Page 50 of Play Dirty

Madi chuckled and wrapped an arm around Az’s waist. “I’ll be the big spoon tonight, and I’ll keep my gun at the ready, just in case she attacks.”

The sound of Madi’s laughter spread warmth through Az’s chest. “Thank you,meri jaan.”

20

Madigan

Madigan jolted awake in the thick darkness, one hand already reaching for the grip of the gun he’d secured between the headboard and mattress. Next to him, Az stirred as Madigan held still, listening for whatever had woken him.

But it wasn’t a sound. The mattress jiggled lightly, and something small and warm inched up the covers, brushing along the inside of Madigan’s calf.

“Off,” he hissed. Then tried a vehement “get down,” when Mantis continued to creep determinedly higher.

Azrael’s sleepy chuckle cut through the darkness.

“You’d think Eastman would have something more obedient,” Madigan growled. “I didn’t get the idea he was one to indulge or coddle. Humans or otherwise.”

“Let her stay. She hardly weighs more than a feather anyway.”

“I don’t trust her. You saw what she did to that stuffed animal. I’d like all my parts to remain attached to their current locations.”

Still, when Mantis settled on Madi’s chest, he stroked her silky head, and she let out a contented chuff of sound before licking her chops and burrowing into him.

Madigan adjusted her weight and rolled onto his side as Azrael curled around him from behind, leaving him sandwiched between one killer of the human variety of one of the animal.

Az rumbled something nonsensical but vaguely soothing against the back of Madigan’s neck while Mantis settled in the crook of his arm. Seconds later, she was asleep.

He grew drowsy as Az caressed the side of his ribcage and along his flank, and he’d almost dozed off again when something warm and wet slid between his asscheeks, smearing over his hole. Az eased his cock inside him slowly. Madigan pressed instinctively back against the sensation of fullness, but Az wrapped an arm around him and splayed it low over his belly before kissing the nape of his neck and murmuring in his ear, “Shhh. Let us sleep now.”

Madigan started to protest that there was no way in hell he’d be able to fall asleep with a tiny teacup terror flattened to his chest and an angel of death’s cock buried inside him. Every instinct inside him screamed to reach a hand behind to clasp Azrael’s neck and force him to move inside him, but Azrael maintained that a slow, hypnotic stroke of his fingers over Madigan’s abdomen, and the occasional press of his palm was a soothing warmth that radiated through him. The desire to be fucked eased to a contented heat, a sensation of being shielded and held on all sides. Madigan had never felt such a thing before, and he didn’t have long to wonder over it because moments later, he was asleep.

He woke drenched in pleasure the way sunlight was drenching the bedroom, white-hot and everywhere, a deluge of it that penetrated every corner of the room and burned bright into every corner of him.

Az had one hand on the nape of his neck. The other gripped Madigan’s hip as he fucked into him slowly, luxuriously, like they had all the time in the world and this was the most important thing he’d do today. Madigan arched his back, opening so Az could slide deeper into him. He loved that they were like this, loved that he could pin Azrael against a wall and hammer mercilessly into him, hold his hair and fuck his throat until his voice was raw, and then be bent over a counter and given the same rough treatment only to wake up to the uniquely tender pleasure of Az already thrusting inside him, taking what he wanted without apology.

Madigan moaned, and Az leaned down and licked a stripe up the side of his neck, whispering softly in Urdu and then in English, “There you are,jaanum, just in time.”

Madigan was rock hard and dripping in seconds at the novelty of this version of morning alarm, drowning in the pleasure of being both used and taken care of when Az flipped him onto his back and stroked his dick in time with his deep thrusts.

Minutes later, they lay in a heap, drenched in sweat, cum striped over Madigan’s abdomen and spilling down his sides as they sprawled in the afterglow. He ran a hand lightly over Az’s dark hair, the man’s fingers still buried possessively inside Madigan, pushing back in the seed that had tried to run out when they’d collapsed next to each other.

“The dog probably needs to go out.”

“I’ll do it,” Az said, starting to get up, but Madigan yanked him back down and pressed an impulsive kiss to the other man’s forehead. “Let me. I need to piss anyway.”

Madigan slipped from the bed, pausing for a look over his shoulder as he walked toward the bathroom. Azrael lay splayed indolently on the mattress, head pillowed on bent arms, cock soft on his thigh. He didn’t bother trying to hide the hunger still in his gaze as he watched Madigan.

Something twinged in Madigan’s chest, and when Azrael’s lips quirked with self-aware charm, Madigan finally inwardly acknowledged that he liked being watched by the other man, found it reassuring somehow—whether the intent was salacious, protective, or maybe even affectionate.

Mantis trotted into the bathroom, tiny nails clicking on the tiles as Madigan used the facilities, brushed his teeth, then pulled on a pair of sweats and a long-sleeved tee.

“C’mon, killer,” he muttered, and was surprised when Mantis followed after him like she’d understood the sentiment was meant for her. He refreshed her water bowl and found a leash, clipping it onto her collar before tsking at her as she scratched at the cabinets when she caught sight of her food. “Uh-uh, sweetheart. Bathroom first. I don’t do clean-up duty.”

He tucked the Glock Az had given him into the waistband of his briefs and yawned as he pulled on a jacket, stuffed his feet into his shoes, and opened the door.

Downstairs, Mantis princessed around the small courtyard, taking her sweet ass time before finally doing her business. Madigan let her sniff around another five minutes and then snapped a pic and sent it to Eastman as his requested proof of life.

Back in the elevator, Christmas Muzak sounded through the speakers as Madigan punched the button for their floor and then leaned against the wall with another yawn. As the elevator door began to slide shut, he wondered if it was too much to hope that Az had the coffee going.