Page 12 of Confession (Constantine Brothers #2)

But Quinn is struggling to focus as I lightly stroke him. If I weren’t gripping his jaw, he would pitch forward. His pupils are blown, his eyelids half closed.

“I don’t want to get confused,” he manages.

“I’ll help you understand.”

“Vitali—”

“ Quinn . Tell me what you like.”

“I think you know.”

“This.” I move my hand to his throat and squeeze.

His eyelashes flutter. “This.” I squeeze his dick again, and he shudders.

“And this .” I move fast, switching my grip to yank him up and spin him, shoving his head down and hauling his ass against me.

I groan in relief at the pressure against my cock.

“I need you to give me a safe word,” I tell him, holding him in place as he trembles. He doesn’t answer me. “ Quinn .”

“I don’t want one.”

“I don’t care. Red?”

“Fine.”

I don’t like his tone, so I haul him upright. That clearly pisses him off. He turns and shoves me.

He goes stalking off. His fists are clenched. His cock is hard. He wants me to chase him and force him. I can tell, I can see it. But he doesn’t get that until I know we’re clear.

I start unbuttoning my shirt. “Accept it,” I tell him.

“I already did.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Fuck you.”

Mmm, he’s spicy now. I love this. I take off my shirt and drape it over the back of the couch. Quinn continues pacing around while I take off my shoes.

“I don’t know why you think I need a safe word. I’m not a fucking pussy.”

Anger lashes through me. “Don’t talk like that.”

He exhales loudly through his nose and keeps pacing. He’s really starting to trigger my temper now, which has my dick throbbing, but I take my time undressing. I drape my pants over the back of the couch.

“You’re gonna have to comply,” I tell him as I shuck off my underwear.

“I fucking did! Jesus Christ, what do you want from me?”

“I want to see that you understand.” I walk over to his bed and pull down the covers. Then I open the drawer of his bedside table.

He hurries over to me. “You can’t just—”

I intercept him as he tries to shove past me. When I grab him, he instantly goes into fight mode. He gets his hand on my wrist, but I twist out of it and wrestle him down onto the bed, pinning him with my body.

I’m breathing hard against the back of his neck as I explain, “I need to know that you’ll use it.”

“I won’t ,” he argues. “I don’t want you to stop. That’s the point .”

I lift him up slightly so I can shove my hand under him and grip his cock through his sweats. He cries out and turns his face into the mattress.

“If I know you have a safe word, I know I don’t have to stop. That is the point.”

It takes a minute, but I feel it when he gives in. I feel him accept it. So I believe him when he finally says, “Okay.”

I reward him by stroking his dick. “Good. When were you last tested?”

“I’m clean.”

That was quite an immediate reply. “Has it been a while?” I ask, curious.

He grunts, not willing to answer that. I keep rubbing him.

“Then I’m sure that drawer contains exactly what I was expecting.” I lift myself off him, sitting on the bed. “Pick a toy.”

He pushes up from the mattress and glares at me. “Don’t go through my things.”

“You hardly even have anything in here.”

“I mean it, Vitali, don’t .”

“I love when you say my name. Fine, fine,” I concede. “You get this one.”

“It should have been a given,” he grumbles.

“Pick a fucking toy, Quinn, I need inside you.” I start stroking my cock.

“Then what do we need a toy for?” he asks, watching me stroke myself.

“It’s been a while for you.”

“So?”

“ So , Quinn. You’ve sucked this thing.”

“Uh-huh,” he replies distractedly, eyes locked on my dick.

“And you can see this thing.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Then you know I’d better open you up before I start fucking you with it.”

A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as his attention gathers. “You’ve been researching.”

“The internet is an amazing place.”

When he grins, clearly delighted by the idea of me researching gay sex, he’s too goddamn beautiful for me to be annoyed that he’s amused at my expense. In fact, it makes me smile back a little.

“If you don’t want me rummaging around in your drawer of toys, pick one for fuck’s sake. You have five seconds. And I’m clean too, by the way, since you didn’t ask.”

“You distracted me,” he complains but pushes to his feet. He digs around in the drawer that I opened. He sets out a bottle of lube then snags a cloth bag. He extracts a black beaded silicone rod with a handle and tosses it on the bed.

I pick it up. Interesting. The beads get progressively larger toward the base. The last few are pretty damn big.

“I would love to watch you play with this.”

“Hell no.”

“We’ll see.”

“Vitali.” He glares at me.

I set the toy aside and stand from the bed. “Take off your pants, Quinn.”

He doesn’t comply. He’s frustrated with my bossiness and feeling stubborn.

I have kind of been steamrollering him. But he likes it, even if he kind of hates it too.

It gives him something to fight, and that’s what he needs.

That’s what so much of this is about. He needs me to dominate him, but he needs it to be real dominance. He’s not going to simply give it to me.

Like I said, he’s perfect for me. And he’s been right in front of me all this time.

I step close and hook my fingers into his waistband. I drag it down slowly, revealing his lower abdomen inch by inch and pulling down his stiff cock. He’s trimmed but not totally stripped of hair like I am. I like it.

I’m sure the sense of novelty will wear off eventually, but it’s very strong right now. I’m highly, highly aware of how very male his body is. Especially as the waistband drags along the stiff, veiny length of his cock.

He’s breathing hard, making all kinds of delicious little sounds. My own dick is twitching and leaking, desperate for contact, but I deny it. Right now, all I want to focus on is every new inch of Quinn’s cock. He’s cut like me, big, straight. He’s so damn hard.

When I get to his flared tip, he cries out at the abrasion. His stomach contracts, pulling his dick free of the waistband and making it slap up against his belly.

I shove his pants down the rest of the way and push him onto the bed.

His feet are tangled in the sweats so he mostly falls.

I use the moment of him disentangling himself to grab the lube and get myself behind him.

I pump some lube onto my fingers. By then, he’s starting to think about fighting me because he’s very annoyed, so I smash his face onto the bed, shove his legs apart, and start massaging his hole.

He jerks, startled. “Fuck!”

“You’re fine.”

“You’re a dick.”

“You already knew that.”

He huffs.

I ignore his bad attitude because I want to focus on his ass.

Again, maybe it’s the novelty, but I fucking love this.

My god, the shape of him. All that work on the leg press plus all his hip thrusts and squats have given his legs and ass the most irresistibly firm curves.

And something about parting his cheeks like this to massage that tight, puckered hole has my dick dripping.

A lot of my arousal comes from the fact that I do genuinely like his body, but some of it comes from the fact that I love that this is Quinn.

I love that I’m getting to touch him like this. I push my finger inside him.

His moan has me closing my eyes and pushing deeper. I stroke inside him, exploring, testing, hunting.

“Fuck!” he barks, body jerking when I find it. His hands fist on the sheet. I stroke again to to make sure I get it. He spasms.

“Mmm,” I hum, pulling my finger free. “I like that.”

He starts to lift up, so I smash his head down again. I snatch up the toy and lube it, working quickly before I lose Quinn’s compliance.

Pinning his head down, I set the toy to his hole and push in the first few beads. When he cries out, I slow down and watch, fascinated, as his hole stretches to take each new bead. I drag it back out before reaching the final beads, then I push it in again. His moan is deliciously filthy.

“You’re making me leak so bad,” I tell him, my voice rasping.

He fights against my hand to look back. I let him, but his eyes slam shut as I force the last beads into him. Leaving the toy inside him, I grab hold of his body and flip him onto his back. It startles him and he starts fighting me as I wrestle him down.

“Take it easy,” I tell him as he strains and shudders. Every movement he makes must have the toy rubbing inside him. “I just need to look at you.”

Quinn scowls, not liking that.

“I know,” I chuckle. “You hate being the center of attention, but you’re gonna have to get used to it.”

He’s breathing hard but doesn’t say anything—until I wrap my slick hand around his cock.

“Fuck!” He arches up, which shifts the toy inside him. God, the thought of that turns me on, as does the feel of his bare cock in my hand. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever touched. And the way he moans … I love it.

I release his cock to push his legs up and pull the toy from his ass. By the time I get my cock lubed, Quinn has figured out that I intend to fuck him like this, face to face—and he does not like that.

I move fast, but I still have to wrestle him down. My temper is flaring by the time I get my cock lined up with his hole.

“Vitali, that’s not what I—fuck! Fuck!”

I force my way into him. He’s still tight despite the prep because he’s fighting me, so I grab his throat. He lets out a strangled cry, but he starts to relax and open.

I’m trembling by the time my pelvis hits his ass. The sensation is intense , and the thrill of dominating his powerful body has my blood pumping.

I keep my hand on his throat as I start to fuck him. I watch his cock, stiff and flushed, leaking against his tight, muscled abdomen. I wish I had more hands so I could touch him, but all I can do is watch as I thrust hard into his ass.

I lift my eyes to his face. He’s so angry with me—and I think he loves that he’s angry with me. His teeth are gritted and he’s panting against the constriction at his throat. A tear leaks from the corner of his eye. When I release his throat to brush it away, he fucking loses it.

This is why I needed his compliance on the safe word. I knew, I fucking knew , we were going here. I knew I would trigger him, and I knew he would trigger me.

He shouts and knocks my hand away. He twists and writhes under me as I try to wrestle him down.

When I pull out of him, he gets worse. My temper is flaring hot, and I get rough and forceful as I flip him onto his stomach.

I yank his hips up and shove my cock back into him, furious that he’s getting his way.

This is what he wanted, for me to fuck him like this. I smash his head down and force his legs wider so I can I rut him deeper.

“Is that what you want?” I demand. “Me fucking you into the bed like a whore? Answer me!” I pull out of him abruptly and slap his ass.

He cries out but doesn’t answer. I reach between his legs and grab his stiff cock, pulling backwards. He pulses and leaks in my hand. I squeeze him hard and let go. His cock swings forward to smack his belly.

“What do you want?” I demand, slapping him again. “Tell me!”

“Fuck me! God, just fuck me!”

With a roar of frustration and pure, unbridled lust, I shove back into him. I wrap one arm around his torso, hooking my hand at his shoulder. Then I give him what he wants.

My pelvis smacks rhythmically against his ass and my balls slap forward against his taint. The harder I rut him, the better he takes it. He gives himself to it, fisting the sheets and pushing back against me.

My teeth are gritted. My body is coiled tight. My balls are swollen. I have never needed to come so bad. But I can’t because everything feels so good and I refuse to let it go.

But then Quinn screams and seizes on me, strangling my dick and thrashing under me, and my control snaps. I jack forward as my orgasm tears through me. My cock kicks, releasing deep inside him as I strain against his ass.

His orgasm is still gripping him hard, ripping garbled curse words from him. Every thrash of his body sends a shockwave through me and the clenching of his ass milks every drop of my cum.

It takes me a long moment to come down from that. I stay inside him, stunned by how hard I came, unable to think.

Quinn is quiet and relaxed until I start to pet his damp hair, then he squirms and tries to get away from me. I pull out, gasping at the too-much sensation.

I roll onto my side, hooking an arm around him and scooting across the bed, dragging him with me to get him away from where he came on the sheets. He isn’t happy. He wants away from me.

“Just relax,” I mutter, frustrated with him.

“I don’t do this part,” he grumbles.

“Too bad.”

“Red.”

“It doesn’t work like that.”

“ Red .”

“Quinn. You already are safe.”

He’s breathing hard, upset, angry. I haven’t forgotten the tear I swiped from his eye as I fucked him. I want him to talk to me, but that’s too much to ask right now. Maybe this is too much too. He really wants me to leave, just like he wanted to escape after he blew me in my office.

But that’s not going to work. I need him to relax. So I threaten him, “Do you ever want to do this again?”

He breathes angrily for a while. Then he grits out, “Yes.”

“Then just lie here with me and breathe.”

He struggles with it, god does he struggle. I don’t know what’s going on in his head, but I just start breathing against the back of his neck, and I keep my arm hooked around his ribs until he calms down.

When he’s lying quietly, I disentangle myself from him and scoot down to the foot of the bed. I get up and walk to the minikitchen, where I run the tap until the water is warm. I dampen a clean dishtowel and return to the bed.

Quinn hasn’t moved. His expression in blank. He’s completely shut down.

I clench my jaw, frustrated because I can see that I need to leave him alone and I really don’t want to. He has one arm out straight, his palm upturned. I press the dampened cloth into his hand. Then I go get dressed enough to walk through the house.

Carrying my shoes and shirt, I pause by the bed again. There are so many things I want to say to him, but I don’t think anything would get through in the way that I want.

So I sigh and say, “Goodnight, Quinn,” and I leave him alone.