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He shuddered hard in my arms, then lost control of his body and shoved his face into my neck. He inhaled, then exhaled hot breath over my collarbone, which was so, so goddamn intense right then. I wassoturned on.
“I know this can’t—that we can’tbeanything,” he said, pulling back. His hands moved, and when he moved them up high on my ribs to where I could feel the pressure, I realized he was going for my tender, sensitive spots. “I don’t have expectations.”
Those words hurt. He should have them. He should expect the world to treat him the way he deserved to be treated. But he was also right. If I was just another man—just some random person hired to consult on set—maybe this could work.
But I wasn’t. I never would be. And it didn’t matter what the press said about me. If they got a hold of this, they would ruin him, and Aleric’s life had been hard enough as it was. I couldn’t add to that.
“We can have this for now,” I told him. It was the only promise I could make. “Would you like me to show you how to make me feel good?”
His pupils dilated, and he dragged his lower lip between his teeth, nodding. “Mm.”
I hooked a knuckle under his chin and held his gaze firmly. “Then pay attention. Be good…and get on your knees.”
There was a pause—three beats of my heart—and then Aleric pulled away.
And obeyed.
Twelve
ALERIC
At Camillo’s command,it was almost as though I’d left my body. It moved without conscious thought, and I wasn’t even really aware of it until my knees hit the floor with a painful thud. I was too old and my body too battered to be so harsh with it, but the pain was an afterthought the moment I looked into his eyes.
He was hungry. And not for food or drink or a random person.
His hands trembled just a little as he used them to push his legs to the floor and spread his thighs, and then he drew me between them. His jaw ticked as he stared at me.
“It won’t be like anyone you’ve ever fucked,” he murmured as he traced a touch around the shell of my ear. “You’ll need to know this when Raul touches you.”
He didn’t fumble over the character name the way he might have if they’d used the monster’s real one. I was grateful that Camillo had allowed the story to be changed, but there was an ache in my chest because even altered, I knew this whole thing had to hurt him.
I wanted to find Hugo and make him pay.
I pinned that thought though. That bastard wasn’t welcome here. I had no idea how long I could keep this, and I wasn’tgoing to waste a second of it thinking of a man who had no right to breathe the same air as Camillo did.
“You know the basic mechanics. You know where I can and can’t feel.”
Feeling emboldened, I reached out and pressed my hand to his sternum, dragging it down with heavy pressure. I didn’t know the exact spot where his feeling ended, so I watched him—watched for the subtle shift because, in his own words, he’d explained that the line where his spine had broken was the most sensitive.
Half an inch above his belly button, he sucked in a breath.
There. It was there.
I met his gaze, and he gave a stiff nod before closing his hand around mine. “Yes. Don’t stop.” He dug his nails into the back of my hand—not enough to hurt, but enough to remind me that he was in charge.
And my whole body went burning hot with desire. My cock was thick in my jeans, aching for release, throbbing and wet against the inside of my briefs. I rocked my hips, and Camillo’s mouth twitched at the corners, though he didn’t call me out on it.
Yet.
“Unbutton my shirt.”
My fingers fumbled the first couple, but after a deep breath, I was steady. One by one, I popped them through the little holes. His shirt was soft, silky, definitely some sort of designer. Probably worth more than a month’s rent. It was hard to be bitter about a man who wore it so fucking well.
Mostly because this man would give this shirt to someone on the street if they needed it. This man was someone who might have seen me back then and known something wasn’t right. He was someone who would have reached for me.
Who would have saved me.
“Aleric.”