His Move

Kade POV

I don't know why I'm hesitating, I came here because I wanted this. Pushing away the doubts, I reach up, grabbing the back of his neck and dragging him down until our mouths meet, and the second my lips crash against his, Darren takes control, his hand fists into my shirt. He yanks me closer, his body heat pressing into mine. The whiskey on his breath mixes with mine, and the taste of it is sharp between us. I expect him to ease into it, to test the waters, but he doesn’t, he isn't waiting around for any other sign of confirmation, he has everything he wants.

He devours me. His teeth scrape my bottom lip, tugging just enough to make my breath stutter my body reacts instantly and his tongue flicks against mine, demanding more and consuming me.

I don’t hesitate, I meet him with the same intensity. My body pushes his back against the bar while my hands grip the front of his shirt, dragging him closer to me.

Darren exhales a quiet chuckle against my mouth, like he’s amused by my urgency, by the way I can’t seem to slow down. But I don’t care. My skin is burning, my pulse erratic, and all I can focus on is the way he moves against me. All I want is to be devoured, to have everything in my mind disappear, even just for a moment.

His fingers slip under my shirt, slowly sliding up my muscles, tracing the lines of them, his touch is firm. He presses me back, guiding me toward the bed with slow and steady steps. I don’t stop him. I let him take me there. His body pushes mine onto the bed as he bites against my lip harder.

Slowly, his fingers curl around the waistband of my jeans, his smirk still in place, but there’s something darker behind his eyes now, something deliberate, I don't give myself chance to consider it. The cool air hits my skin as he drags them down, slow, watching me like he’s waiting for me to second-guess myself.

There's no second-guessing, I lift my hips, letting him strip them off completely.

“Not shy, are you?” he muses, his hands gripping my thighs, sliding up, teasing but firm. 

I exhale sharply. "I wouldn’t be here if I was.” That's the truth, I wouldn't be near him, near this room if I was.

He shifts back up my body while laughing quietly. I feel his body pressing into mine, his mouth moves against my neck and my jaw as his hands stroke along my body. It feels like he's trying to memorise every part of me. My head falls back against the pillow, and I let myself sink into the heat of his touch, the way his hands and mouth feel as they pull me apart piece by piece.

My body arches up into him, desperate for more of him. My hands lift, and I drag my fingers down his back, feeling his muscles shifting as he moves against me. My hands grip his hips, pulling him closer, and I gasp at the friction as I feel his hardness pressing against my own through the denim of his jeans. 

His lips crash onto mine, hungry and insistent. Darren kisses like he’s trying to devour me, all teeth and tongue and urgency. I match his pace, pouring weeks of anger, frustration and desire that I hid into every movement of my lips against his.

Suddenly Darren pulls back, his chest heaving as he looks down at me, his eyes are dark and hooded. He says nothing, just stands and deliberately removes the rest of his clothing. My eyes drink in the sight of him, lean muscle, golden skin, and I'm glad I came here. 

Slowly, he moves back onto the bed, his body covering mine. The feel of his skin against mine sends heat coursing through me, we kiss again, but this time slower. It's still just as passionate, and I run my hands along the muscles of his back as he begins to move. He grinds against me in a maddening rhythm. 

Grasping into his mouth, I groan as Darren slides his hand between our bodies. He wraps his fingers around our lengths and strokes us against each other. My hips buck involuntarily as his hand moves quicker, we're already slick with both of our arousals. The dual sensation of his length sliding against mine, and his hand working us together is almost overwhelming. 

His lips drag down my neck, biting as his warm breath teases me. 

The sound of a door swinging open is loud, followed by a sharp click and a flash of light. 

Darren instantly jolts upright, and my body tenses. My instinct kicks in too late as I whip my head toward the doorway, my eyes blinking against the sudden burst of light. It was a camera, a fucking camera!

And the man holding it, standing there looking smug, has my stomach drop, my entire body going cold and rigid. Nikolai Volkov. 

Shit. 

Nikolai stands just inside the room, his phone in his hand and his face is unreadable, except for the slight, knowing smirk that curls at the edges of his lips. Darren moves quickly, pushing up onto his knees, his body still half-draped over mine. "What the fuck?" he shouts.

Nikolai though, doesn't answer, hell he doesn't even look at Darren, his gaze is fixed on me. It's slow and calculating. 

“You don’t waste time, do you, Mercer?” His voice is smooth and amused, like he’s not standing here with the kind of evidence that could rip my entire career apart.