Page 7 of Play Dirty
Az swallowed hard against the knife point dimpling his throat.
“Don’t move.” Madigan flicked his tongue over stubble, tasted the other man’s pulse, and felt its thundering cadence against the flat of his tongue. He stepped around to Az’s back and repeated the motion with the knife from collar to waist, severing the fancy shirt cleanly in half then shoving it free of his arms. Azrael’s back was strong and well-defined, a landscape of hills and valleys Madigan looked forward to reacquainting himself with. He loved this view, loved seeing the scars he’d given Az, knowing their retaliatory counterparts were crosshatched onto his own skin.
Flipping the knife, Madigan reached around Az’s waist and deftly sliced free the button on his trousers.
“Careful,motek.”
“It entertains me that now is when you get jumpy, not when I’m at your throat.”
“If you go for my throat, I’ll be dead and none the wiser. If you cut off my cock and leave me maimed, I’ll have misjudged your capability of cruelty and be down a body part. The latter two are far worse prospects than the first.” Az’s tone was mild, though it sharpened with a breath when Madigan unzipped him and pulled out his cock.
“Your dick doesn’t seem too intimidated.”
“Which is exactly why I’ve never been so foolish as to trust its opinion.”
“Naturally.” Madigan chuckled then groaned as Azrael first pressed his firm ass back against Madigan’s aching cock, and then surged forward into his waiting grip. Az was infuriating, but damn, Madigan enjoyed the hell out of the parts of him that couldn’t speak. “You going to take my cock easy, or was that shower I took earlier a waste?”
“You smell better, so not a waste, perhaps. But I can promise you’ll be drenched before we’re done.” Az spoke absently, the words interrupted by a sigh of pleasure as Madigan stroked him, let him feel the hardness of his own cock pressing insistently against Az’s firm ass and tried to predict how things would play out between them, though it never worked. Never the same thing twice with this man.
Sure enough, seconds later, Madigan found their positions reversed when Az whipped around, quick as a viper’s strike.
Az’s chest rose and fell rapidly against Madigan’s back. He rubbed his cock slowly against Madigan’s ass, as if he wanted to make sure Madi appreciated every inch, then tightened his hold on Madigan’s chest. In return, Madi reached behind him, hooking a hand around the nape of Az’s neck, thumb finding the right pressure point and pressing in firm reminder:I’m only here because I allow it.
Az made a scoffing noise that let him know the message had been received, then moved against him with desultory rolls of his hips. He teased the hilt of the knife over Madigan’s nipples until they rose to tight peaks, then dragged it across his ribcage and around his back where the cool pressure vanished briefly, replaced with the rough warmth of Az’s hand gripping the waistband of Madigan’s pants. He yanked them down his thighs and wedged a foot between Madigan’s calves to shove the fabric all the way to his ankles and finally free.
Madigan gasped with the sudden shock of the knife’s rounded end brushing insistently against his hole. “Points for resourcefulness,” he managed, arching as nerve endings flared to life with another slow caress of the handle. “Fuck. May need to slick it up, sweetheart, it’s a little bigger than you.” It wasn’t remotely, but Madigan reveled in Az’s disapproving grunt almost as much as the pleasure that crawled up his spine when Azrael teased the tip of the handle over his entrance again and muttered a curse in his native tongue, clearly struggling to maintain his composure.
“We’ll see about that.” Az forced Madigan’s hands to the armrests of the chair and kicked his legs wider.
Another string of curses followed as Madi pressed back in an effort to force Azrael to reconsider his grip—and because it felt pretty fucking good. How far would Az go? Was he willing to sacrifice the skin of his palm to bury the knife’s hilt inside him.
Madi’s lips quirked. “Going to fuck me with this? Your dick not up to the task?”
“You’re a dirty motherfucker, Mr. Smith, you realize that?”
“I knew it from an early age.” Madigan laughed. “Not all of us grew up repressed by Daddy.” He cursed softly as Az drew the handle over sensitive skin once more before his touch vanished. Seconds later Az was on his knees behind Madigan, tongue searing over his hole and fingers invading him, opening him with rough thrusts that made him grunt with the electric pleasure spiking through him in staccato bursts. Moments like this reminded him that it was always worth getting Azrael riled. Always. Half the time, Madigan was convinced his sole motivation in learning everything there was to know about Az was so he knew exactly where to land his blows—verbal or otherwise.
Madigan grabbed a fistful of Az’s inky strands in a demanding clutch so he couldn’t move away and cried out as Az speared his tongue into him. Madi’s cock was full and aching, dripping with precum that he smoothed over his head as he jerked himself in time to Az’s thrusts.
“Ah, fuck,” he whispered when Az rolled on a condom, spread him to the point of pain and slid home in one smooth push.
It’d been months since he’d had Az inside him, and it wasn’t as if he’d forgotten the other man’s prowess in the bedroom or how the serrated edges of their primal tendencies seemed to jigsaw together perfectly, but Madigan was good at compartmentalizing, so when past and present collided in a gale force rush of sensation, it pulled a deep moan from his lungs.
Azrael whispered a steady stream of insults along with the occasional inadvertent—Madi was sure—compliment as he fucked him hard and deep, like he too had been waiting months for this release.
“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Madigan rasped out when Az plunged inside him with enough force to send him onto the balls of his feet. Pain twisted around pleasure and grew heavy inside him. “Because when it’s over—” Az buried his fingers in Madigan’s throat, presumably to shut him up, and cried out when Madi clamped down.
Seconds later, Az ripped the condom off, unloading in hot streaks all over Madigan’s back.
Madigan gave him a brief reprieve before he manhandled the fucker to the floor and pinned Azrael’s biceps with his knees. Az’s mouth was slack, his eyes hazy with the after-effects of his orgasm, though they darkened and got sharper when Madigan guided his cock between his slick lips. He closed his eyes, savoring the flicks of Az’s tongue over his swollen head and the notch beneath, sighing when Az closed his mouth around him and sucked, fingertips digging into the backs of Madi’s calves. “I think this is the best use of your mouth,” he said, bracing his palms on the carpet above Azrael’s head for leverage as he glided deeper into the soaking heat of Az’s throat. Az sputtered and choked but didn’t lodge a complaint.
Getting close to losing it, Madigan pulled out and started to roll Az onto his stomach when Az tugged his arm free and caught Madi by the roots of hair at the nape of his neck. Their lips met in a breathless clash.
Of all the things they’d done together—and there had been many that towed the line of depravity—Madigan had always thought this the most dangerous. He rarely kissed other men. Like his kills, he preferred a certain distance, and Az, true to his nature, craved the intimacy. Plus, Madigan was certain Az knew it rankled him. The man kissed as passionately as he fucked, though, so Madi supposed it could be worse.
Az reached between them, taking Madigan’s cock in his grip alongside his spent prick, so that every surge of Madi’s hips was a heady mix of friction and soft, slack skin. Tearing his mouth from Azrael’s, Madigan buried a cry into the smooth hill of his shoulder as he came on Az’s cock and didn’t stop rocking until an oversensitive shudder rippled through him.
They panted alongside each other, Madigan’s hand resting on his sternum, feeling his heartbeat as it gradually slowed while Az dragged his fingers through the spatters of cum low on his belly with a sleepy smile.