Just a Bit Ruthless (Straight Guys 6)

Luke’s eyes glazed over, his cock starting to harden again. “It’s just been so long since we did this.”

Roman pulled out slowly and pushed back in. “Good,” he said and set a steady rhythm, watching Luke’s expression turn dreamy and far away. “You didn’t let anyone touch you. Such a good boy.”

Luke smiled at the praise, his eyelids heavy as he moved to meet Roman’s thrusts. “Wanted only you. I missed y—this.”

The words jolted through his body. Roman knew this was a dangerous road to go down, but he didn’t know how to stop this train-wreck.

Scooping Luke into his arms, he rolled onto his back. “Ride me, kotyonok,” he said, hands running over Luke’s chest, tweaking the pink nipples.

Luke nodded eagerly, looking down at him through hooded eyes, his curls in disarray, his expression completely open and lovestruck. Roman stared back at him, hoping he didn’t have a similar look on his face. Shit, the way this boy affected him was ridiculous. He couldn’t drag his gaze away as Luke rode him languidly, his dark eyes becoming more unfocused as Roman murmured praises about how well he was doing, how perfect Luke felt around him, how perfect he was.

Before long, Luke seemed completely zoned out, just sitting on Roman’s cock and swaying dazedly. Jesus.

Roman sat up and, pulling Luke tightly to his chest, bucked his hips up, driving his aching cock hard inside the boy’s pliant body, causing Luke to moan against the side of Roman’s neck and cling to him.

It went on for a long while, with Roman fucking the boneless body in his arms. At some point, Luke groaned and sank his teeth into his neck, coming all over Roman’s chest and stomach, and Roman finally let go, his orgasm ripping through him with full-body shudders as he spilled inside Luke.

When his head cleared a little, Roman found that he had the boy cradled against his chest, his fingers carding through the moist curls. Luke was nuzzling into his collarbone, all but purring. He really was such a kitten.

“Why is it always so good with you?” Luke mumbled, still sounding half out of it. “Like, I feel like I’m in heaven when I give all control to you. It feels so, so good. Wanna feel this forever.”

Roman reminded himself that Luke didn’t know what he was saying: he was still riding high on the afterglow.

Luke sighed. “Dr. Benson’s wrong,” he muttered into Roman’s neck. “I totally have Stockholm syndrome. I need help.”

“Then what do I have?” Roman said. He regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth.

Luke lifted his head and looked at him unblinkingly, his plump lips forming an O.

Resisting the urge to avert his gaze, Roman wondered if the boy’s sentimental foolishness was contagious.

Luke bit his lip but failed to suppress his smile. “Well, I’ve been told I’m very likable,” he said, as if sharing a huge secret, a dimple appearing in his cheek.

Roman wanted to kiss it.

“This is not amusing,” he said tersely. “This is… an inconvenience.”

“Inconvenience,” Luke repeated, eyeing him curiously. “You mean your…attraction to me?”

Attraction. The word didn’t feel adequate. Roman nodded nevertheless. He saw little point in denying the attraction; it would be pointless, considering where his cock still was.

Luke pulled a funny face. “I’ll have you know this attraction to you is extremely inconvenient for me, too,” he said and looked at Roman expectantly—trustingly. “What are we going to do about it, then?”

Goddammit, was the boy even aware of the way he looked at him? Roman would like to say that Luke’s lovesick looks bothered him or amused him, but that would be a lie.

The truth was, he didn’t mind.

The truth was, he fucking liked it.

He liked it.

The truth was, he wanted his boy to keep looking at him that way—his boy. Jesus Christ. His own possessiveness made him cringe.

“You used to make me really nervous when you got this look on your face,” Luke said amicably.

Roman slid his hands down the graceful curve of Luke’s back and settled them on his cheeks. “Are you saying I don’t make you nervous anymore?” Few people in the world could claim such a thing.

Luke smiled crookedly. “You do. Just in a different way.” He seemed to hesitate before admitting, embarrassment coloring his voice, “You aren’t blind. It would be pretty pointless to deny I get off on pleasing you. I get anxious if I don’t.” Luke rubbed a hand behind his neck. “It’s pretty inconvenient. Can’t wait to get cured of this.”

“Cured,” Roman repeated.

“Of my Stockholm syndrome,” Luke clarified serenely.

Roman felt a hot, irrational spike of displeasure. “Good luck with that,” he said, lifting Luke and depositing him on the bed before getting to his feet. He reached for his boxers on the floor and slipped into them.

“You’re leaving already?”

Roman looked back.