Page 54 of Deviant Need

“I’m going to come,” I gasp.

He pops off and wraps his hand around me, jerking me fast and messy while watching my cock with pure fascination.

My cock goes impossibly hard in his grip, and then I’m coming, hot spurts shooting across my stomach and chest. He pushes his finger in slightly, just past the first ring of muscle, and the added intensity makes everything too much. More cum sprays out of me, coating my abs and the mattress beneath me, and I can’t stop shaking.

He crawls back up my body and hovers over me, his mouth finds mine again, slow and consuming this time, lazy kisses. When he pulls back, he rolls onto his side and lets out a shaky exhale, dragging me against him. His hand comes up to grip my chin.

What did we just do?

He’s going to have his freak out any second now. He’s going to push me away and never speak to me again, and I’ll have ruined the one thing that matters most to me.

I keep staring at him, and he looks back at me in confusion.

“You’re not panicking?” I search his face desperately, looking for hesitation, for regret, for the inevitable rejection.

“Are you?” he counters, studying me with those blue eyes.

“Yes.”

“Stop it.” His hand tightens on my chin. “We forget about everything else while we’re here. No pulling away.”

“I—I—” I try to sit up, but he pushes me back down, pinning me with his weight and his grip.

“Stop freaking out, alright? Jesus.” His voice softens slightly. “Let’s just talk about it instead.”

“I just—we were raised as brothers.” My throat feels tight. “What we did is⁠—”

“I know,” he cuts me off. “But I enjoyed it. A lot, in case you couldn’t tell.”

I blink up at him in surprise. “You did? You’re straight.”

“I’ve never thought about another guy before. Ever.” He pauses. “I’ve never been attracted to them. But I had fun. Your mouth destroyed me.” He leans down and kisses my forehead gently. “I mean, yeah, I still think I’m straight. But I don’t know, I’m not going to overthink this. Overthinking things makes people go crazy, and I’m already halfway there, so why speed up the process?”

My mouth falls open, then closes again.

He’s always been like this, jumping headfirst into things without thinking about consequences. Everything he does is impulsive with no filter and no control. Once when we were kids on a trip back to Russia, we were at this lake, and Yulian dared me to dive in. I was too scared. Mikhail jumped first to prove it was safe and broke his arm and got a nasty concussion.

“You said something about loving the size difference in guys,” he says suddenly. “What did you mean?”

“I don’t know,” I say, because there’s only one specific guy I like and he’s lying here right now. My eyes drift down to take him in. His eight-pack, the scars scattered across his body, his muscular frame, the tattoos covering his skin. My thumb comes up and traces along his family motto tattooed on his throat. “I just want someone who can manhandle me.”

“Manhandle you?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Someone stronger than me,” I say, feeling embarrassed.

I watch his face process that information. He goes quiet for a moment, and for a second, I think I see something sad flicker across his features, but it’s gone before I can be sure.

“Well. I can definitely do that.”

My breath catches.

“Misha—”

“I’m not saying I understand what this is,” he interrupts me. “Or what it means. But I know I don’t want you pulling away from me again. I liked what we just did. And I know I want to do it again.”

“You want to do it again?” My heart hammers against my ribs.

“I do,” he says, and leans down and presses his mouth to mine, soft and claiming. When he pulls back, his eyes are dark. “Do you want that?”