Page 145 of Rules to Love By

Neither could Johnathan. But then, Johnathan was a person, a thinking, feeling human being, and if he didn’t want to bother doing better, then maybe Eli was right. But Marcus was right too. He didn’t need the money. It had been earmarked to help someone else.

He had the diner and his apartment above it. He had enough to restore both spaces to the glory they deserved. He had his plans for the place, and that was enough.

Tris had gotten a healthy sum too, with the caveat that he was not to undertake any more risky sexual behavior. It wasn’t two million, but it was enough for him to settle into his skin and Griffon’s Elbow and not have to worry about how much the shelter paid him.

“That money is meant to help,” Marcus muttered.

Eli kissed his hair again.

Marcus knew him well enough by now to know he’d said his piece and wouldn’t say anything else about it. He trusted Marcus to make a good decision. The rules they’d woven into their relationship weren’t about how Marcus lived his life or what he did with his time or his money. They were about how they loved, and they worked.

Marcus sat up and turned to face Eli. “When the two years are up, I’m going to talk to Lucky and Madeline. If the money is still there, I’ll have her invest it. Roll it into their foundation. Lucky’s Landing can use it. Set up a scholarship fund for the kids. Something like that. Aunt Iris meant it to help Johnathan get on his feet. If he doesn’t want that hand up, there are plenty of people who would, and who deserve it a lot more, like you said.”

Eli took Marcus’s face in both his hands and kissed him until Marcus’s toes curled and he’d forgotten what he’d said to earn it.

“You are a brilliant, generous man,” Eli whispered into the kiss. “I love you so much right this moment I think I might explode.”

Marcus grinned, mouth still against Eli’s. “Well, we can’t have that.”

“Think we can get away with an afternoon quickie?”

“Mmm. It’s hard for me not to get loud.”

Eli pulled back and grinned wickedly. “I’m sure I can think of something to keep you quiet. Come on.” He stood, and Marcus followed him up, already stiffening in his jeans, ready to do anything Eli told him to.

And of course, Eli was right. On his knees in the middle of the bed, ass in the air and face in a pillow, his shouts were plenty muffled. Then later, in the shower, as he stroked himself at Eli’s bidding, all of his panting and groaning were lost behind Eli’s big hand covering his mouth.

“I could fuck you again right now,” Eli whispered into his ear. He held Marcus from behind, one hand covering his mouth to keep his sounds stifled and the other cupping his balls as Marcus frantically stroked his cock, trying to reach his peak.

Marcus whimpered, pushing his ass back against Eli’s groin. He’d always considered himself pretty resilient, but Eli’s power to bounce back after coming was sort of a superpower.

“You want me again?” Eli asked.

Marcus tried to nod, but Eli had his head locked down. He whimpered again and pushed back again.

Eli tugged at his balls a few times while he gyrated his hips, erection growing and poking between Marcus’s thighs. The pain was exquisite. Marcus’s hand on his dick faltered. They’d learned early on that the distraction of a bit of pain—his hair pulled, his balls squeezed, his nipples pinched—kept Marcus out of his head, in the moment, and away from the anxiety that twisted his guts.

“Spread your legs,” Eli demanded.

Marcus complied instantly.

“Hands off your dick.”

He flattened both palms against the shower wall.

Quickly, Eli lubed his hole with fast, strong fingers and pushed into him. More pain. Mild, but there. Sweet counterpart to the fullness. When Eli thrust deep, his aim was impeccable, and Marcus keened. The sound echoed off the tiles.

“Shit,” he whispered. “Too loud.” His insides ground with remembered shame, and he closed his eyes, trying to stave it off, to focus on the pleasure and not worry who heard him or what they thought.

Eli’s teeth pinched skin at the junction of his neck and shoulder, and he cried out again. More thrusting, right against his prostate, and he was juddering, wordless, legs wobbling, mixed-up feelings forgotten as the sharp sting from teeth and the firecracker pleasure of cock shot lightning bolts through his brain.

He came, both hands still on the wall, Eli still pumping, showershushingdown over them and steaming up the room.

Snaking fingers into his curls, Eli yanked his head back and sucked at his neck, with his teeth, tongue and lips pinching up skin, sucking blood to the surface, fiercely marking him in so obvious a way, no one would miss it. When he marked him inside—again—that was just for them. That was a possession only they needed to know about.

Marcus’s arms shook as he held himself off the wall, holding Eli up as well, as his lover collapsed against him, breathing hard.

“Okay?” Eli mumbled.

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