Revived (The Dungeon Black Duology 2)

Dick rock-hard, he tried to turn around, but Tad clearly didn’t want to give up his hold. His arms banded tighter around Scott’s chest. His tongue stroked Scott’s skin as he sucked. And then, without warning, he tugged them both backward, sprawling their bodies gracelessly against the stairs.

“Fuck, Tad,” Scott laughed, trying to twist around again, but Tad quickly caged him in with his legs, too. Calves and ankles locking snug around Scott’s thighs. Tad’s deep-seated wrestling skills surfacing fast.

Which, of course, only stoked Scott’s fire hotter. Thrumming with the need to shove inside his man, Scott clutched Tad’s shins and tried to pry them off. Something that proved much easier said than done. Didn’t help that Tad just dropped his hand and curled his fingers around Scott’s cock through his shorts. He stroked Scott roughly, fisting his shaft, keeping his grip super-snug.

Pleasure tore through Scott’s package. His body went wild. Screw Max’s playroom. And that device he wanted to try. He needed Tad right fucking now.

Hips rocking, aggression spiking, Scott gripped Tad’s shins and growled. Tad moaned excitedly and ground against Scott’s back. Oh, shit yeah. Scott’s dick reeled with urgency. He ditched Tad’s legs and grabbed Tad’s wrists, then forcefully threw them off. A heartbeat later, he was twisted around, neck free, legs still caged in Tad’s clutches.

Elated, ravenous eyes locked fast with his, as if Tad couldn’t’ve been happier that he’d escaped.

Scott grinned triumphantly. “Hope you’re ready for me, scrapper.” Not that he planned to wait for an answer. Instead, he claimed Tad’s mouth with a vengeance.

Tad moaned on contact and fisted his hair, locking his legs around Scott’s ass. “Fuck, yeah. I’ve been ready since you texted me at work.”

Scott chuckled and kissed him harder. Ground his boner against Tad’s fly. “I’m gonna fuck you on these stairs, Tad. You know this, right?”

Tad groaned against his mouth. Dropped his hands and clutched Scott’s ass. “You gonna kiss the rug burn on my back when we’re done?”

Scott shoved his hands between Tad’s body and the stairs, then tugged Tad’s shorts down his hips enough to count. “Babe, if you let me sink my dick inside you now, I’ll kiss you all night long wherever you want.”

THIRTY

“Seriously, Sean. Where in the fuck are you taking us?”

Sean’s lips curved a little. His eyes stayed locked on the road. “I already told you. To a favorite spot of mine.”

Max stared out the windshield, hating that Sean was driving and not him. Just one more thing he wasn’t in control of. Although, to be fair, Sean’s Beetle was pretty sweet.

Sean merged onto I-66 headed east.

“It looks like we’re going to D.C.,” Max muttered. “Please don’t tell me your favorite spot’s the Washington Monument.”

Sean laughed, but quickly quieted. “No. Geez. I’m not a dork.”

“Thank fucking God.”

Sean smiled and tilted his head. “It’s actually the Lincoln Memorial.”

Max stiffened, eyes widening. He stared at Sean aghast. “You’re favorite fucking place is the Lincoln Memorial? You’re taking me to a goddamn museum?”

Sean cracked up all over again. His head flew back and everything. “Kidding! My God, Max. When’d you get so easy? Relax. We’re not going to D.C.”

Max grunted and fooled with the radio.

Sean looked back at the road. “Although, I do really like that place,” he mumbled under his breath. “Huge-ass Abe all chilling out in that chair...”

A smile tugged at Max’s lips. He could feel Sean’s energy penetrating; past his skin, through his bones, casting warm light into his soul. Felt so fucking good. Calmed his head. Calmed his heart. Made him want to close his eyes. Let down his guard.

It also felt good because it challenged Max’s fears. Fears that he’d snuffed out Sean’s happy. Ever since last Monday, one week ago yesterday, Max hadn’t been able to get that out of his brain. The possibility that maybe he’d broken Sean irrevocably. Wrecked something in him that couldn’t be fixed.

But now Max could see that he hadn’t. Although, he was still pretty sure he’d left a mark. But he hadn’t done any damage that Sean couldn’t come back from. Which comforted Max, though it also made him feel like a tool. Pretty fucking arrogant of him to think he had that kind of influence. Max should’ve known better. Because Sean wasn’t like him. He was strong. Resilient. Wasn’t riddled with fractures. Had an infrastructure that wasn’t compromised. Wasn’t weak.

A few minutes passed. They merged again. Not long after, they took an exit, then a right. Lots of woods. Taller hills. Max recognized the area. They were somewhere in McLean. But before he could open his mouth to ask why, Sean turned onto a tiny dirt road. In the night’s pitch black, Max hadn’t even seen it, not amidst the myriad of endless trees. In his defense, though, no one would have—it’d been damn near hidden—unless, of course, they’d known that it was there.