Just a Bit Ruthless (Straight Guys 6)

Luke swallowed the bile rising to his throat. He’d known his father wasn’t a saint, but this…this was something else. There was knowing, and then there was knowing.

The assessing stare Roman pinned him with was unsettling. “What will you do when you inherit your father’s business and everything it entails? Are you going to follow in his footsteps?”

Luke caught his lip between his teeth. “I tried not to think too much about it, to be honest.” He chuckled at his own naivety. “But now…I don’t think I can do what he does, what you do. I’m not—I’m not a saint or anything, I understand that sometimes you must be ruthless to succeed, but I have limits.” He gave a crooked smile. “I’m not cut out for the life of a criminal mastermind. I’ll make sure the company is successful by legal means. I have a pretty good head for business. Maybe Whitford Industries won’t be as profitable as before, but I’m not greedy.”

“As profitable as before,” Roman said flatly. “You do realize what kind of money you’re talking about?”

Luke grinned. “An outrageous amount I’d never be able to spend? I told you: I’m not greedy. Being a millionaire is enough for me. I don’t want to constantly look over my shoulder, expecting a knife in the back. I want to live a full life, be happy, and do the things I want to do.”

A derisive smile twisted Roman’s lips. “Yes, you want to marry a nice man and adopt two-point-five babies.”

Luke smiled. He refused to be ashamed of it. “Nope, at least four babies. I have lots of love to give. And I prefer surrogacy to adoption, though I’m open to adopting.”

Roman stared at him with an odd expression on his face.

“Will I be invited to the wedding?” he said at last, his blue eyes as unreadable as ever.

A funny feeling settled in the pit of Luke’s stomach. In his fantasies, he had imagined his wedding to be a bright, fairy-tale-like event, a faceless, amazing man by his side as they said their vows, absolutely in love with each other. Having Roman somewhere in that bright, happy fantasy was incredibly jarring for some reason.

“Hmm,” Luke said. “That would be a bit awkward, don’t you think? Usually people don’t invite their…” He hesitated, flustered. What, exactly, was Roman to him, again? “…men they have slept with in the past to their wedding.”

“Men they have slept with in the past,” Roman repeated, amusement flashing through his face again. His hand settled on Luke’s lower back, its weight already familiar. “Are you saying you wouldn’t spread your legs for me on your wedding day?”

Luke spluttered. “Of course I wouldn’t! Who do you take me for?”

Roman’s fingers slipped lower and touched Luke’s slick, loosened hole. Luke fought the urge to squirm. He was still tender and sensitive after the sex. He glared at Roman.

Roman had the nerve to smile. “You sure you wouldn’t?” he said in a conversational tone, massaging Luke’s hole and teasing the oversensitive rim by slipping the tip of his finger in and out. “You would be all dolled up and pretty, maybe even wearing a white suit,” Roman said, teasing his quivering entrance. “Your nice man will be waiting for you at the altar.” He pushed the finger deeper, stretching him deliciously. God.

“But you’ll be late,” Roman said, pushing the finger in and out but avoiding Luke’s prostate. “You’ll be late because you’ll be too busy moaning under me.”

“No,” Luke ground out, painfully hard despite coming twenty minutes ago. The mere idea of Roman fucking him while the man Luke loved waited for him was filthy, wrong and— “No,” he said shakily, his voice cracking as Roman added another finger.

“Yes.” Roman crooked his fingers a little. Luke shuddered, a moan slipping from his lips. “Yes, just like that. You’re a slut for me and always will be.”

“No—”

“Yes, you are,” Roman said, voice clipped. He pushed his fingers against Luke’s prostate, again and again. “Your nice guy will be waiting for you at the altar while you’re stuffed with my cock, begging me to fuck you harder. Eventually, he’ll come looking for you and he’ll find out what a dirty little whore you are.”

Luke groaned and bit Roman’s pec. He latched onto the tiny, hard nipple and sucked greedily as his ass clenched around Roman’s merciless fingers. He felt close to sobbing already, his hole sensitive and overstimulated after hours of sex, and now this…God. He moved back onto the fingers, wanting them deeper, but Roman tightened his grip in his curls, not letting him move.

“And you know the best part, kitten?” Roman said hoarsely, fucking him with three fingers now. “Even with your fiancé watching, you won’t be able to stop begging me for my cock. You’ll come, clinging to me and moaning my name.” He slammed his fingers against Luke’s prostate and Luke saw stars. He whimpered and came, his hole clenching around Roman’s fingers.