Page 37 of The Sterling Acquisition (Manufactured Mates #1)

Orion blinked rapidly, then swung again at Dante, his movements uncoordinated from the heat coursing through his system.

Dante easily sidestepped the clumsy punch, and Orion stumbled forward, off-balance.

His hands shot out to catch himself, grabbing onto Dante’s shirt.

The fabric tore under his grip, buttons scattering across the van floor as the shirt split open.

“Impatient,” Dante observed with dark amusement, though his voice was rougher now. “Though I don’t think that was intentional.”

Nothing about this is intentional anymore, he realized. We’re both just biology and want and need. And my hindbrain is loving every second of it.

Dante took advantage of Orion’s unsteady state, yanking his shirt over his head in one violent motion.

The fabric caught on Orion’s arms, briefly binding him, and Dante bit down on his exposed shoulder hard enough to leave a perfect impression of his teeth before yanking the shirt the rest of the way off. Now we’re even.

“Give it back,” Orion demanded breathlessly, grabbing at the discarded shirt. When Dante held it out of reach, Orion shoved him hard with both hands.

Dante used the momentum to spin Orion around and slam him against the opposite wall of the van. The impact sent organized trays of baked goods tumbling, filling the air with the scent of scattered pastries and crushed croissants.

Well, there goes Labrador’s legitimate cargo, Dante thought. Not that he’ll be needing it .

“We can do this dance as long as it takes,” Dante teased as he pinned Orion’s wrists above his head. “I’ve got all day.”

“You’re an asshole,” Orion snapped, his chest heaving against Dante’s. “And I’m not going to submit just because you helped me escape. This doesn’t change anything.”

It changes everything. Dante kept the thought to himself and just smiled. “We’ll see about that.”

Orion’s answer was to grab Dante’s hair and yank his head back, exposing his throat. His bite was vicious, designed to hurt, and Dante’s responding groan was completely involuntary. The pain-pleasure combination sent a surge through him so strong it nearly buckled his knees.

“Fuck,” Dante breathed, his hands tightening on Orion’s hips hard enough to bruise. He shoved Orion’s pants down roughly, not bothering with finesse. “You want to mark me? Go ahead. But I’m going to return the favor.”

Orion clawed at Dante’s chest, leaving red welts across his skin. Dante retaliated by biting down on Orion’s collarbone again, hard enough to make him cry out. Every movement was a negotiation of dominance.

“That’s it,” Dante encouraged, his voice rough with want. “Show me how much you hate needing this.”

But you do need it, the primitive part of his brain whispered. Just like I need to give it to you.

Orion’s response was to sink his teeth into Dante’s shoulder again, worrying at the skin like he was trying to tear flesh. The pain shot straight to Dante’s cock, and he ground against Orion’s hip, letting him feel how much he was enjoying the violence.

“There is something wrong with you,” Orion gasped, but his arousal was evident too, pressed hot and hard against Dante’s thigh .

“Says the man who’s dripping for me,” Dante shot back, his hand wrapping around Orion’s cock. Orion’s hips jerk forward involuntarily, as a broken sound escaping his throat.

This is what I wanted, Dante thought as he watched Orion’s face contort with pleasure and fury, drinking in every expression, every sound. Not the corporate-approved version, not the sanitized extraction. This—him fighting me, wanting me, falling apart for me.

“Let go or I’ll bite every one of your fucking fingers off,” Orion snapped, even as he thrust his hips forward into Dante’s grip.

Such creative threats, Dante thought as he undid his own pants with his other hand. Let’s test that resolve.

Dante pulled his cock out, gathering his own precum on his fingers before swiping through the slick between Orion’s thighs, then jammed his fingers into Orion’s mouth.

“Do it,” Dante dared. “Bite me.”

A wild look overcame Orion’s face, something feral and desperate that made Dante wonder if he had miscalculated. Then, without warning, Orion’s lips closed around Dante’s fingers, sucking instinctively. A low moan vibrated around the digits. He’s drunk on the taste of us together.

And I’m drunk on watching him give in, Dante realized. I need to feel his mouth on me.

Dante took advantage of the momentary lapse in judgment, his free hand pressing down on Orion’s shoulder, guiding him to his knees. “That’s better,” he murmured. “Much better.”

Orion looked up at him, suddenly uncertain, the pheromone-drunk haze clearing just enough for genuine trepidation to show in his eyes.

His hands hovered uncertainly, and for the first time since Dante had known him, Orion looked lost. So beautifully lost, tears on his cheeks, blood on his lips, the constellation of bruises and bites and raised flesh all over a body that belonged in a painting and a fighting pit all at once.

I’m never going to forget this sight, Dante thought, his entire nervous system practically humming. He’s breathtaking like this.

“I don’t...” Orion’s voice was barely a whisper.

Dante’s hand gentled in his hair, fingers threading through the dark strands with surprising tenderness. “I’ll help you,” he said, his voice softer than it had been all day. “I’ll help you taste me, baby.”

The endearment slipped out before Dante could stop it, but he didn’t take it back.

Instead, he guided Orion’s face forward with careful hands.

“Just open up for me, baby, just like that.” The sight of his cock pressing past Orion’s swollen lips, finally silencing that filthy mouth he’d been fantasizing about, nearly undid him.

This is really happening. He’s on his knees for you.

“Just like that... use your tongue... fuck, yes, just like that...”

Orion’s technique was clumsy and stilted, but the sight more than made up for it. The way he looked up with those glassy, desperate eyes, seeking approval as his fury seemed to be building back up, made it the single hottest thing Dante had ever experienced.

I could cum just from watching him, Dante realized.

“Enough,” Dante grunted, pulling Orion back up before he lost what little self-control he had left. “My turn.”

He spun Orion around, pressing him face-first against the van wall. Orion’s breathing was ragged, his body trembling with need and adrenaline.

“I want to hear you say my name when I make you cum this time,” Dante commanded, desire roughening the edges of his words as his fingers teased at Orion’s entrance.

Because I need to hear it. Need to know you’re thinking of me when you fall apart .

“Enough. No more,” Orion gasped, his forehead pressed against the cool metal. “Please, I—”

Dante had to grit his teeth. He said please. Every territorial instinct I have is going to interpret that as submission.

“I know what you need, baby,” Dante said, sliding one finger inside. Orion’s back arched, a low sound escaping his throat. “But we’re going to take this slow.”

Even though every instinct I have is screaming at me to claim you right now.

The stretch was careful, methodical. Dante added a second finger, then a third, working Orion open with deliberate precision. Every gasp, every whimper, every desperate roll of Orion’s hips was catalogued and savored by both his analytical mind and his possessive hindbrain.

“You’re going to feel so good around my cock,” Dante murmured against Orion’s ear, his fingers curling to find that spot that made Orion cry out. “So tight and perfect and all for me.”

Orion’s response was a choked sob. “I can’t... I’ve never...”

“I know,” Dante breathed. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself in Orion’s ass.

But not like this. Not in the back of a stolen van, with the scent of sweat and adrenaline thick in the air.

Orion deserved better—deserved to be spread out on silk, not up against a cold metal wall while they ran for their lives.

But fuck, he wanted to.

He pulled his fingers free, and Orion whined at the loss, his thighs trembling.

Dante didn’t give him time to recover. “Press your legs together for me, baby,” Dante whispered against his ear, squeezing Orion’s thighs together.

His cock, thick and leaking, nestled into the slick cleft of Orion’s thighs, the head already nudging against his tight hole .

So close.

So fucking close to where they both wanted him.

Orion gasped as Dante’s hands slid around his waist, one gripping his hip to hold him in place, the other wrapping around his cock. A rough, possessive stroke had him jerking against the wall, his breath hitching.

“You feel that?” Dante rumbled, his lips brushing the shell of Orion’s ear as he rocked his hips forward, his cock sliding between those clenched thighs.

The friction was maddening—hot, tight, the soft skin of Orion’s inner thighs gripping him like a second hand.

Every thrust sent the head of his cock catching against Orion’s rim, a relentless tease, a promise of what could happen if he just—

Just push forward. He’s ready. He wants it.

“This is what you do to me,” Dante groaned, his hips snapping into a brutal rhythm. His hand worked Orion’s cock in time, his thumb swiping over the leaking slit, smearing precum down his shaft. “Feel how hard I am for you? Feel how much I want to fuck you?”

Orion’s legs shook, his thighs trembling as he tried to clench them tighter, to give Dante more, to take more.

“Please,” Orion whimpered, his voice breaking. “Dante, I—”

“I know,” Dante growled, his free hand sliding lower, his fingers teasing over Orion’s balls before pressing down, right behind them, right where he wanted to be. “You want me inside you. You want me to ruin you.”

“Yes!” Orion sobbed, his hips pushing back, trying to take Dante deeper between his thighs, his cock throbbing in Dante’s grip. “God yes, but I’m scared–”

The honesty in those words, the raw vulnerability, hit Dante like a physical blow. This was Orion—defiant, unbroken Orion—admitting his fear and desire in the same breath.

He’s giving himself to me, Dante thought with savage satisfaction, drinking in every tremor, every desperate sound. He’s trusting me. And I’m going to take care of him.

Instead, he tightened his grip, his hand working Orion’s cock faster, his thumb pressing down on the sensitive spot just beneath the head. “Cum for me,” he demanded, his hips pistoning, his cock sliding through the slick heat of Orion’s thighs.

“Wait, wait, I need–fuck–” Orion gasped, one hand reaching back to grab at Dante’s hips.

“Cum for me, baby. Let go.” The pleasure coiled tighter in Dante, the friction of Orion’s thighs, the way his body clung to Dante’s cock—it was too much.

Orion’s body locked up, his back arching as Dante’s name poured from his lips in a breathless shout, his cock pulsing in Dante’s grip, spilling hot and thick against the van wall.

The sight of it, the feel of Orion’s thighs clamping down around his cock as he came, sent Dante over the edge.

He groaned, his own release crashing over him, his cock jerking between Orion’s legs, painting his thighs with thick, white streaks.

For a moment, they stayed like that—Orion slumped against the wall, Dante pressed against his back, both of them breathing hard, their bodies slick with sweat and cum.

By the time Dante pulled away, the intensity of Orion’s scent had receded enough that Dante felt marginally better about proceeding into the Neutral Zone. Marginally being the operative word.

Well, Dante thought as he watched Orion try to put himself back together, that was either the smartest tactical decision I’ve made in years, or the dumbest. Probably both. And I’m definitely not done with him.

“Better?” Dante asked, helping Orion straighten his clothes .

“Better,” Orion admitted weakly, still in the haze and afterglow of his orgasm. Then he shoved Dante away from him. “Now shut the fuck up and drive.”

Dante adjusted his pants and grabbed a clean shirt from his packed supplies and pulled it on, then crawled back to the driver’s seat with the lazy satisfaction of a man who’d just gotten exactly what he wanted.

“Your pheromones are tamping down already,” he said conversationally as he started the engine. The silence from the back stretched long enough that Dante thought maybe Orion was ignoring him.

Then he heard movement—the rustle of fabric and the soft thud of someone climbing over the bakery supplies.

Orion appeared in the passenger seat a moment later, pants barely pulled up, shirtless and glistening with sweat, looking like a pissed off fallen star who’d just been dragged through hell. “You’re an asshole.”

Jesus. Dante’s hands tightened on the steering wheel as he tried not to stare.

The sight of Orion disheveled and furious and beautiful was distracting in ways that made him question his ability to drive safely all over again.

Come on, Ashford, you just finished getting off.

What the hell is wrong with you? Focus on the road.

Professional. You’re supposed to be professional. “I was just demonstrating proper asset management protocols. Very by-the-book stuff,” Dante said, deliberately not looking at Orion.

“I’m sure calling assets ‘baby’ is in the corporate training manual,” Orion said quietly.

Dante opened his mouth to respond with some clever deflection, some sardonic comment that would turn the moment back into banter.

Instead, nothing came out. The accusation hit home because it was true—he slipped.

And the fact that Orion noticed and filed it away to use against him later was both impressive and embarrassing .

Shit.

For once in his life, Dante Ashford had no response. He kept his eyes on the road ahead and tried to pretend the silence wasn’t deafening.