“S-sorry,” he muttered to Zane, but still turned to Roach with a sharp gaze. “You hurt him, and I will call the police!”
Roach shoved him farther away, too preoccupied with his aching heart to have time for this kind of shit. “Get the fuck out of here!”
Zane walked back inside without a word and Roach followed his lead, locking the door behind him. He could now smell unfamiliar cologne in the air, and that made him want to uncover all windows and open them wide, so the stench that didn’t belong here would be gone for good.
Roach followed Zane like a shark speeding to its prey and grabbed his arm, furious that even now Zane was sexy to him, not revolting. “What the fuck? Where did your terrible worry about STDs go? Or does that only apply to dirtbag me?”
Zane’s jaw was completely stiff, and he looked away, breathing through his nose. The fresh wound on his lip was already swollen and made it larger than usual. “Let go,” he said but made no attempt to fight off the grip.
“Why? So you can go slutting around elsewhere? Not a fucking chance!” Roach’s body was one big ache, with the three burned spots like volcanos bleeding out his fury.
Zane’s nostrils flared when he finally looked up, eyes shooting daggers. “Maybe I wanted to ride a dick once in a while, huh? It’s none of your business!”
Roach couldn’t believe his audacity. “Until we’re unbonded, I’m the only one you’ll be fucking,” he spat. “You wanna ride a dick? Mine is all yours!” He pulled the slim hand to his crotch and wouldn’t let it go even when Zane stiffened, his palm flat like a plank against Roach’s groin.
But then he stared back, eyes wild, and shoved Roach onto the bed. “So that’s how it is? You think you’re gonna be a top now?” he whispered, pushing his pants down to reveal his nakedness in all its glory.
Roach got too distracted for words. God, how he’d missed Zane’s body. He craved his attention like nothing else in the world.
He raised himself on his elbows, not sure what they were doing right now. “I never said I was a bottom! You just never gave me the chance!” To be fair, he’d never topped a man. But after weeks with Zane, he knew what went where and how. He wasn’t certain when they went from not being together anymore to… whatever was going on now.
Yet he wouldn’t refuse Zane. He wouldn’t refuse him anything. Not when his hair fell so beautifully down his chest, like the snakes on Medusa’s head. He might end up bitten, or frozen in stone for all eternity, but he found himself unable to stop watching.
Zane huffed and grabbed his dick, squeezing it gently as he looked down at Roach. “What are you waiting for? Take everything off.”
Roach sucked on his swelling lip. He shouldn’t have burned it. Just like he shouldn’t be taking off his jacket, throwing his T-shirt and sweater to the floor, or shoving off his boots. He’d regret it all soon, but the temptation was too strong. Zane really was his addiction.
“But you said… you want me to top, right?” he asked, catching his finger in the zip when he stared at the cockhead in Zane’s fist for too long.
Zane exhaled, pacing around the bed like a fae undecided whether he wanted to cut out a human’s guts or fuck him. “You’ll stay still, and I’m gonna ride you. Is that clear?”
Roach squinted. “That’s… weird.” Yet his boxers landed next to his jeans, and he sat on the bed naked, desperate to touch Zane.
“Is it? You’re such an expert on gay sex now?” Zane asked, agitated as if he were about to cut Roach’s throat, not take his cock. The storm in his eyes was near, but Roach was ready to have it unleashed on him.
He’d stand naked in fist-sized hail if that was what it took to have Zane. But it didn’t make the cold punches hurt any less. Zane was set on putting him down even when Roach topped.
Roach looked away. “Okay. If that’s how you like it,” he mumbled. Zane hardly kept his hands off when Roach milked his dick. But their relationship had never been equal or fair.
Zane walked up to the bedside table and pulled out a bottle of lube, then placed one foot on the bed and reached back with one slicked-up hand. He was so to the point about this, as if it were basic hygiene, not something to bring them both pleasure. Still, when Zane’s lashes fluttered, and he lowered his head, touching his own ass, Roach couldn’t deny the way the sight affected him.
“You like that a lot?” He couldn’t keep himself from asking, already breathless. He wanted to be the one sliding his fingers into Zane, making him flush and moan with slow, deliberate preparation. His dick was throbbing with need to get inside Zane, and Roach couldn’t believe this was happening right after the cheating attempt, after the fight, after the burns. He was a sick man, unable to think straight, but his relationship with Zane was like a fast ride on a motorcycle. Even when it rained, when thunder rumbled in the sky and the asphalt was slick with mud, Roach would add more speed, screaming as the tension in his body released.