Page 169 of Gemini Kings
I keep my tone light and teasing, even as I subtly maneuver him to one side so I can slip past him out the door. Don’t imagine for one moment that I don’t want to be alone with him, because I very muchdo.
But he and I, we’re dangerous together when we’re alone. Two alphas, designed by nature either to fight or to fuck.
We’re not supposed to fall in love.
God knows I’m more than vulnerable enough these days, loving Zara and Ronin and now Lucius to indecent and extremely public excess. They’re my weakness, and now all my enemies know it. Even the maddeningly elusive Mr. Mercury lingers far more in my mind than he should—
“Vasili.” Maxim scowls at my attempted evasion. His hot hands lock around my waist, burning through my lace cami. SuddenlyI’mthe one whose back is pressed against the door. “Do not be obtuse. The reason you smell like me is because you are drenched in my mating scent. It is because you sleep in my bed. It is because I have scented you and claimed you and held you while you slept. When I have also fucked you, there will be no part of you I have not claimed.”
Goosebumps race over my skin and every nerve in my body tingles with danger. I feel pursued and stalked and menaced—oh, deliciously so!
But one mustn’t get carried away.
Even if he is pumping out mating scent by the pint and the morning air reeks of musk and brimstone.
I’m taller than he is, and I use every centimeter to my advantage. I glare down the length of my imperious nose, tighten my grip on his sexy hips, and arch my signature eyebrow. “Ido the claiming and the fucking in this bed. That’s the way it’s going to be. Know your place,malchik.”
His face hardens with delicious intent. He leans in close until our mouths nearly touch. “My place is here with you, snake. My place is buried inside you so deep you no longer know where you end and I begin. My place is locked tight inside you and filling you with my seed until you beg me for mercy.”
Well, darling, what’s a boy supposed to do with a declaration likethat? My villainous heart is simply racing with the sexual thrill of danger.
And even though I want nothing at all to do with what he’s threatening, my own traitorous cock takes a perverse interest in the entire dreadful notion.
“Not going to happen,” I inform him haughtily (well, as haughtily as anyone can who’s simultaneously flirting and willing an erection to subside). “It’s really too bad for you, Maximka. You and that barbed dragon cock of yours had best resign yourself to disappointm—”
He snarls and smothers my rejection in a kiss.
I suppose Ididask for it, calling him that pet boyhood nickname that I know perfectly well he despises.
Perhaps I truly am being provocative.
His mouth slants over mine in ruthless demand, taking what he wants from me without asking, his hot tongue licking fearlessly over my horrible fangs and sweeping inside to ravage me. He tastes like hellfire and dragon and a bit like Zara, who flooded his mouth with mating scent when he buried his head between her thighs last night.
I moan and drag his hips against me, grinding his pelvis with mine. His cock juts electrically under Ronin’s sweats, sending delicious jolts of friction through mine with every thrust. I sink my nails into his bare back. He fists my hair to subdue me until my scalp tingles.
“You cannot lie to me,dushenka,” he mutters in Russian against my mouth. I swoon (in secret, of course) because now he’s calling mesweetheart. “Admit it. My kisses make you weak.”
Of course, if I’m being honest, this is precisely what I fear.
Above all else, I fear being seen as weak.
And that’s the very last thing I intend to admit.
“Your kisses make me nauseous.” I sneer horribly like the villain I am and push him off me.
Except that he doesn’t actually let me go, but instead pulls me with him through his kitschy apartment toward the bed. Together we reel blindly across the floor, our kisses a savage war for domination I have no intention of losing, our bodies locked in a writhing tangle, bumping into walls and furniture, knocking over a standing lamp with a crash, him peeling my cami over my head, me pushing his sweats down his hips so I can then wrap my hand around his complicated and dangerous cock and jack him the way we’re all learning to do, stimulating all his sensitive spots (because heisso deliciously sensitive) without impaling myself on his barbs.
He groans and shoves my PJs down my legs, nearly tripping me when I get tangled up in the fabric, then holding me up when I stumble. Of course, the real reason I stumble is because he’s pumping my shaft in his naughty fist.
A pulsing pleasure makes me gasp and writhe.
My hand snakes down to return the favor, but he bats me aside and fists both of us together, our cocks aligned, the fork of his dick scraping mine in a way that teases out of me a desperate whimper.
It’s the kind of noise that makes me tender and savage when Lucius makes it for me.
And it has exactly the same effect on Maxim, because of course he’s reacting to me as my alpha, even though I’ve by no means conceded to any such arrangement. His pumping fingers tease me to a throbbing fullness that makes me buck in his grip, even as he drenches us both with an absolute deluge of precum. My eyes fall closed and my head falls back, letting him mouth a scorching trail down my neck. He finds a sensitive spot above my collarbone and his lips seal tight in a sucking kiss.
He’s going to leave a mark.
