Page 28 of Astaroth
Aster nodded curtly. “Yes, it’s your choice. You do have a say. Fuck them.” He grabbed Briar’s quivering fingertips and squeezed. “And yes, they’ve taken enough.”
“I don’t want to feel this way anymore,” he whispered. “I’m tired, Aster. I’m tired of waiting for a few feathers to give me hope.”
“Theywillgrow back.”
“I want to believe you.”
“You’re allowed to be selfish. You don’t belong to the High Court, you don’t belong to me, you only belong to you. We both know there are other medics. Uriel and Michael can try to manipulate the situation, but if that child dies, it won’t be your fault. It will be theirs.”
Briar dropped his forehead onto Aster’s shoulder. “I feel responsible.”
“You aren’t.”
“I know, but still.”
Aster heaved a sigh. “Where do we go from here?”
“The shower,” he said, weakly.
“We’re done talking, then?”
“For now.”
“Will you look at me?”
Briar lifted his head.
Aster’s big hands cradled his jaw, fingers light on either side of his neck. He smelled like horse and pine. “You’re safe here. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, I know,” Briar said. His chest fluttered, as it always did when Aster met his eyes for too long. He brushed his mouth over Aster’s chin, teasing at his lips. “Would you have fought for me, Great Duke? Challenged Uriel in my honor?”
“I would’ve punched him directly in the face,” Aster said, the same way someone would sayobviously, and laughed under his breath. “No, I wouldn’t havechallengedhim. I would’ve kicked his ass.”
Briar tipped his head back and laughed, warming in the presence of Aster’s hypnotic, youthful voice, and his ridiculous,human dialect. He sighed through lingering chuckles. “You sound like a teenager.”
“Would you rather I speak with dignity, darling?”
“Speak however you want,” Briar said, and blushed terribly. He pushed against Aster, nudging him toward the door. He wanted to get him upstairs, into the shower. He wanted to keep the lights off. Find him in the dark, naked and soaking wet.
Aster lit a single candle. The light bent and bounced, landing on the black tile and beaming through the steam. Outside the washroom, the house energized again. Briar heard Sam come through the front door. The jingle of ornaments. Laughter and music. But his focus remained solely on Aster.
They fucked with Briar’s palms pressed against the tile. He rested his forehead on the wet surface, standing on shaky legs after Aster had gone down on him, fingered him open, and shoved him against the wall. Hot breath hit the back of his neck. Aster’s chest bumped his clippings, mostly healed over with new, delicate flesh, and he gripped Briar’s wrists hard, holding them beside his head. Aster wasn’t careful with him. He bit and sucked at Briar’s nape. His hips snapped roughly. The sound of their bodies meeting filled the shower, along with the splattering water and Briar’s hoarse moans.
Everything faded—worries, fear, anxiety—replaced by animalistic pleasure. Briar arched his back. Flexed his hands. Curled his knuckles until they paled. Fullness sat heavy in his groin, thickening with every quick stroke. Aster let his wrists go and grabbed his throat, a sudden movement, causing Briar’s pulse to double, his head to spin, his orgasm to take him by surprise. He gasped as Aster crowded him against the wall, thrusting harder, breathing faster, and when Briar reached backward to find him, to touch him, Aster snatched his hand, slamming it above his head. Briar felt Aster’s release, atrembling heat deep inside him, and memorized the hitch in his breath, the vulnerability ringing in his gritted moan.
Aster loosened his grip and guided Briar into a messy kiss. Briar rested his temple on the tile. His body hummed, satiated and limp. They stayed like that, lips hungry and lazy, until Aster pulled out and buried his fingers inside Briar, stroking his swollen, sensitive skin. Briar squirmed. Whimpered. His knees threatened to buckle, but he gave Aster his weight, sank his teeth into the Great Duke’s wrist, and allowed another wave of painful, blissful pleasure to wash over him. His cock strained, leaking and twitching.
“Enough,” Briar choked out, muscles clenched, holding onto hot, aching pulses. “Please,enough.”
Carefully, Aster pulled away. His lips dusted Briar’s flushed cheek. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, just. . . just dazed. You brute,” he said, laughing under his breath.
Aster purred, proudly.
“Did Clementine actually murder her husband?” Briar asked. Somehow, he hadn’t stopped wondering.
Aster nipped his shoulder. “Yes. He left their baby in a hot car. Tragic, really, but according to local law enforcement, an accident. Clementine didn’t agree.”
