Page 40 of Play Dirty
Burying his fingers in Az’s dark strands, he clutched the back of his neck and fucked his mouth until he was dripping, then pushed Az away. “Go stand in front of the window.”
Az gave a slow glance over his shoulder at the window, now blackened by night, then back to Madigan, his gaze appraising as it moved over his face. Whatever he read there had him rising to his feet and prowling languidly toward the window.
Madigan dropped a hand to his own cock and gave it a couple of strokes as he eyed Az’s muscular ass. “Keep your back turned and prep yourself for me.”
Azrael turned another one of those gauging looks over his shoulder, dark eyes flickering intently over Madigan.
They played against death regularly. Death wasn’t a threat between them, it was a simple inevitability, Madigan figured. But being vulnerable and exposed? That was something entirely different. Right now? That was what he wanted from Azrael to even the score between them.
Az held Madigan’s gaze as he slipped two fingers into his mouth, turning away only to spread himself with one hand while he slid his wet fingers along the crevice of his ass, circling, tracing, and teasing his hole. Madigan grew harder and gave in, stroking his cock in earnest when Az slid the first finger inside.
Az let out a sultry moan and planted one hand against the windowpane as he slid the second finger inside and fucked himself slowly, working his fingers in and out and stretching his hole with every pass. “This is what you wanted?” he rasped, voice tight.
Madigan’s answer was to rise and pad closer, his hard dick leaking onto his palm with his lazy strokes. When he was close enough, he reached out, pushing a finger in alongside Azrael’s.
Az let out a slow breath that broke on a curse, hips easing back and urging Madigan’s finger deeper as Madigan wrapped his hand around Az’s and took over the pace, shifting the tempo from a focused exploration to a forceful hammer. Az cursed again as Madigan pegged his prostate over and over. His dick glazed Az’s asscheek with precum and Madigan caught sight of a puddle forming underneath his spread legs.
“Give it to me, Madigan, or is your intent to deny me until I’m fucking crazy?”
Madigan pulled his finger from Az, shoved his waistband lower, and painted the head of his cock over Az’s entrance, drawing back a scant inch when Az moaned and pressed against him. “No lube. It’ll burn.”
“I’ve been burning since I met you.”
Madigan grunted, wet his thumb, and pressed it inside Az, holding him open as he spit on Az’s hole and then pushed the head of his cock inside, too. A shudder coursed over him as pleasure rang through every muscle and tightened them.
Az groaned for the dual invasion and splayed his hand wider on the window, the heat of his palm streaking and squeaking against the glass as Madigan braced a possessive hand low on Az’s back and drilled into him.
He moved slowly at first, drawn against his wishes to the graceful curve of Azrael’s spine, how he swayed in perfect synchrony to Madigan’s movements, not fighting or resisting, but letting the punch of Madigan’s hips roll through his body like a tide. The muscles in Az’s back were pulled tight, those in the arms he used to brace himself against the window corded with tension, and as Madigan moved inside the perfect heat and grip of the other man, he could feel himself giving in.
He wouldn’t be able to hate Azrael. No matter how much he wanted to. Because there was another feeling that firmly supplanted his best intentions, the one that niggled at the back of his mind when he stared down at the vulnerable curve of Az’s neck, that whispered in his ear as he pulled out of the man and slammed back in harder. The one that was present, too, at other times; the stutter in his chest when he’d first glimpsed Az in Atlantic City. The many times the same had happened before then.
Madigan tried to drown it out by fucking Az harder. He urged him closer to the window and hauled him upright, one arm banded across Az’s chest to help keep him on his feet.
The smack of skin on skin filled the air alongside a chorus of primal grunts, curses, and lust-soaked groans. Sweat dripped onto the floor, and their combined heat fogged the glass in front of them. Madigan lost himself in the perfect harmony of their bodies straining toward release together. In this one thing, he could always count on Azrael. He hated it and loved it in equal measure.
With a cry, he dug his fingers into Az’s skin and let go, riding the orgasm that ripped through him and pulsed from his cock in hot, thick jets that left him shuddering against Az.
Az came a second later, painting the window in front of them with his release.
Panting, Madigan draped over Az’s back until he could draw a full breath again. When he tried to step away, Az reached back and grabbed him, spinning around.
He planted his palms on either of Madigan’s cheeks and pulled him in, kissing Madigan on the mouth before he could protest, though Madigan wasn’t certain he would have anyway. His tongue slid alongside the hot, velvety swipe of Azrael’s, needy and relentless, their spent cocks brushing each other and sending tiny spikes of heat through Madigan.
“This isn’t the solution, you realize,” Az said a moment later when they broke apart to catch their breath.
“It’s worked just fine for us before,” Madigan grumbled. “If it’s not the solution, what the fuck is it?”
“The opening plea for negotiations.”
“There won’t be shit to negotiate if we can’t get out of this sorry fucking mess.” He slipped free of Azrael’s grasp and retrieved the towel from the floor, wiping himself down before tossing the towel to Az and flopping on the couch. He needed another shower, honestly.
Az joined him a second later, and Madigan was surprised to find himself being drawn back against Az’s chest, more surprised that he let it happen. He sank against the other man’s sticky heat, lulled by the slow tide of his breath.
“The easy solution is to let me handle it,” Az said.
Madigan barked out a laugh and angled a look at Az. “No. You can’t do it alone, and we’re not playing the martyr game.”
“Why not? Many of my ilk have been playing it very successfully for years.” Azrael’s eyes flashed with the macabre quip, and Madigan shook his head.