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“When you beg me like that, I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

He unfastened Niko’s jeans with a slow, tantalizing deliberation, then pulled them off, followed by his boxers—deep blue and covered in a pattern of tiny, illustrated spaceships similar to the Sonadora Despierta, charmingly tacky.

He shrugged Niko’s t-shirt off himself, finally rewarding his good boy with a full and unimpeded view of his own nude body.

Then he looked down at Niko’s gray tank top, the only clothes remaining between them, and paused in thought.

It would be difficult to pull off him with the other man’s wrists bound together. Elliott could leave it on.

Or he could have fun with it.

“How certain are you that we can get steady supply restock from Lady Death?” he asked.

“Huh?” Niko puzzled out, a perplexed frown creasing his brow. “I’m pretty damn sure. But what does that have to do with—”

Ah, I get to do it the fun way.

Elliott helped himself to gripping the fabric of Niko’s top. He ripped it open with his bare hands.

“Holy shit, Elliott.”

“A bit dramatic,” Elliott muttered, painfully self-aware now.

“But hot as fuck.”

Elliott then retrieved the bottle of lubrication from the drawer of their bedside table, pouring a generous amount into his palms and Niko’s own opening, massaging at him with his fingers, taking his time in loosening and opening him up.

It was taking less effort with each time he’d let Elliott top him.

What had started as an awkward tangle of trying to fit their bodies together the first time Niko had been willing to trust him in going there was now relented and relaxed with ease.

“So eager,” Elliott teased. “Do you want it, Niko?”

“Yeah. I fucking do. Please. I can’t wait any longer.”

Elliott bent forward and laced a trail of slow kisses between his lover’s thighs. He knew Niko had issues of self-image and self-worth. The other man’s gaze always seemed to dull or flicker in another direction whenever he saw Elliott touching his legs. “Look at me, Niko.”

Niko did, turning his gaze back on Elliott again.

Elliott knelt and kissed further down his legs and stroked them tenderly.

It didn’t matter to him that Niko couldn’t physically feel it; this was meant as a loving touch felt more in the mind, in the soul.

“I want you to know how perfect you are. You’re perfect for me.

You’re perfect in my eyes. I love every part of you. You’re so beautiful to me.”

“Elliott, I—” There it was, the subtle hitch in his lover’s voice that always came when Elliott gave him attention there. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me for anything. I’m not saying it as a favor. I’m only telling you my truth.”

“Yeah.”

And I’ll keep telling you, again and again, until you believe it too.

He stood and stroked his hands down Niko’s side and let his fingertips glide low across the other man’s belly, just above his groin and over the soft hair there. “Are you ready for me? Do you think you can take all of me? You’ve done such a good job at letting me fill you in the past.”

“Please, Elliott. I need it. I need you. Please let me take you.”

He loved making Niko beg for it. Something bright and shimmering danced behind his eyes upon hearing those words.

He lined himself up with Niko and pushed in—with hardly any resistance this time.

The sensation elicited a sensuous moan from his lover.

Elliott sunk himself in his tight heat up to the hilt.

He could feel his pulse in his entire body now, vibrant with excitement, arousal, and need.

Then he gave Niko everything he’d begged for, thrusting hard into him again and again, leaning forward over the other man and prying his legs as far apart as they could go. He stroked Niko’s cock in time with his own movements, until his lover began gasping softly from the motions.

“Harder. Please, baby,” Niko said, his voice hoarse and breathy as he began to lose himself. “I want it harder, deeper. I want… I want it to hurt. I like it when it's with you.”

Elliott railed him now, pushing his entire weight onto his lover with each thrust. If Niko wanted to be destroyed, he would gladly oblige.

“Elliott—Baby—Please—I—I need to come. Please, can I?”

“No.”

Niko emitted a low whimper that nearly made Elliott’s legs buckle beneath him.

All his adult life, there had been something about taking a man and reducing him to pleading, whimpering, and begging for him.

And it meant especially much coming from Niko, the fiercest opponent and strongest man he’d ever encountered.

Fuck yes.

Elliott loved being his Dom.

“I can’t take it anymore. God, baby,” Niko pleaded. “I can feel you everywhere. I can’t— Please. I can’t last. Not when you fuck me like that.”

“Hmmmm.” Elliott pretended to consider, still giving it to his lover nearly as hard and rough as he physically could.

It took a heroic, willful effort to not lose himself and spill hot and runny inside of Niko.

He’d done it before, the first time the other man had let him top.

The thrill, the sensation had been too good.

The way Niko had begged him—then and now—was too good.

Knowing he was taking such a strong, capable man to pieces, making him plead for release, sent a rush of goosebumps and electric thrill all the way down to his toes.

An indulgent moan escaped on his exhale.

“Since you begged for it so sweetly, I’ll let you come… On one condition.”

“Wh-what’s that?” Niko’s voice broke on the words, barely more than an exhaled breath now. He was so close that it had become hard for him to speak.

Elliott stayed silent another moment, wanting to tease him.

But his lover was an impatient man. “Baby…?”

“I want you to look at me, when you do.”

He thrust into Niko even harder and faster, knowing it would trigger the other man’s release. As if on cue, Niko’s neck arched back on the pillow and for a brief moment, he wrenched his eyes shut, lips parting. He was beautiful in his rapture, like a painting.

“Niko.”

Then those dark eyes opened again, fixed only on Elliott as he railed him into ecstasy now, his own moans escaping as he pressed deep into his lover, wanting to escape into him, become a part of him.

The expression painted on Niko’s face was one that Elliott wanted to commit to memory forever—cheeks flushed, eyes wild and pleading, mouth opening as a low, throaty set of cries emerged with each of Elliott’s thrusts.

Seconds later, a stream of come spattered across Niko’s bound wrists and heaving chest.

“Oh f— Oh fuck,” he whimpered.

Elliott reluctantly pulled out of him, already missing the tight warmth of his lover. He was too close now to keep going. Not after that performance.

Exquisite.

He continued stroking himself, crawling over Niko. The other man reached up to try and aid him, even with his wrists bound.

“No,” Elliott murmured, his own voice low and liquid with mounting, frantic need. “No. Open your mouth for me, darling.”

Niko did, obedient as always.

How lovely you are.

“You ate it earlier like you were starving,” Elliott said, “so I’ll nourish you.

” He jerked himself until it came, the grand rush of pleasure that rocked through him like a crashing storm.

It was all Elliott could do to keep kneeling over Niko; his knees threatened to give out again from the intensity of it.

He spurted into Niko’s mouth, his come coating the man’s tongue.

“Swallow it all.”

Niko did, eyes meeting his own the entire time. It gave Elliott another trembling thrill of pleasure, his giddy heart nearly bursting in his chest. Then he collapsed down onto the bed beside Niko. He gave him a long, sensual kiss along the jaw.

“Good boy.”

Elliott then untied the makeshift restraint, tossing the belt lazily off the side of the bed, exhausted. He felt around on the blankets behind him until he found the shredded tank top, and used it to clean Niko off.

Some distant part of his brain nagged at him that they shouldn’t have worn themselves out, shouldn’t have expended the energy before what lay ahead of them today, but he willfully pushed the thought away, not wanting to entertain it.

Thinking of Hesaakan in any capacity—even ending the creature’s life—made him sick.

It was like a black hole that began to eat all the light out of him.

He could think about it later. This was their moment.

Being with Niko was the only time he was able to stop thinking.

“Niko, are you alright?”

“Yeah, babe. I’m… Yeah. I’m alright. I’m really good, actually. Thank you. For everything. For being patient with me through my bullshit.”

“Turn over,” Elliott said softly. Niko turned so his back was facing Elliott now.

Elliott traced his fingertips along all the strong muscles there, before silently signing his own name between Niko’s shoulder blades.

It briefly appeared as a pale imprint against his lovely, dark bronze skin before vanishing into him.

Then Elliott wrapped around him possessively, pressing his body against the bigger man’s.

“Will you tell me if you’re not? Will you tap my hand? Will you say our safeword?”

“Yeah, Elliott. I will. I won’t pull what I did again. I never should have. I wasn’t used to this, and so I pushed you away. I wish I could take it all back. I don’t ever want to push you away. I don’t ever want to hurt you. Not you.”

“You were phenomenal today, Niko.”

“Eh, you did most of the work—”

“No. Stop. It’s not like that. You were wonderful. But I meant more than that, too. More than the physical. I’m proud of you. It takes courage to say what you want. And it takes a lot to admit what you’re afraid of.”

That was something Elliott knew all too painfully well.

“Yeah. It does.” Niko fell quiet for a moment before glancing back over his shoulder, dark hair falling across it. “Are you okay, baby? It’s… a lot. All of it. Today, everything. This. Me.”

“Niko, this is the best I’ve been in a very long time.”

“Really? I’m glad.”

Elliott held him tighter. For a moment, they simply lay there, before he found himself breaking the spell of their shared silence, which had begun edging on falling into a sleep they couldn’t afford right now.

“I never moaned.”

“What?” Niko said, the word nearly slurred from his bliss-laden exhaustion. He looked at Elliott from over his shoulder again.

“Before. With anyone else. With Liam. With anyone. I never moaned during sex. I stayed quiet.”

“Wait, what?” Niko was awake now, eyes widening with shock. “But every time we…”

“I know.” This time, he was the one to blush, it seemed. “I suppose you just do that to me.”

“Do I?” Niko’s voice rose in pitch, the excitement and elation in those words clear. The man was ridiculously pleased with himself. It made Elliott’s lips curl into a smile.

There was something he wanted Niko to know.

“Haven’t you realized?” he began quietly, resting his cheek against Niko’s back. “You’re the only one who’s ever held power between us. I belong to you, Niko, wholly. You have me in the palm of your hand. You always have.”

“I love you, Elliott.”

It was Elliott’s turn to be a little needy now. “Say it again. Please.”

“I’ll say it as many times as you want me to. I’ll say it every night before you sleep. I’ll say it every morning when you wake. It’ll be the last and first thing you’ll hear every day, for the rest of your life. I love you, Elliott. I love you, I love you.”

Niko was too good for him. Elliott hardly deserved this. Those words were meant for someone far better than the wretch that he was. But he clung to them anyway, with greedy desperation. Niko’s love was what had even kept him alive at this point, longer than the rage and resentment ever could have.

“I love you too, Niko. I’ll take care of you.”

Such a meager, simple offering.

But it was all that Elliott had to give. He had never meant any words so intensely, so truly, with such ferocity in all his life as those.

He wished he could show the urgency of them, how they were words that were more than words, that when he’d said them, he’d spilled out a part of what little was left of his soul and gifted it to Niko.

But his lover only grinned, his eyes squinting with that kindling warmth that came to him so easily as breathing.

Niko understood.

“I know, babe. I’ll take care of you, too.” He was always so brilliantly intuitive, acutely tuned-in to Elliott. It was one of the greatest comforts he had ever known, to simply be understood. Even when he tried not to be, hiding away in the very shadows he’d created.

Perhaps especially then.

With this man by his side, Elliott felt capable of anything. Maybe, even, that he was deserving of love, after all.

Niko had given him something unspeakably precious, unfurling and blooming within him like a wounded flower battered by the rain, turning its bruised petals to the light of his sun.

He gave him a tomorrow.