Page 20 of His Prince (Unexpectedly Twisted #2)

18

MIKHAIL

I watch as Angel’s cheeks redden, his lips parting. I’m bracketing him fully now, my arms near his head, my chest hovering over his. I wonder if my admission has allowed him to open up, to give himself back to me.

“You really thought that?”

“Mmhmm.”

I settle my body against his, our bare cocks hard against each other’s, his legs twining around my thighs, his hands moving up into my hair, gently, so as not to hurt my already sensitive scalp.

“Mikhail,” he whispers, and his long eyelashes flutter. He’s so beautiful at this moment. I never thought I’d think that about another man, but for some reason, Angelo Costello has brought me right to the edge of insanity, and I’m eager for it.

“Can I, sólnyshko? Can I kiss you?”

He wets his lips, eyes dragging down to my mouth, and I can feel the tremble of eagerness through his entire body .

I want to spread his legs wide and sink into him, to feel him writhe beneath me. I want him to scream my name.

And I want to do all of it with my mouth on his. I want to taste him.

Angel lifts his head up slightly, his nose brushing against mine. He smells like sunlight and earth, like home. Like a home I forgot existed.

His lips brush against mine, a whisper, a flutter before he pulls away.

“You want me to give you everything, Mikhail, but I can’t.”

My body stiffens on top of his and our eyes meet.

“I can’t give you any more than I already have, or I might lose myself. And it’s the only thing I have right now.”

“So you’ll let me fuck you, but not kiss you?”

Rejection pulses through me, but as hard as I try to push it down, it rears up its head and roars. I have no right to feel this way. Not with how I’ve treated him.

“You can fuck me, even touch me while you do it, but I can’t…I just can’t.”

I push off him, my legs still straddling his hips, and stare down at his naked body beneath mine. I inhale deeply, my nostrils flaring as I take him in. If he doesn’t want me kissing him then I fucking won’t.

I should have never asked.

“Turn over,” I grind out, anger seeping through each syllable.

“Mikhail…”

“Turn over. I won’t touch you. I won’t kiss you. That’s what you want.”

He blinks up at me and sadness sweeps across his face, making something pinch deep within my chest. I won’t feel. I won’t fucking feel.

“Mikhail,” he whispers brokenly.

“Turn over, little devil.”

He blows out a breath as his legs fall from mine, and he sits up, twisting beneath me until his ass is on display. I stare down at it, the round tight globes, the way his narrow waist blends into his lean frame.

He’s nothing I thought I’d come to want and yet, here we are.

“Hold yourself open.”

He huffs and does as I say, reaching behind him and prying his ass cheeks open.

I stare down at that little hole, the one I’m going to push into, going to completely wreck.

I reach over and grab the lube, but just as I do, the chest in the middle of the room, the one blocking the secret passageway starts to rattle.

I freeze, glancing backward, Angel freezing beneath me.

“Why is that moving?”

I stare down at his ass and then back at the chest of drawers.

“Fuck,” I murmur, throwing a blanket over Angel, who is turning over to watch me stride to the chest and shove it away. As soon as I do, the door creaks open and Bane’s head appears.

This man is like a fucking mole rat.

Why won’t he fucking die?

“Oh hi,” he says and then glances down at my cock. “And hello to you too, big guy.” I glower down at him and his eyes meet mine. “Are you in the middle of something? I would say I’d come back, but I’d rather join.”

“You won’t see my husband’s body.”

“I mean, I’ve seen it before,” he says, hopping out of the passageway and dusting himself off. Angel grins at him and Bane winks back, making me all the more angry. How dare he come into my space, interrupting my time with my husband.

“Has he seen you naked?” I ask, and Angel shrugs, looking unbothered by it.

“Possibly. With the way Bane sneaks around, he could have.”

My eye twitches as I think about Bane creeping up on Angel while he’s changing or in the shower. It’s uncouth, uncalled for .

I take a step closer to him and Bane grins up at me. “You can’t scoop my eyeballs out. I did save your life.”

I hesitate and then reach out and grab him around his throat, walking him back until he’s up against the wall. He giggles and gasps as I lift him up off his feet, his toes dangling off the ground.

“You won’t fucking look at him again, do you understand?”

“Mikhail!” Angel cries out, but I ignore him.

“Oh, I understand,” Bane wheezes, his hands clutching my wrists. I choke him a little longer, until Angel stumbles over, a blanket around his shoulders, his cold fingers against my warm skin.

“Let him go, please.”

My fingers slacken and Bane slides against the wall, holding onto his throat.

His eyes are glimmering and his lips are turned up ina small smile.

“That was so hot. Anytime you want to choke me, I’m game.”

I stare at him in disbelief, and Angel tugs me toward the bed.

“Go on, Bane. Get out of here and stop going through the tunnels. Someone bad is down there.”

“Not anyone I’ve seen. It seems the ghost only wants Mikhail dead. Not me.”

“Bane, please,” Angel pleads, probably seeing the way my body is tensing, the way I want to grab on to his limbs and rip him apart.

Luckily for him, Bane disappears out the bedroom door and I’m left to close the secret passageway and push the chest of drawers over it once more.

“That man is a pest.”

“He’s a good one though,” Angel replies, and I stare at him, looking rumpled and flushed. I prowl toward him and that blanket falls to the ground, his body scrambling backward as he tries to make a run for it. But I grab him around the middle and hold him to me, my teeth sinking into his neck.

He cries out, bucking against me, but I hold him still .

“He’s not good enough for you,” I hiss, glancing down at the marks I’ve left on his porcelain skin.

“I know. He doesn’t want me anyway.”

“But if he did, would you want him?”

The thought makes me incredibly angry.

“No. No, I’ve only ever wanted you.”

The anger dissipates, replaced with something far more feral, unhinged. He’s only ever wanted me.

“Me?” I nearly growl as he falls back onto the mattress, his cock bobbing against his stomach, that pretty flush moving up his neck and into his cheeks.

“Yes. You.”

He scrambles back, but I grab on to his ankles, tugging him toward me as my name slips from his lips with a squeal.

“Say it. Say you only want to fuck me.”

“Just you,” he murmurs, and I pull him right to the edge of the bed and flip him over.

I won’t touch him or kiss him, won’t make him feel more than he should for me. It was selfish to ever ask. I can’t give him more than this.

“Spread. Them.”

His hands reach back and pull his cheeks apart, showing me his hole.

I spit on it, working it open with my finger before dripping lube onto it, watching as it gapes and opens for me. He writhes beneath me, humping into the mattress.

“Oh my god. Oh, it feels so good.”

“It will feel better when it’s my cock inside you.”

“Yes. Yes .”

He removes his hands from his ass and fists the sheets as I work two fingers inside of him, scissoring him open. He arches his pretty back up, the veins in his neck protruding from his skin.

“Mikhail, please. Fuck me. I need it. ”

“You need me,” I clarify, and he nods, pushing his ass back against my hand as I continue to fuck him with my fingers.

I don’t give in yet, just continue to thrust into him until he’s panting.

“If you don’t fuck me…I’m going to come before you get the chance.”

We can’t have that.

I pull my fingers from him and stare down at his pink hole.

Grabbing the lube, I slick up my cock and then lean over him, slotting myself right at his hole.

Then I push forward, feeling the way his tight ring strangles my cock, the way it swallows me whole.

I groan as I sink in deeper, his heat setting me on fire.

“Oh fuck,” he moans, my dick still tunneling inside of him.

“You like it, me fucking you,” I hiss, bottoming out inside of him. I love holding myself inside of him, watching him writhe on my length. He’s completely at my mercy and I’m obsessed with it.

With him.

“I do. I do. More. Please. Move.”

I start to fuck him roughly, relentlessly. He’s panting, whining, crying out every time my cock tunnels into his tight hole. The way he looks spread out, fingers clutching the sheets, his ass plump and pink. I grab on to it and pry him open, watching as my cock disappears inside of him.

Fuck, he takes me so well.

So fucking well.

I can’t last like this, won’t be able to hold out. He’s too good, too tight. My cock is eager to spill inside of him.

A feral grunt leaves me and my cock pulses, filling him up. My cum spills down his thighs as I continue to rut into him. And then I pull out and Angel whimpers, his ass leaking more of my release.

With two fingers, I push the cum back inside of him, his whimper turning into a cry as I find his prostate and massage it. He bucks beneath me, his body shaking with a craving only I can satiate .

“Mikhail. Mikhail.” He’s chanting my name now, rutting his dick into the mattress, fucking back against my fingers until he screams and his cock erupts. He trembles through the orgasm, his entire body flushed pink. I can’t help but lean down and drag my lips up his spine, tasting the salt and sweat that lingers on his skin.

When he finally goes limp, I remove myself from him, my fingers sticky from lube and my release.

“I’ll clean you up,” I say, and he sighs, wiggling up the bed and sprawling out like a starfish.

When I return with a wet washcloth, he’s almost asleep, his eyelids drooping as he watches me approach.

“Hey,” he says sweetly, his cheeks still a pretty pink.

I reach down and wipe up the mess he made, staring at his sloppy, used hole. It makes something inside of me well up with pride.

I made him scream. With my cock and my fingers. Imagine what I can do with my tongue.

“What’s that look for?” he asks when I finally draw my hand away from him.

“Nothing. Go to sleep. I’ll take care of the sheets tomorrow.”

He curls up with a contented sigh, and I toss the washrag to the side and slide in next to him. Not touching him, but waiting.

Waiting for him to roll over onto me later tonight.

The next morning, I wake to Angel on top of me, his body slowly rutting against mine even as he sleeps.

My horny little prince. My hands skim down his back to his pert ass cheeks, and I squeeze them gently. A content sigh escapes him, and I feel my already hard cock throb. My finger slides down his crack to his puckered hole and I press against it, loving the sounds he makes as he wiggles against me .

“Oh,” he gasps, and then his eyelids flutter open, his lips impossibly close to mine.

Not that he wants me to kiss him.

“Oh, yes. There. Right there.” He wiggles on top of me a little further, giving me better access to his ass.

“You sore?” I ask softly, and he sighs.

“A little, but…I’m so horny.”

“Come here,” I say and pull him up until he’s straddling my chest.

He stares down at me, his eyes still sleepy, his hair a mess. I reach out and cup his cock in my hand, stroking it lazily.

“Oh,” he gasps and then leans his head back, his Adam’s apple working as he grabs onto the headboard and starts to rock his hips forward. I watch it all, my eyes unsure of where to land—his leaking cock, his trembling thighs, his heaving chest, or his face.

That beautiful fucking face. Those pink cheeks and puffy mouth.

He bites down on his bottom lip and stares down at me, his pupils dilated, his lashes fluttering.

I tighten my hold on him and that bottom lip pops out, wet and red. I stare at it, envisioning my mouth on his, sucking on it, licking it.

His body starts to shudder and then he tenses up, his cock pulsing his release. It hits my chest and neck, sliding down my skin to the pillow beneath my head.

Angel stares at it as I slowly let him go.

“I made a mess everywhere.”

“You did.”

His lips tremble and then he lets go of the headboard and reaches behind him, finding my hard cock straining upward.

“Oh.”

“I’m fine. It’s time to get up.”

“But—”

Just as he says that there’s a knock on the door.

“Little husband?” one of the bodyguards says. My cheek twitches at that term of endearment. They have no right. He’s not theirs. He’s mine.

“One second,” Angel calls out and then glances back at me.

“It’s fine. You need to make them breakfast before they break down my door, and I have to investigate the intruder on the premises.”

“I know, but you?—”

“You started something by feeding the animals, little Angel. And now you need to follow through.”

He sighs and then moves off me, but not before leaning down and caressing my cheek tenderly.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he says, and I watch him change into something far too revealing. Not that I say anything. It only encourages his bad behavior.

And as much as him being a brat seems to turn me on, I don’t want anyone else to get any ideas. I’d hate to have to dispose of my workers.