Zain strode into the house, anger and frustration quickening his steps. Seeing his father rarely put him in a good mood, but that family dinner had been more frustrating than usual.
Gadiel had been sulking all evening, refusing to talk to any of them. Omar was of no use, despite being the crown prince—his attitude in life was to be as agreeable and obedient around their father as possible, so he never interfered, even though Zain suspected that he was aware of their youngest brother’s inclinations. Zain had had to be the one to deflect their father’s attention—and criticism—toward himself before the brat gave himself away and managed to get himself killed.
Unfortunately, Zain wasn’t much better at reining his temper in where their father was concerned.
Sheikh Mustafa ibn Mohammed Al Rahim wasn’t an easy man, never had been. Some fathers—some other fathers—might have been proud that their son was a highly respected businessman with a fortune that far exceeded their own. Not Mustafa. A control freak like him didn’t like how little control he had over Zain’s life. If Mustafa had his way, Zain would have already been married to Al Sharabi’s daughter.
Zain’s lips thinned, a twinge of guilt twisting his stomach as it did every time he was reminded that Gadiel’s bride had been supposed to be his. Zain was the one Mustafa had wanted to offer for Sheikh Al Sharabi’s daughter. His father hadn’t exactly been happy when Zain had point-blank refused to marry the girl. He had no desire to marry someone chosen by his father, a girl thirteen years his junior.
You have no issue fucking a boy eleven years your junior.
Zain’s jaw tightened, his mood taking a turn for the worse as he quickened his steps.
The boy was… He didn’t count. He was just a convenient hole to use. Nothing more. Nothing.
Zain came to a sudden halt, realizing where his feet had brought him.
He was standing in front of Aiden’s room, not his own.
He stared at the door in frustration, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn away. This was where his body wanted to be after that clusterfuck of an evening. This was what his body itched for—to bury itself in Aiden’s sweet body and soft, eager mouth and forget all the problems and frustrations of the evening.
It was useless fighting this. He would only end up tossing and turning in his bed if he denied himself this. He could walk away. But why should he? Aiden was his.
Zain pushed the door open.
The room was empty.
His heart beating faster, Zain scanned the room with his eyes. Where would he be at this hour?
Quashing the irrational urge to wake up all of his employees and force them to find Aiden for him, Zain turned and headed to his room. He’d probably fallen asleep in another room. Nothing to worry about. Zain didn’t need to see him tonight. He was in control of himself. His cock didn’t control him.
Zain approached his bedroom—the door was already open—and went still.
Aiden was sleeping in his bed.
After a moment, Zain closed the door, slowly walked forward, and stopped by Aiden’s side.
The boy was stretched out on his stomach, his arm hugging the pillow. He was only wearing a pair of shorts, which wasn’t surprising. He constantly complained about the heat, unused to the local climate. His cheek was slightly pink—he must have been spending too much time outside again. His long eyelashes fluttered against the pale, fragile skin below his eyes. His lips were parted, a little wet and soft-looking.
Zain dragged his eyes away. But his gaze fell to the graceful slope of Aiden’s shoulders and back, covered in hickeys—the ones he’d given him when he fucked him—and then lingered on the round, firm ass hugged by the thin gray shorts.
Zain grimaced and took a deep breath, trying to will his arousal away. It didn’t work. It never did when it came to this—this unnatural, infuriating attraction. It sickened him, how wrong wrong wrong this was, and yet he could do nothing to eradicate it.
The low hum of frustration that had buzzed under his skin since dinner didn’t help, either. He wanted relief. He wanted to bury himself in Aiden and take out his frustration on him.
You can, a voice said at the back of his mind. He’s yours. Yours to do whatever you want. Yours yours yours.
Zain gritted his teeth, trying to block it out of his mind. It was useless. Something about Aiden brought out his worst qualities. Greed. Possessiveness. Selfishness. And uncontrollable, animal lust. Lust for another man.
Had he been a more devoted Muslim, he would have been more guilt-ridden and ashamed. The guilt and shame were still there, but they had little to do with his religious beliefs and more to do with his lack of self-control. He did believe in Allah. He didn’t believe that Allah cared that much about where he put his cock.
His abysmal lack of self-control was the bigger issue.
Had he been able to control this unnatural attraction, he’d have let his brother have him—the brat might do something very inadvisable any day now because of his pent-up sexual frustration and immaturity.
But he hadn’t been able to control his illogical possessiveness. He hadn’t been able to allow another man to touch what his body considered his.
Looking back, Zain even found himself questioning his decision to buy Aiden. It had been too impulsive. He’d gone to that party to meet a business associate. He’d certainly had no intention of buying Gadiel a sex pet—until he saw Aiden kneeling on the podium. The boy had looked so vulnerable and lost—and so unbearably pretty, all golden and light, his skin soft and smooth. Zain could barely look at him, yet he couldn’t look away. He knew he had to buy him. For Gadiel. Or so he’d convinced himself.
That had been his first mistake.
Except he didn’t regret that mistake. Just the thought of another man buying Aiden made him nauseated and unreasonably angry. Aiden made him unreasonable, period.
He should never have touched Aiden. That had been his second mistake.
Not that Zain was the only one to blame for this mess. Aiden was a manipulative little menace, with all his soft, doe-eyed looks and I want yous. Zain wasn’t born yesterday. He knew when he was being manipulated, even if Aiden had chosen a bizarre way to do it.
Except knowing that he was being manipulated didn’t necessarily mean he wasn’t affected by it. Unfortunately.
Sighing, Zain undressed to his boxer briefs and got into the bed.
He considered kicking Aiden out of it—he had no business being in his room—but to Zain’s distaste, he couldn’t deny that a part of him very much liked finding his—the boy waiting for him in his bed, all soft and warm and his for the taking.
Frowning at the predictable direction of his thoughts, Zain watched his hand touch Aiden’s lower back. The contrast of his darker hand against the pale skin was fascinating. It was another reminder that Aiden was from a different world. He didn’t belong here.
But he still belonged to him.
Zain watched his hand tug Aiden’s shorts off, revealing his ass to his hungry gaze.
Being undressed didn’t wake Aiden. He was a heavy sleeper. He’d once slept through Zain fucking him, waking up only when he came on Zain’s cock.
“Figures you’d be into somnophilia,” he had grumbled afterward, rolling his eyes. “You pervert.”
Zain wasn’t into somnophilia—at least he hadn’t been. But there was something about using Aiden while he was sleeping so peacefully that made his heart speed up and his cock harder than it had ever been. The absolute rush it gave him was disturbing on several levels that had nothing to do with a sexual kink and everything to do with his insane, unhealthy possessiveness. The desire to use this young man like a thing and own him, totally.
Damn it, how he despised it. He despised the way Aiden knew exactly what to say to lead him by his cock. I’m yours. Your thing. I love it when you use me. You can use me whenever you want.
Just remembering Aiden’s words made him so hard it was uncomfortable, his body burning with the primitive need to fuck, to take.
He stared—glared—at Aiden’s round, bare buttocks for minutes before eventually losing the battle with himself and groping them greedily, kneading the plump flesh. Aiden made a small sigh-like noise but didn’t wake up.
Zain spread Aiden’s cheeks and stared at the pink, tiny hole between them, his mouth going dry.
Although this had been going on for months, he’d never touched Aiden more than necessary. The sex was always fast and urgent, just a means to get off and relieve the tension between them.
Aiden’s hole was nowhere near as attractive as a pussy. It was just an asshole. Zain didn’t want to lick it. That would be disgusting and unnatural.
But he could spit on it.
Spit inside Aiden.
The thought made his cock throb, and Zain palmed it absentmindedly before leaning in and spitting on Aiden’s hole.
The jolt of arousal he felt from seeing—making—Aiden’s hole wet was ridiculously strong. Zain leaned in even closer, so close that his jaw pressed against Aiden’s smooth cheeks. He rubbed his stubble against the soft skin, wanting to leave marks, something Aiden would feel for days.
He spit on his hole again. He missed, his spit ending up a little lower down from Aiden’s hole.
All right, he’d just have to push it toward his hole.
Zain used his tongue to do it, pushing his spit into Aiden’s tight little hole. There was a roar in his ears, his body nearly shaking with arousal as he thrust his tongue into the boy’s hole, again and again.
Aiden moaned, squirming in his grip. “Zain? What are you—oh god—ah—ah—ah—oh god, don’t stop…”
Zain pushed his tongue deeper, so deep his jaw started aching, but he didn’t give a fuck. He wanted to leave his mark as deep inside Aiden as possible before doing the same with his cock. The slutty, wanton sounds Aiden was making only spurred him on, making him more greedy, more aggressive as he fucked him with his tongue.
Before long, Aiden was sobbing and pushing back onto his tongue, like the little slut he was. Of course he wanted more. He always did. His eagerness should have been disgusting—they both were men, it was wrong, it should have felt more wrong—but it was like a heady drug.
“Please—cock—your cock—give it to me…”
Zain shoved his boxer briefs down and pulled his cock out. Reaching for the lube in the drawer, he quickly slicked up his aching cock before moving over Aiden’s body. He pushed into him in one smooth, long thrust, groaning in relief. This was exactly what he’d been craving all evening. This.
Aiden sobbed out, arching his back obscenely, his hole squeezing him impossibly tight. Zain swore under his breath and buried his face against Aiden’s nape, his hips already thrusting hard and fast. He despised this, despised how little control he had over his body, becoming a mindless animal every time he put his cock into this boy. It was absolutely maddening. He bit hard on Aiden’s neck, wanting to punish him, punish him for being the way he was, as if he were created perfectly wrong to bring out Zain’s worst qualities and turn him into this. A rutting animal that thought with his cock.
He fucked Aiden so hard the bed started shaking, the headboard slamming against the wall with each thrust. Part of him wondered if his staff could hear them. If they knew who he was fucking in his room. Instead of alarming him, the thought just pushed his arousal higher. Irrationally, he wanted everyone to know. He wanted everyone to know how much Aiden loved taking his cock, his—
Zain nearly came and had to stop thrusting, breathing hard.
This was ridiculous. What had happened to his stamina? He felt as if he were an eager, green boy and not a grown man with nearly two decades of experience.
Aiden was whimpering desperately. “Don’t stop—I wanna come…”
“You will get to come only when I let you,” Zain said, mouthing the sweaty skin at Aiden’s nape. “And not a moment sooner.”
Aiden shivered. “I hate you,” he said with feeling.
A fresh wave of arousal washed over Zain’s body, blood rushing to his cock.
There was something very wrong with him.
“How much?” Zain said hoarsely into Aiden’s ear, breathing in his scent deeply. It should have been unpleasant, another man’s sweat. It wasn’t. He couldn’t get enough.
Whining, Aiden turned his head, rubbing their cheeks together. “Don’t be an asshole.”
“How much do you hate me?” Zain said, biting his earlobe.
Aiden moaned, clenching around Zain’s cock. “I could fucking kill you right now. That much.”
There was something heady about it, about how much Aiden must have wanted him if he was that desperate for him, despite hating him. It went straight to his cock.
Zain slipped his hand down and gripped it around the base of Aiden’s erection. “Now tell me who you belong to.”
Aiden whimpered, thrashing beneath him. “Go to hell.”
“I’m waiting,” Zain said, stroking Aiden’s leaking cock with his other hand.
Aiden groaned, “You! I belong to you!”
Zain shuddered, and to his exasperation, he found himself unable to remain still, his hips already moving, thrusting hard into Aiden’s tight hole, his grip still firm around the base of Aiden’s cock. His. He was his.
“Please—Zain—”
“Please what?” Zain said into his ear, licking it. It was probably messed up how much he loved hearing Aiden beg. It had never been his thing. Until Aiden. He wanted Aiden to beg. He wanted him to be desperate for him. He wanted Aiden to need him like he needed air to breathe.
Fuck, his own thoughts weirded him out. What was happening to him?
Aiden turned his head, kissing Zain’s jaw desperately despite the awkward angle. “I want you. Let me come. Come in me—fill me up. Want you to fill me up.”
He nearly came on the spot.
Pulling out, Zain flipped Aiden onto his back before slamming into him again.
Aiden cried out, his arms wrapping around Zain’s shoulders, fingers digging into his shoulder blades. He looked obscene, his hazel eyes glazed, his pretty lips parted and bitten red. Unable to resist, Zain leaned down and kissed him, his cock pounding hard into Aiden’s hole without any rhythm or restraint. He detested this, detested how out of control he felt, the need to fuck, to own, to claim, like a red haze filling his vision. He wanted—he wanted—
They came together, kissing messily and groaning into each other’s mouths.
Damn you, Zain thought, their foreheads pressed together as they breathed like they’d run a marathon.
“This was so good,” Aiden whispered hoarsely, looking at him with a soft, dreamy expression in his eyes.
Zain wanted to kiss him everywhere.
The desire was paralyzing—because it had nothing to do with his cock.
And right then, he knew with absolute certainty that this couldn’t continue.
He needed to get rid of Aiden, and soon.
While he still could.
