Just a Bit Ruthless (Straight Guys 6)
Luke’s Adam’s apple moved. Biting his lip, he shook his head.
“No?” Roman said, amused despite himself.
A dimple appearing in his cheek, the boy shook his head again, his curls framing his heart-shaped face like a halo. It wasn’t endearing. At all.
More than a little annoyed, Roman dug the fingers of his free hand into Luke’s hip. Luke inhaled shakily, his pupils blowing wide.
“For a fairy boy who dreams of nice men and sappy romance, you sure like it rough,” Roman said.
Luke flushed. “For a homophobic man, you sure like groping me. Are you sure you aren’t a ‘fairy’ too?”
When he was touching this boy, he wasn’t sure of a damn thing.
Roman said mildly, “Is that supposed to offend me? Besides, if I let you suck my dick a few times, it doesn’t mean I’m into men. You have blowjob lips. That’s all.”
Something shattered in Luke’s expression, the look in his eyes becoming fragile and hurt. Unease curled low in Roman’s stomach. It only made him angrier. For fuck’s sake. He never cared about hurting people, much less about hurting people’s feelings.
“Okay,” Luke said, averting his gaze. “Fair enough. I’ve been told that before.”
Roman’s lips thinned.
“Let go, please,” Luke said softly, still not looking at him. “I get it: I’m nothing but a pawn for you, and I shouldn’t expect to be treated like a person. I got it. I get it—”
Roman grabbed his head and kissed him, pouring his anger into the greedy kiss.
Damn you. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Yes, he had fully intended to fuck with Luke’s mind, make him dependent on him and need him. He’d already half-conditioned the boy to want Roman’s attention, his kisses and his cock. He had fully intended to kiss the boy at some point after his return—days later—after making Luke wonder and second-guess himself.
He wasn’t supposed to be licking the boy’s mouth with his tongue as soon as he returned. He wasn’t supposed to think of Luke’s mouth and skin during business meetings. And he sure as hell wasn’t supposed to rush back from the airport like a hormonal teenager, impatient to get his hands on the boy.
Luke was rigid for exactly four seconds before going deliciously pliant against his chest and starting to suck on Roman’s tongue with muffled moans that went straight to Roman’s cock. Luke’s responsiveness was beyond arousing, washing all his reservations away and making him greedy and hungry. He wanted to fucking destroy this ridiculous boy, with his irritating dimples and ridiculous lips, with his soft smiles and soft voice, with his silly, sappy dreams. He wanted to wreck him, take him apart, and put a collar on him with Roman’s—
Breathing hard, Roman wrenched his mouth away, dropping Luke back on the bed.
What the fuck.
He took a few deep breaths before finally looking at Luke. He lay, panting, on Roman’s bed, his lips wet and swollen, his eyes glossy with desire, his cock tenting the fabric of his shirt. The latter should have been a turn-off, but it had the opposite effect.
I want to fuck him.
The strength of that desire was startling. He’d told Luke the truth: although he didn’t consider himself a raging homophobe, Roman could never before understand the appeal of fucking men. Hairy, flat chests simply held no appeal to him. Even fucking a man’s mouth was one thing—a wet mouth really was just a wet mouth—but engaging in anal sex with a man was a different matter entirely. He’d never thought he would want it.
And yet, as he looked down at the young man sprawled out in his bed, flushed, beautiful and aroused, all Roman wanted was to climb on top of him, push his legs apart, shove his cock inside him, and fuck him for hours. For days.
He didn’t know what was written on his face, but Luke let out a laugh that sounded more like a groan. “No way. Forget about it,” he said hoarsely, his eyes dark and bottomless. “I’m done letting straight assholes fuck me over.”
Roman retrieved a bottle of lube and condoms from the bedside drawer. He tossed the bottle to Luke. “You know what to do.”
The boy opened and closed his mouth before glaring at him. His glares were about as effective as a kitten’s. He was lovely. Roman wanted to stick his cock in his every hole.
“I don’t want this,” Luke whispered. “If you want it, you’ll have to force me.”
Roman thumbed open the button of his fly. “I’m not in the mood to play that game tonight.” His gaze roamed over Luke’s smooth legs, his cock aching as he imagined them wrapped around his waist. “Let’s drop the bullshit, shall we? I want to fuck you. You want me to fuck you, even though I’m not the nice man you want to have babies with.” He sneered at that, his irritation spiking. “Prep yourself,” he said. He could do it himself, but the less he touched the boy, the better. Touching him was fucking addictive, and nicotine was the only addiction he allowed himself.