?”

“To do what?” He reached for André, smoothing a hand down one shoulder, a smile building when André’s eyes softened, lashes lowering. Underneath the covers, Gideon’s shaft perked up, fighting for its life, wanting another go at sliding right back inside André’s tight heat.

At his question, André blew out a breath, shaking his head.

“Hey.” Gideon squeezed him gently. “What?”

“Take the day off. Spend it with me.”

“I can’t. I have meetings.” He had to go back downstairs to see Ennis. Plus, he had to check in on how the hunt was going for Sienna fucking Canto. There was that other person he’d tasked the team with finding…

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