In the following weeks, nothing really changed—and yet, at the same time everything did.
Aiden’s days still started and ended with Zain; that hadn’t changed. They still didn’t seem capable of being in the same room without fucking like animals in mating season—that hadn’t changed, either.
But things felt different.
Now that he knew that Zain was working on getting him back home, something in Aiden finally relaxed. It was going to be okay. He was going to see his family soon. He was going to be a free person, not a possession of another man. This… this infatuation was still horrible and unhealthy as fuck, but now it had an expiration date.
So Aiden decided to stop feeling guilty for enjoying himself. He allowed himself to kiss and touch Zain whenever he wanted to—and he wanted it often. Probably too often. Even when they weren’t having sex.
“I don’t have time to fuck you,” Zain said that day, without looking away from the screen of his laptop.
Aiden laid his head on Zain’s shoulder and sighed dramatically.
“Get off my lap, Aiden.”
“But I’m not doing anything,” Aiden said, playing with the collar of Zain’s white tunic. He wasn’t wearing a thobe that day, and although being so dressed down looked a little unusual on him, he looked good enough to eat. Aiden could barely stop himself from covering his strong, tanned neck and jawline in kisses.
“You’re a distraction,” Zain said, his eyes on the screen. The hand that wasn’t on the touchpad moved to Aiden’s lower back, absently pulling him closer.
Aiden was this close to purring. He loved being close to this man. It was somehow both exhilarating and comforting. And yet it still wasn’t enough. “Are you sure you can’t spare a few minutes to fuck me? You won’t even have to prep me. I’m still loose and sloppy with your come and lube.”
Zain’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “That’s disgusting,” he said, his hand sliding lower, under Aiden’s shorts. He pushed two fingers into Aiden’s hole, and Aiden moaned approvingly. He was still loose and slick from their morning sex, and his hole took Zain’s fingers with ease. There was still plenty of lube.
“You really are wet,” Zain said, as if commenting on the weather, his eyes on the screen.
His fingers were still in Aiden’s asshole. And the bastard wasn’t doing anything with them.
“You’re a dick,” Aiden said. He didn’t intend for it to come out so fond.
The corner of Zain’s mouth twitched. It was a small smile, but it took Aiden’s breath away.
God, Aiden wanted to swallow him inside himself.
Which… Okay, sometimes his own thoughts creeped him out.
He might not be able to swallow Zain into himself, but there was always the next best thing: his cock.
“Let’s fuck,” Aiden murmured, palming the sizable bulge under Zain’s pants. “I’ll be quick, and then you can go back to your boring Excel. I want to have your cock back inside me.”
Zain let out a sigh, but Aiden wasn’t fooled: Zain’s cock wasn’t exactly uninterested in the proposition.
“I really am busy, Aiden,” he said, but Aiden knew him, knew that Zain would just kick him out if he really wanted to.
Beaming, Aiden pecked him on the cheek. “I’ll be quick, I promise!”
He pulled out Zain’s cock, humming appreciatively at how hard it already was.
“I love your cock,” Aiden said, stroking it a few times. “I wanna have it in me all the time.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Zain said, looking pained. “Who even says stuff like that outside of bad gay porn?”
Aiden grinned. “Are you saying you’ve watched gay porn? Yeah, you’re totally straight!”
Zain glowered at him. He pulled his fingers out and looked back at the screen, as if he didn’t give a damn what Aiden was doing and wasn’t all that interested in getting off.
“You’re so silly with your homophobia, you know,” Aiden said, lining up Zain’s erection with his hole. “Sex is just sex. It’s about making yourself feel good. It makes you feel good to put your cock in my asshole. Period. Stop being weird about it. Ohh—doesn’t this feel as good to you? This feels so damn amazing. Your cock, filling me up.”
“Stop talking,” Zain bit off, staring at the screen of his laptop. “You take cock like a seasoned whore with a sloppy cunt.”
Aiden half-moaned, half-laughed, clutching his wide shoulders for leverage. “You do realize that I love it when you call me offensive things, right? Call me a cockslut, a whore, call my hole a cunt—it only turns me on.”
“Because you’re shameless,” Zain said, finally looking—glaring—at him, his gaze intense and utterly fixated. As bewitched as Aiden felt.
Aiden smiled at him dazedly, feeling drunk on the heady want that thrummed in the air between them.
“I’m going to miss this,” he said, pushing down on Zain’s cock.
“Miss what?” Zain said, his eyes roaming over Aiden’s face.
This addicting intensity. You. The way you make me feel.
“Your cock,” Aiden said lightly. “I didn’t know what I was missing out on. It’s a good thing it’s much easier to find cock back home than here—”
Zain threw him onto his desk, yanked his legs wide, and slammed into him.
Aiden cried out, staring at him wide-eyed, as Zain’s mask of indifference shattered, revealing something half-crazed and feral. He could only take it as Zain pounded into him like a man possessed, like a beast staking his claim, all cock and animal want.
Aiden barely registered his own orgasm, his eyes fixated on Zain as the older man pulled out and came all over him: his face, his clothes and his softening cock.
Breathing hard, they stared at each other for a long, stunned moment.
Slowly, Zain’s mask of indifference slipped back into place.
“Leave,” he said, returning to his chair. “I have work to do.”
Aiden fixed his clothes with trembling fingers and left.
He barely remembered getting to his room.
He walked to the mirror and touched the smear of come on his cheek. A mark of ownership. He shivered, remembering the crazed look in Zain’s eyes: dark, possessive, and toxic.
He should run. Run very far away. He shouldn’t wait for Zain to get him out of the country. After what he had seen on Zain’s face, he wasn’t at all sure Zain would ever let him go.
He wasn’t sure he’d have the strength to go.
Because the horrifying truth was, part of him didn’t care that this sort of possessiveness was more than a little disturbing.
Part of him felt thrilled.
