Page 89 of Golden Eagle

He could come like this, he knew, just kissing viciously, and rutting against one another. He could already feel the tightening in his belly, the desperate way he surged against Nik’s weight on top of him. His nails scratched at Nik’s scalp, and he could feel they were trying to turn to claws, that he would leave scratches. He was sofrantic; kept imagining the way Nik had looked in the ring, how effortless it had been, the way his gaze had sought Sasha’s.

Because I knew you were looking at me.

But he had to be patient, because he wanted more.

He forced his hands to relax and slid them down Nik’s throat to his shoulders. “Wait,” he gasped against his mouth. Nik kept trying to kiss him. “Wait, I want – you have to–” God, talking was difficult.

Nik chuckled as he finally drew back, his lips pink and puffy, gaze dancing. “I know, baby, I know, hold on.”

He shifted away – Sasha whined and clutched at him – but just so he could lean over to his nightstand drawer and come back with a bottle of lube. “I’m back. See.” He kissed his forehead, and then his lips again. “Do you want to try it yourself? Or do you want me to?” His voice had never been so soft, so gentle and sweet.

The sound of it made Sasha want to cry. He swallowed and said, “You. Please.”

Nikita kissed him once more, then sat back and slicked his fingers. “Tell me if it hurts. And tell me if you want me to stop.”

“I won’t want you to stop.”

Nikita stilled for a moment, and gave him a serious look. “Sashka. I mean it. Tell me.” He held there, staring, until Sasha finally nodded. Then he reached for him.

He took Sasha’s cock in one hand. And the slick fingers of the others smoothed along the cleft of his ass, urging his legs wider, before finally brushing, feather-light, against his entrance. Even that bare touch was shocking. Sasha’s cock twitched in his hand, and Nik gave it a few slow strokes, before pressing in with one finger.

It felt…strange. Sasha couldn’t look away, stomach tensing; he felt his brows knitting together, but the sight of Nik’s hands on him was mesmerizing.

“Okay?” Nik asked.

“Yes. Just…”

“It gets better,” Nik said, and ducked down to kiss him as he worked the finger slowly in and out.

A slow, filthy kiss, tongue plunging again and again, in imitation. A kiss that broke down his chin, a chain of little nips, and a tongue dragging wetly across his chest.

Nik worked in a second finger as he grazed his nipples with his teeth.

A third when his tongue dipped down into Sasha’s bellybutton.

His erection had flagged a little, and with three, the burn was insistent, just shy of too painful. He made a wordless sound in his throat, and Nikita looked at his face, gauging his discomfort.

“Hurts?”

“Burns. But it’s not – I can – I can take it,” Sasha panted, trying not to squirm.

Nikita’s hand stilled, the fingers stretching him wide. “It’s not about ‘can,’ baby.”

“I want to,” Sasha insisted. “Please, Nik – please, I just want–”

Nikita reached, and flexed his fingers, and –oh.

“There,” Sasha gasped, hips surging upward.

Nikita pressed a hand down low on his belly, holding him in place, and grinned. “I thought that might help.” He brushed the ends of his fingers over that spot again, that bundle of nerves, and Sashamoaned.

His cock fattened again, perking up against Nik’s wrist.

Nik kept at it a moment, acute, electric pleasure that jolted through him with every little flick of fingertips. He bit his lip until he tasted blood.

And then Nik was withdrawing his fingers. “You’re ready, I think.”

Sasha whined.

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