Royce ran his palms up Marc’s thighs and around to grasp his ass, using his cheeks as leverage to move Marc deeper into his mouth and throat. Royce sucked in his cheeks and ran his tongue around him, his strong pulls making Marc lose his mind.
All he felt was pleasure and heat. All he saw were swirls of dark, writhing colors behind his eyelids. He gripped Royce’s hair and shuddered at the grunt of approval he got in return.
“So fucking sexy,” he breathed. “Fuck, Royce!”
Royce brought one hand around to cup his balls and run his fingers over the thin, sensitive skin behind them. Marc couldn’t stop his hips from moving, his fingers from tightening.
“Yeah,” Royce breathed around his shaft before sucking it deep again.
Marc yelled as his knees buckled.
But Royce didn’t let him fall. He braced his strong fucking hands on Marc’s hips and pressed him into the door hard, his fingers digging in. That bit of pain…that possession…that did it. Marc cried out again as he emptied into Royce’s throat. The surge of pleasure was so intense, he felt it race up his spine, buzz in his molars, and spin behind his eyes. He held on and rode it out, and even when he jerked at the last of it, and moaned long and loud, Royce didn’t let go of his hips—holding him to the door with a heady power.
“Don’t move,” he growled as he stood and pressed one hand to Marc’s chest.
Marc opened his eyes, gaze locked with Royce’s, those hazel eyes more gold than green right then. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Royce opening his jeans with one hand, then slowly stroking his cock.
They didn’t look away from each other, and Royce never moved the hand pressing firmly to his chest. Not even when Royce’s eyes slid to half-mast and he grunted and shot all over Marc’s thighs.
Something moved inside Marc then. Something he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. He stared at Royce as he gathered himself and stepped back. He zipped and buttoned his jeans, and only then did those eyes break away from his as he looked down, a small smirk appearing as if he admired his handiwork. Marc could only imagine what he looked like. Completely fucked out, barely able to move…his thighs slick and wet. He’d been marked, and he liked it.
“Think your sister stayed for the audio show? Because you put on one hell of a one.” Royce placed his palms on either side of Marc’s head, and because he’d slouched against the door, their faces were level as he came in close.
“She left before the good parts.”
“Good.” Royce pressed a hard kiss to his lips. “Because that’s for us and us alone.”
His words sent a swirling mass of feelings surging through Marc’s chest, and he pressed a hand there. Dark, hazel eyes flicked there, then back to Marc’s.
“We need to talk.”
Marc nodded. “Let me clean up.”
“I’ll help. It’s my mess after all.”
They walked into Marc’s bathroom, and he opened the cabinet for a towel while Royce turned on the water and held out his hand. He handed the cloth to him, then stripped out of his jeans, fingering the damp areas.
Royce pulled them out of his hands, then surprised him by picking him up and setting him on the counter. Startled, Marc slapped his palms on the granite, then nearly swallowed his tongue when Royce started stroking the hot, wet towel over his thighs and in between.
“Oh fuck,” Marc breathed. “You’re going to make me hard again.”
The low, husky chuckle didn’t help, and neither did the way Royce’s eyes ate up his body as he washed him. God, he could nearly feel the admiration pouring out of the man.
“Royce,” he said quietly, then waited until he looked up. “Tell me what happened today.”
When he suddenly closed his eyes, Marc knew he wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear.
“Today, I met with my uncle.” He looked at Marc again. “He’s an evil man, Marc. A powerful man. I hadn’t seen him since I was twelve years old. When my father and younger brother were killed.”
He couldn’t stop himself from pulling Royce closer, spreading his legs to make room. “I know that loss. I’m so sorry you had it, too.”
Royce nodded, dropped the towel in the sink, and placed his warm palms on Marc’s now chilled thighs. “He’s got my mother.”
Marc froze. “That sounds really bad.”
“He’s threatening to kill her if I don’t get something for him. He feels I owe him a lot of money for not being a part of the family all these years. For not working as his enforcer.” He stopped talking and held his breath as he watched Marc’s face.
The word “family” sunk into his stomach like a heavy stone. It was followed by “enforcer.” He made the connection so fast, his head spun. He’d heard of the infamous Karras crime family, but he’d never connected Royce to it. Didn’t think it was possible that someone as brilliant, compassionate, and sexy as Royce could be linked to such evil. “You’re from New York, aren’t you?”