Chapter 3

But for now…

“There,” Eli breathed, pushing Rob back into the pillows, straddling his waist with fluid ease. “Stay. I didn’t get to see a thing last night—you were too busy shoving me into alley walls and fucking me raw—”

Rob’s chest tensed and pushed against his arms; Eli gave a little shove to make his point, and carried on blithely.

“—and last night and all the lager, that was good for a seedy fuck, but this morning…God, I woke up and you looked like a fucking god, like something completely out of this world, so you—”

He shifted up on his hips and wrapped a hand around Rob’s cock beneath him. This was going to sting. Loose was loose, but Eli’s plan required something a little more involved. And Rob was going to kill him. Later.

“—are going to lie there and let a mere mortal worship you.”

In one motion, Eli pressed down onto Rob’s cock. It wasn’t graceful; it wasn’t even seamless. The stretch burned, the edge of pain distinct, and Rob’s hiss and jerk didn’t help, his hands suddenly like vices on Eli’s thighs and his head thrown back in an arch of muscle and sinew. His sheathed cock was slick, but Eli was not, and even the vague catch hurt. The ache from the previous night exploded anew—and yet it was also ecstasy, the sensation of being completely filled, of taking Rob so deep Eli felt as though he’d been seized by the back of the neck and was being held in a choking, possessing grip.

“Oh my God,” he groaned, his little speech forgotten. “Oh fuck. Rob, fuck…”

Rob’s hands cupped his hips. Eli took deep lungfuls of cool air before opening his eyes—and when had he closed those?—and taking in the messy hair, piercing gaze, and heaving chest. His thighs were clamped around Rob’s waist, and Eli watched in near-distant fascination as he tensed them and felt rather than saw Rob’s grunt of too-close, too-intense satisfaction.

“You feel amazing,” Eli blurted out, and rolled his hips. The slick slide of the condom was unpleasant, but the heavy push of Rob’s cock as Eli sank back down onto it again was dizzying and quite literally breathtaking. “Fuck, Rob, I could fuck you every day and it wouldn’t be enough. I want to feel you proper, I want those fucking test results, I want you to hold me down and just fuck me open with nothing between, I want—”

Rob moved so fast it was a blur—his arm was suddenly tight around Eli’s back, the room was spinning, and then Eli hit the mattress. Rob drove into him so hard Eli saw stars. He yelled, digging his nails into Rob’s shoulders like claws, arching under the thrust until it felt like he could take Rob to the root, until the headboard smashed against the wall with deafening force, until—

Someone shouted downstairs. Rob’s grin was feral in Eli’s neck before he bit down. The mattress was shaking with the force of those powerful, painful, driving thrusts.

Eli didn’t give a fuck.

* * * *

Rob was already dressed when Eli snuck back in from the shower. Sitting on the edge of Eli’s bed, he was shrugging into the T-shirt he’d worn to the pub the previous night, probably still stinking of beer and barbecue chicken wings.

“You could start leaving clothes here, you know,” Eli chided, kissing the top of his head before rummaging for his own clothes.

Rob’s answer was to resoundly smack his arse. The blow stung, and Eli bit his lip against the jolt of red-hot pleasure.

“Hey!”

Rob rolled his eyes and leaned back on his hands. He openly watched Eli dress, the scrutiny both a little embarrassing, and a lot arousing.

“That’s not fair,” Eli grumbled. “You can fucking turn me on by looking at me, and I can’t even walk straight.”

Rob offered him a toothy grin.

Eli huffed.

“Mean,” he whispered, bending to kiss the smile away.

“Eli!” a voice bellowed up the stairs. “I want that—vehicle moved!”

Eli rolled his eyes.Rob guffawed. “Fucking coppers,” he rasped.

Rob had a very deep, very hoarse voice, like the rumble of a gravelly engine, and it drove Eli crazy. If Rob was a voice actor, Eli wouldn’t be able to watch any of his films for fear of having a fucking orgasm in the cinema. As it was, he seized Rob’s face and kissed him hungrily, tugging Rob’s bottom lip between his teeth in a vicious bite until the tang of blood warned him off.

“I suppose you have to go?” he whispered.

“Uh-huh,” Rob said, both hands clasping the very tops and backs of Eli’s thighs, right under his arse. It was oddly more intimate than if Rob had just groped a cheek and been done with it. “Shit to do.”

“See you later? Or tomorrow maybe?”

“Eli!”

“Tell him to fuck off,” Rob grumbled, and stood.