Page 99 of The Last Inch Of Ice
The feeling is overwhelming. Not just physical. Though it is that, the stretch and fullness and the way his body has to adjust to accommodate him. But something else. The weight of him. The solid presence.
He’s everywhere. His hands braced on either side of Kai’s head. His mouth on Kai’s neck, his jaw, his lips. His cock moving in brutal thrusts that make Kai’s entire nervous system light up.
He fucks Kai for what feels like hours. With a focused, reverent intensity that Kai has never experienced. Certainly not from Rykov, who’s always been all rough edges and barely controlled aggression.
This is different. Care hidden in physical act. And it terrifies Kai more than anything else ever has.
At some point—time has lost all meaning—Rykov leans down and whispers in his ear. “Always wanted to fuck you in my bed.”
Kai’s brain, still capable of sarcasm even when his body is completely overwhelmed, latches onto the statement.
“You’ve only had this apartment for like a year and a half,” he points out.
Rykov chuckles. “I transported the bed,” he says, completely serious. “From Vancouver. When I moved.”
“You transported your bed.” Kai can’t help it. A laugh bubbles up, an actual giggle that sounds foreign in his own ears. “You’re telling me you shipped a bed across the country because— And what? Hotel beds weren’t good enough for your dreams of fucking me?”
“Something like that.” Rykov kisses him, swallowing the laughter. “Worked, didn’t it?”
It did.
Towards morning, as gray light starts filtering through the windows and Kai’s body is sore in ways that feel almost good, familiar panic sets in.
This is too much. Too close. Too real.
They’ve crossed some line he can’t uncross. Changed the fundamental nature of whatever they are to each other. And Kai doesn’t know how to exist in this new territory.
“I have to go.” He tries to untangle himself from Rykov’s heavy limbs and from the sheets that smell like them both.
Rykov just holds him tighter. Not forceful, just firm. Inevitable.
He lifts his head, dark eyes serious in the morning light. “Vancouver,” he says. Not a question. A statement of fact. “Next Friday. We have a game there. You’ll be there too. I checked the schedule. And then Chicago.”
The implication is staggering. This is the start of something. An acknowledgment that there will be a next time. And a time after that.
A plan. A future.
Kai’s throat goes dry. He swallows hard, a nervous, jerky movement. The smart thing— the safe thing—would be to make a joke. To deflect. To say something cutting that pushes Rykov away and reestablishes the safe distance between them.
He doesn’t.
“Okay,” he whispers.
“Okay,” Rykov repeats, like he’s confirming he heard right. Like he can’t quite believe Kai agreed.
They lie there in the morning light, Kai’s head on Rykov’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. Steady. Reliable.
For the first time since Liam died, Kai thinks maybe he can survive this. Maybe the grief won’t destroy him. Maybe he’s not completely alone.
Maybe—and this is the most terrifying thought of all—maybe he doesn’t have to be.
30
Chapter 30 Kai
The meeting takes place in the conservatory. Kai has been summoned. Not asked. Not invited. Summoned, via a terse email from his father’s second assistant with a subject line that just said “Thursday 3pm”.
He considers not going. Considers a lot of things, actually. Faking food poisoning. Having his agent call with some manufactured crisis. Just not showing up and dealing with the consequences later.
