Page 35 of Gemini Kings
But I don’t expect to find him crying.
The sight gives me a proper turn.
In part because normally Vasili’s hard as nails. In part because he’s standing naked in the glass-walled shower, water beating down on his defenseless head and shoulders, eyeliner streaking his cheeks to mingle with his tears so it looks like he’s weeping ink.
Shit.
My gaze skates down his slender build. He’s taller than me, slimmer, he’s sleek and sinuous and lethal as a rattlesnake. We’re sparring partners as well as lovers, so I’ve learnt a healthy respect for his speed and strength.
And there’s no part of him I don’t love.
Vasili’s a runway model when he’s all dolled up (and, being Vasili, he’s always dolled up). But he’s a bloody work of art when he’s naked.
Somehow, he’s even perfect when he’s crying.
Maybe I feel that way because that vulnerable side of him, that lonely queer boy his whole world rejected, is a side of him he so rarely lets anyone see.
He’s pretty as a girl, even with makeup rimming his eyes in charcoal circles and running in ribbons over his cheekbones and dripping from his blade-sharp jaw. His hair’s slicked back against his elegant head and that lip gloss he fancies has washed away.
Still, he tries to make light of the mess, one corner of his cruel mouth curling in a mocking grin. “Don’t look, darling. I’m afraid I’m a perfect fright. Wouldn’t you know, I left my cold cream behind at the Bellagio?”
He puts on a right good show, but I know him. Under the hiss of water on gunmetal granite, his voice is all raspy.
You know, the voice you get when you’re crying.
“Fuck the cold cream. You’re bloody gorgeous and you know it.” I peel out of my Kylo clothes with indecent haste and leave everything tossed willy-nilly on the tiles.
He watches me strip down to my skin with less of that predatory menace that always makes me feel so deliciously hunted and more of that naked need he never lets anyone see. I shove open the glass door and crowd into the shower with him, gasping when the spray from the rainshower head scalds my skin. I’m a fire sign and I like it toasty, but I curse and give the knob a hard twist to cool the water down before he scalds himself.
“Sorry,” he rasps, with another wobbly smile. “Somehow I can’t seem to get warm.”
“I’ll take care of that. Come here.” I gather him into my arms with way more care than we’re used to. Normally he likes it brutal when we fuck. And normallyIlike whatever gets him off.
But tonight isn’t normal.
We’re kilometers away from anything that’s normal.
Even for us.
Despite the scalding spray, he’s shaking like blazes. I wrap myself round him, pulling his face down to my shoulder and pushing my face into his neck. His Mogadon mating scent wallops into me, all caramel and sandalwood, potent enough to make me drunk, because in his need he’s kicking out a truckload.
Zara,I send to her.Whenever you can, I think he needs both of us.
The instant spike of her concern bounces back through our bond. I know beyond a doubt she’ll back-burner her boning up on dragon shifters to give our mate what he needs. Which means she’ll be here with us in a jiffy.
Because that’s the kind of queen my girl is.
Vasili’s arms slide round my waist—but he’s clumsy, hesitant, almost shy, which for him is unheard of. And, so help me gods, his shyness makes me savage. My hands slick down the long sweep of his back, grab a double fistful of my boyfriend’s tight ass, and drag his pelvis hard to mine.
Against my neck, his breath rushes out in a grunt of surprise.
I’m not normally this aggressive, not with him, he’s got me firmly under his stylish boot and loving every tick, though Zara and Neo are a different story and I dom the shit out of both of them in the sack.
But Vasili’s hurting, that bastard dragon and his own bastard parents hurt my love, they made him feel unwanted, unloved, unlovable.
Well, I won’t blooming stand for it.
My fingers dig into his ass hard enough to leave bruises on that pale silky skin and I spread him wide for me, which is the exact opposite of the way things usually unfold between us. His nails sink into my back hard enough to sting.
