If The Seas Catch Fire (14 page)

Dom shuddered. “Please…”

Sergei raised his head. Dom’s eyes were wide, wet as if he was about to break down in tears, and his lips were apart as he struggled to catch his breath. Tightening his grip on Dom’s cock, he said, “When I’m done, I’m going to fuck you again, and I’m going to make it fucking
hurt
.”

And just like that, Dom lost it.

His eyes rolled back. He held onto Sergei’s shoulders for dear life, and fucked against him, shooting hot semen all over Sergei’s hand and arm and stomach as his lips formed soundless, breathless curses.

Still shaking, he looked up at Sergei. “Promise?”

“Yeah. Promise.”

The orgasm he’d had in the club kept Dom semi-sane, but he needed more.

Waiting for Sergei was going to drive him out of his mind. He’d already taken two showers—one before the club, and one after he’d checked into the motel room because maybe this time it would get hot enough to rinse away the gunpowder residue on his hands. By the time he’d finished showering—
nope, not hot enough
—he didn’t have much time. Sergei would be here any minute.

Sergei had ordered him to wait naked, so he didn’t bother getting dressed after he’d dried off. And that wasn’t the only thing Sergei had demanded.

Dom poured some lube on his fingers, and then lay back on the bed with his legs apart. Eyes closed, he reached down and pressed one fingertip against his ass.

As his hole started to relax, and his finger slid inside, his thoughts disintegrated. The rest of the night ceased to exist except for that little preview in the booth at the club. The guilt, the shame—it was gone. Temporarily maybe, but he’d take what he could get, and he pushed a second finger inside just so the stretch and the burn would erase even more of his mind.

Oh, it did. And it felt amazing. It was also deliciously rebellious. Ever since he’d almost gotten caught with a man years ago, he’d been so paranoid, he was sure if he finger-fucked himself or used a toy or anything, someone would catch on. The potential for embarrassment was one thing. Knowing all too well what could happen to him if someone suspected he was gay? That was more than enough to keep him from touching himself this way.

He’d jerk off—what man didn’t?—but this? He hadn’t dared. And now he was. And as he pushed his fingers inside himself, his toes curled and he was getting unbearably hard.

What if he got caught this time?

Oh hell. He was
going
to get caught. Sergei was going to walk through that door, and he was going to find Dom like this—legs spread, two fingers inside himself, dick hard and breath gone.

God, yes. He wanted Sergei to see him this way. And he wanted him to make good on his promise to fuck him, and then fuck him again until it hurt.

No shame. No holds barred. No consequences because no one would catch them. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d truly needed this arrangement until tonight. With Sergei, he could be the man he was forbidden to be—a gay man who wanted to feel another man. Just a night of sex. Raw, primal sex. No lies, no gunfire, no filling a role he’d never wanted to fill.

Footsteps outside raised goose bumps on Dom’s arms. The click of the door made his breath catch.

And there he was—Sergei.

He took one look at Dom, and grinned. Closing the door behind him, he said, “Now that’s something I could watch all night.”

“D-don’t watch.” Dom slipped his fingers free. “You said you’d—”

“Oh, I know what I said.” Sergei took off his shirt. He shifted to one side, then the other. Probably toeing off his shoes. “Did I say you should stop?”

Dom blinked.

“Well?”

Dom started fucking himself with his fingers again. Jesus—it was the exact same thing he’d been doing before, but somehow, doing it in front of Sergei made it a million times more intense. Maybe because Sergei was stripping off his tight jeans now, revealing the thick cock that Dom had been craving. He was quickly getting hard, and after he’d taken off his briefs, Sergei stroked himself slowly, bringing his cock to full attention.

Dom’s mouth watered. “Please…”

Sergei grinned. “You’re such a gentleman.” He climbed onto the bed. “Always asking so nicely.”

Dom bit his lip.

Sergei gently nudged his hand out of the way, and then he came down on top of Dom, his thick cock against Dom’s and his narrow waist between Dom’s thighs.

And he kissed him.

God.

In.

Heaven.

Dom thought he was going to lose his mind. Sergei was, as always, aggressive, but not overly so, and the taste of his kiss intoxicated Dom. His hair was damp and he didn’t smell like the mix of sweat, cologne, and booze that stuck to everything in that club, so he must’ve showered. Dom didn’t care—as long as he had Sergei in bed with him, he didn’t care about anything else.

Sergei pushed himself up on his arms, and then moved to his feet in a motion that was way too graceful and coordinated for a man with a hard-on. He beckoned to Dom. “Stand up.”

Stand up? Are you kidding?

But he did what he was told, even if his legs weren’t quite sure about it.

“Not sure I can stand very well,” he said.

“It’s okay. I wasn’t planning to keep you on your feet.” Sergei shoved Dom down onto his knees. Not that it required much effort—the faintest pressure on his shoulder knocked his knees out from under him.

Dom had barely hit the floor before Sergei forced his dick into his mouth.

Oh yes. Yes, this he could handle. Maybe his legs weren’t competent enough to keep him on his feet, but with a hand on Sergei’s hip and the other around his cock, he was pretty sure he could stay upright like this.

Stroking his hair, Sergei fucked his mouth. “You’re a hell of a distraction, you know.”

Dom moaned around Sergei’s dick.

“Kind of hard to…” Sergei exhaled. He gripped Dom’s hair and thrust
just
enough to push Dom’s gag reflex. “Hard to concentrate on dancing when I just… when I just want to come back here and fuck you.”

Dom moaned again, since it was the only sound he could make.

“In fact, speaking of fucking you.” Sergei pulled his cock free. “Bend over the bed.”

Didn’t have to tell him twice. Dom scrambled to his feet, legs still wobbly, and turned around and bent over the mattress.

Sergei quickly put on a condom, and then stood behind Dom. Dom held his breath. He gripped the sheets, ready to lose his mind from the sheer anticipation, especially as the head of Sergei’s cock teased him.

Dom was already slick and stretched, and Sergei took full advantage—one hard, violent thrust, and he was buried to the hilt. Dom moaned, eyes watering and elbows shaking beneath him.

“You did exactly as you were told,” Sergei breathed as he started thrusting. “You’re… God, this is perfect.”

Dom just moaned again. Words didn’t seem important anymore.

Sergei forced him all the way down, until his face was pressed against the sheets, and he held him there with a painful grip on his hair as he fucked him harder.

Everything ceased to exist. Even the rough sheets beneath Dom’s face and chest faded into nothing. All that mattered in the entire universe was Sergei forcing his cock deep inside, again and again and again, so hard he made Dom’s eyes water. He felt nothing except being fucked. The hand in his hair, the thick cock inside him, the thrusts that didn’t quit—
please, please, please, do this all night
.

He wanted his orgasm to stay back so he could lose himself, but he felt so good, and his impending climax was so deliciously intense, he didn’t fight it. He let Sergei drive him closer, his breath catching as the sheets beneath him added the most amazing friction. The room spun. The darkness behind his eyelids turned white.

Dom gasped. Every muscle in his body tensed. He was almost there. Almost there. Almost—

Sergei cried out something in his mother tongue, and the world exploded. Dom was coming, and Sergei was driving him down into the mattress with painful, erratic thrusts as he too fell apart.

Dom blinked a few times. They were still now. Had he blacked out? Maybe. Didn’t matter. Felt great.

Sergei withdrew slowly, and if Dom hadn’t already been facedown on the mattress, he was sure he would’ve collapsed. Jesus fuck.

Somehow, he figured out how to start breathing again. With oxygen moving once more, his head stopped spinning, and he clumsily pushed himself up. Sergei had stepped into the bathroom and came out with a couple of coarse towels, which they used to clean themselves off.

Then Dom dropped onto his back on the bed. Sergei fell beside him.

After a while, Sergei spoke, his voice unusually soft and gentle. “You all right?”

“Yeah.” Dom released a long, ragged breath. “I needed that.”

“So I see.”

The unspoken question in Sergei’s voice turned Dom’s head, and their eyes met.

Sergei moistened his lips. “Something’s different tonight.”

“It’s… complicated.”

“Mmhmm.” Sergei’s eyebrow arched.

Dom swallowed. “I, uh, I guess I just got to thinking about things tonight. And the thing is, I’m only going to be able to do this”—he gestured at Sergei, then himself—“until I have to get married.” Good enough. And not entirely untrue. “After that…” Dom shook his head. “I don’t know. I guess I just… I feel like time is running out. Like I need this, and I need to get as much as I can while I still can.”

Sergei pursed his lips. “You need… what exactly?”

“This. What we’re doing.”

“Yeah. That’s the part I’m not sure about. You want to get gay sex out of your system, but tonight, it seemed like you came looking for something more than that. So I need to know, what
do
you want from me?” He narrowed his eyes slightly, as if trying to read Dom’s answers before he gave them. “A secret fuck buddy? Or…?”

“I’m not sure. I want this. The sex, I mean. I don’t think I could ask for more than that from you because I couldn’t honestly say I could give it back.”

“So what was tonight all about?”

Tonight happened because every time I kill someone, a piece of me dies with him, and I needed—I need—to feel alive.

Dom sighed. “It’s hard to explain. All I can offer you is sex, so that’s all I can ask for too.”
I need so much more from you. But I can’t ask for what I can’t give.
“Is that enough?”

“Of course,” Sergei said without hesitation. “It’s all I want too. I like the arrangement we have. You text me when you want me. Tell me where to meet you. And we fuck.”

It sounded so crude. Little more than hiring a prostitute. Except he didn’t see Sergei as a prostitute. He should have—it would’ve made it a lot easier to walk away when the time came—but he didn’t. Far from it.

Dom swallowed. “It goes both ways. If you want me…” He hesitated to finish the sentence. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear him say that wouldn’t be an issue. “Look, this doesn’t have to be one-sided.”

Sergei studied him, and then shrugged. “Well, I can’t say it’s been one-sided when we’ve hooked up.”

“But the hook-ups don’t have to always be at my whim. They can—”

Sergei kissed him. Not just a light kiss, or an attempt to shut him up. He kissed him hard—forcing his lips apart, curving his hand around the back of Dom’s neck, pulling the breath right out of him.

Dom didn’t protest. Screw talking if this was the alternative. He wrapped his arms around Sergei, and opened to his kiss without any resistance at all.

Sergei drew back enough to murmur, “Didn’t I tell you I’d fuck you again and make it hurt?”

Dom moaned against Sergei’s lips. “You did.”

“Uh-huh.” Sergei let him go. “Maybe you’d better get me a condom, then.”

Dom didn’t argue. They could talk about all this another time. For tonight, he had Sergei, and Sergei wanted to have him.

And Dom was definitely glad he’d brought plenty of condoms.

*              *              *

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Maisano?” Kirill, a middle-aged Russian widower and father of three, stared warily at Dom from the doorway.

“Yes, Kirill. Come in.”

The man took a timid step forward, and shut the door behind him. “Was there a problem with my payment?” Kirill’s accent was stronger than Sergei’s, but every syllable reminded Dom of the man he’d been with last night. “I made sure it was on time. Early, actually!”

“There’s no problem with your payment. Have a seat.”

Kirill did as he was told, and gripped the armrests tightly, knuckles blanching as if he were on the verge of a full-on panic attack. He was right to be nervous. After all, he was part of the complex racket that Dom’s family ran on the backs of Russian, Chinese, and Latin American immigrants. For a fee, the immigrant was given a job and, eventually, citizenship, but none of it came free. Not only were they required to work their fingers to the bone to pay down thousands of dollars in debt to the Mafia, but they were sworn to secrecy about their duties, which for an unfortunate few meant playing a dangerous role in smuggling cocaine through Cape Swan’s deceptively quiet marina. Once the person had worked off his debt to the family, he and his would be given their documents, all of which had been acquired through the proper, legal channels, but held until the debt was paid. It was something Dom could only think of as indentured servitude with a side of human trafficking.

Dom hated it. He hated his role in the whole thing. He hated being the one who’d send out soldiers to put the squeeze on anyone who wasn’t making regular payments, or those suspected of leaking information to the feds.