Page 44 of A Life Betrayed

Mathias drew himself up, his cock curving toward the muscular lines of his stomach, and stared down at Rayan with a knowing look. “Why don’t you tell me what you want?”

Flushed, Rayan held his gaze. “You. Inside me.”

Without another word, Mathias flipped him onto his stomach. Rayan heard the nightstand drawer glide open and the snap of a lid. Then Mathias’s palm was on the small of Rayan’s back, sliding down his ass, a slick finger pressing against him to curve inside, finding just the right spot. A moan escaped Rayan’s clenched teeth. It was his fault—he’d shown Mathias how easily he could be trained. Mathias continued stretching him, two fingers now, deliberately slow, so Rayan reared against him, willing him deeper.

When fingers weren’t enough, Mathias pulled back and used his knees to spread Rayan’s legs from behind. He moved so the head of his cock rested against Rayan’s opening. Rayan could hear the thunder of his own breath in his ears. He felt Mathias’s eyes on him, making him wait. Then Mathias drove forward, and Rayan’s back arched as he was filled, a shudder spreading from his hips to his toes.

There was something intoxicating about giving himself over to Mathias, relinquishing himself to his will. Rayan had done so for years as his second, handing over his life for Mathias to do with it as he pleased. But this was different. Back then, Rayan’s devotion and desire to please had only run one way. Even now, it came as a surprise when Mathias demonstrated that those intentions were in fact reciprocal.

A hand curved around his neck, turning his head, and Mathias leaned down to kiss him, his chest pressed against Rayan’s back. They moved in tandem, an established familiarity between their bodies. Mathias lowered his forehead to Rayan’s shoulder, his arms straining as he held himself aloft, hips slamming into Rayan with each measured thrust.

Rayan’s fingers curled into the sheets—the heat, the fullness, the weight of Mathias bearing down on him was overwhelming. Mathias began to move faster, rising to press down on Rayan’s hips, forcing his legs wider and deepening the angle in a way that left him gasping. Rayan didn’t dare touch his cock, which was beading beneath him. He wanted only for this annihilation to continue—to remain in this version of reality in which only the two of them existed.

Rayan could tell Mathias’s reserves were low, his self-control depleted. The man was close, his movements no longer controlled but raw and untamed as his restraint began to crumble. Mathias circled an arm around Rayan’s chest and pulled him up on his knees. His other arm dropped between Rayan’s thighs, and his hand moved to jerk Rayan’s cock.

Arching his back, Rayan tilted his chin to press his mouth against the line of Mathias’s jaw. “Come for me,” he murmured.

With a sharp grunt, his breath cut in two, Mathias crushed Rayan to his chest and shuddered against him as he came. A wave of pleasure shot down Rayan’s spine, and he made a noise in the back of his throat, discovering he was closer than he’d realized. He grasped Mathias’s hand, still around his cock, and eased it along his shaft. Mathias, still hard inside him, rocked his hips, grazing the spot that made Rayan’s mind blur. He gave a low growl and spilled, hot and wet, through their entwined fingers.

They remained fused for a moment as Rayan caught his breath, before Mathias gradually extracted himself, his residual warmth sliding down the inside of Rayan’s thigh. Lying with Rayan on top of the sheets, Mathias’s eyes closed, and Rayan greedily searched his face for clues. Mathias opened them suddenly, catching him in the act.

“Angelo Caravella?” he asked, the corners of his mouth curving upward. “Is that your idea of a joke?”

Rayan recalled Dubois’s insistence on a name and how the memory of the two men was intrinsically linked in his mind. It had come out before he’d registered the ominous parallel. “More of a coincidence.”

Mathias shook his head, mystified. “You don’t forget a fucking thing, do you?” He let out a snort of laughter and rolled onto his back. When he next spoke, his voice was quiet. “Thank you.” The words registered like an electric shock, and Rayan’s eyes widened. “Don’t look so surprised,” Mathias admonished him. “I’m not incapable of gratitude.”

Rayan hid a smile. It seemed his former capo was capable of a lot more than he’d given him credit for. “What did Dubois make of it?”

“They couldn’t get these charges to stick, but it’s only a matter of time before there are others. Everything points to Truman. Turns out he’s kicked up a lot of dirt, and the Feds have him over a barrel. Now he’s singing like a canary.” Mathias struggled to dispel the fury from his face. He turned to Rayan, his eyebrows drawing together. “It gets murkier. Belkov has intel that Truman’s in bed with Wainwright.”

“Wainwright?”

“Roger Wainwright, chief of Hamilton PD. There are photos of them together—with hookers, money, blow, you name it. That’s the problem with a cocky bastard like Truman—he’s been greasing the wheels in all the wrong places.”

Rayan blinked as he realized what this could mean. “That kind of information… Couldn’t you use it to—”

“I’m not giving her shit,” Mathias snapped, throwing him a sharp look. “I’d rather face jail time than cut a deal with that woman.”

Rayan knew better than to challenge him. Mathias was paradoxical like that. Certain lines he had no trouble crossing.Others he upheld with a noble sort of integrity. And if there was one thing he despised above all else, it was a rat.

“Back then, what you said about Caravella,” Rayan said carefully. “The Feds start investigating, and he disappears. That was the family, wasn’t it?”

Beside him, Mathias pressed his lips together, frowning.

“This is a lot of attention,” Rayan continued, attempting to silence his own misgivings. “What will the family do?”

Mathias exhaled slowly, and there was a shadow of doubt in his eyes that Rayan hadn’t expected. “I don’t know.”

Mathias stood in the kitchen, boiling water for coffee. Two showers hadn’t been enough to forget the crawl of filth from the jail cell on his skin. Despite the fact that he’d been released, Allen had succeeded in rattling him. He’d cornered her on his turf, and she’d turned around and done the same—giving him a taste of things to come if she got her way.

Mathias poured the water from the kettle over the ground coffee in the press and eased down the handle. Rayan appeared next to him, silent on bare feet, and took down two cups from the cabinet, which he placed on the counter. Mathias filled them both with coffee and slid one in Rayan’s direction before taking a frying pan from the drawer and placing it on the stove.

After Dubois had dropped him off, Mathias had made his way to the nearest metro station and taken the train to Beaubien. From there, it was a short walk to the safe house. When he arrived at the apartment, he wanted only to scour himself. He stepped into the shower without waiting for the water to warm, convinced the cold, not the memory of that empty cell, was making him shiver. He stood under the water for a long time, letting it thunder down on his shoulders as he tried to clearthe fog from his head. It wasn’t until Rayan had taken his arm and he’d felt the warmth of the man’s skin against his own that Mathias had realized how deeply he’d retreated into himself.

While Rayan drank his coffee at the counter, Mathias took eggs from the fridge and punched bread into the toaster. He fried the eggs with one hand while sipping his coffee with the other. Then he set the toast onto two plates and piled the eggs on top, sprinkled with a dash of salt and pepper—simple, unembellished. Mathias viewed cooking as he did most of life’s obligatory tasks—not to be enjoyed, merely to be completed.

He pulled up a stool beside Rayan and placed the plates down on the counter, surprised to discover he was famished. As they ate, Mathias noticed Rayan was wearing one of his T-shirts. He’d brought so little with him from Toronto. Slightly too big, the shirt hung low around his neck, revealing the line of his collarbone. He must have found it in the bedroom dresser. It was unsettling how much Mathias enjoyed seeing him in it.

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