Brooklyn Sinners 3 -A Sinner Born (13 page)

Syren tensed.
“Relax. I’ve got you.” Kane nipped first one butt cheek then the other, stroking all the while. A finger traced his crack then circled his hole.
Syren fisted his hands and kept his face in the pillow, his eyes firmly shut. The pressure in his chest grew and grew, drawing tighter. Cold chills broke out on his skin. Please. No.
“One day I’ll taste you here.” An oiled finger pushed into him. “One day.”
He heard the words, but their meaning was drowned out by the blood rushing in his ears. Images cycled through his head, none of them pleasant, none of them kind, yet all of them carried a pain and darkness he wished he could escape. No matter where he went they found him.
He shook under the force of all those memories, his teeth chattering loudly.
“Hey. Hey.” A palm slid over the small of his back. Kane’s voice was calm and soothing, but his finger was still inside Syren, sliding deeper. “Stay with me. Listen to my voice. Feel me touch you.” He pushed in another oiled finger.
Syren winced at the burn. “Kane.”
“I know.” Kane moved the fingers back and forth. “I know this brings bad memories, but we can create good ones.” He sank the two fingers all the way in then curved them. His knuckles pressed against something magnetic that had Syren gasping. “Better ones.” He pressed against that spot again and Syren’s shudder this time was one of pure pleasure.
“Yes,” Kane spoke to him in that low, gravelly tone. “Stay with me here. Know who’s touching you.” He paused and added another finger, stretching Syren with three thick digits. “Say my name.”
Syren breathed through the burn, eyes open and locked on the mahogany headboard.
“Say my name,” Kane spoke again. He scissored the fingers and nipped Syren’s right ass cheek.
“Ahh. Kane.” Syren found himself pushing back, searching for those fingers, lifting his hips to wiggle on them.
“Good. That’s it,” Kane whispered at the base of his spine. “Say it again.” His tongue slid down Syren’s crack and licked around the fingers he had embedded in Syren.
“Oh fuck. Kane. Kane.” He was going to combust. Lifting his lower half off the bed, Syren fisted his cock, tugging on it. “Kane.”
Kane’s fingers slowly slid out then Syren found himself pinned to the bed, face mashed into the mattress. No. No. No. The memories came, fast and cold. Drenching him in darkness. He saw the ten-year-old he used to be, captive, helpless, brutalized. Not again. He fought back, kicking, punching the air. He was bigger now. Stronger now. He could fight back.
“Listen to my voice.” Kane was at his ear, whispering to him. “Listen to me. Stay with me.”
Syren couldn’t, not when those images in his head remained. Not when they prevented him from having a normal life.
“We’re making new memories,” Kane said patiently. He pressed his front to Syren’s back and his cock nestled in the cleft of Syren’s ass. “Feel me. I’m touching you and nothing about this is wrong, nothing about it is bad.”
Syren’s cries dipped to whimpers.
“I want you.” Kane kissed his neck. “I want to make love to you, take you, fuck you when you’re ready.” He rocked into Syren, his shaft sliding up and down his cleft.
Jesus.

“You get me so fucking hard. Your skin and your eyes and those sexy panties,” Kane growled. “You make me forget I’m not supposed to care about anyone else.” His voice caught on the last word, emotion heavy in his tone.

“We’re both making new memories, so stay with me,” Kane begged as he rocked his cock in the oily valley of Syren’s crack. “Don’t let them win, don’t let the bad memories win.”

Syren lifted his head. “Kane.”
“Yes, it’s me.” Kane grabbed him by the jaw and kissed him, deep and thorough. “New memories.” He smiled down at Syren with red-rimmed eyes. “Let’s make some more.” He rolled off Syren and sat at the edge of the bed. “Come here.” He patted his lap.
Syren crawled over to him, not to look alluring, but because he didn’t think he’d be able to stand. Kane held up a condom. “Take control. Ride me.”
“What?” Syren gaped at him. “I don’t want to take control. I’m always in control.”
“No, you’re not.” Kane pulled him onto his lap and positioned Syren until Kane’s cock was teasing at his entrance. “You’re not in control sexually and you need to be, even if it’s this once.” He tore open the condom and rolled it on as Syren watched in fascination.
He had so much to learn.
“Here.” Kane held out a tube of lube and Syren took it. He squeezed a generous amount onto Kane then dropped the lube onto the bed and grasped Kane’s shaft firmly, massaging the lube into the condom.
His eyes were on his task but Kane’s breath was loud and ragged as he pushed into Syren’s touch.
“Okay.” Kane held him aloof as he positioned his cock to Syren’s entrance. “Look at me.”
Syren did with his lip between his teeth.
“See who’s inside you, who’s loving you,” Kane murmured.
His cock pressed into Syren who pushed down.
Kane’s lashes fluttered. “Goddamn.”
The burn brought the sting of tears to Syren’s eyes, but he held Kane’s gaze as he sank down even more.
“You feel—fuck—you feel like heaven.”
A tear slid down Syren’s cheek. It was happening and he hadn’t lost his mind or jumped out of his skin. The pain was immense, the stretch and burn unavoidable, but he sank down on Kane until his ass met the top of his lover’s thighs. A smile wobbled on his lips.
“You’re inside me.” No small amount of wonder colored those words.
Kane sank his fingers into Syren’s hair and leaned forward. “I’m inside you and you’re still in control.” His pupils were dilated, cheekbones flushed bright, but he smiled sweetly. “You set the pace, you take what you need.”
“You.” Syren wrapped his legs around Kane, hooking his ankles behind him on the bed. “I need you.”
Kane’s lips hovered over his. “Then take me.” He mashed their mouths together.
Syren clung to him and rocked back and forth, testing. His movements sent zings of heat and pleasure to his groin and lower belly. He did it again and faster, rocking back and forth and up and down as Kane sucked on his mouth like a man in need of sustenance. Between their writhing bodies Syren’s cock rubbed on the satin hardness of Kane’s stomach, drooling pre-cum, painting him with it and sticking them together.
Maybe later he’d be able to process what Kane did, claiming him and controlling him by giving Syren the power, but now, right now, the thick cock inside him was hitting secret places, making him see stars. He moaned into Kane’s mouth, fingers twisting into his hair. There was no pace to set, just the flow of their joined bodies straining together, doing what came naturally. Kane thrust up into him, the jolts of electricity making him pant and his chest heave.
Nothing had prepared him for pleasure like he was experiencing, nothing prepared him for experiencing it with Kane. Syren was glad. He’d never shared this with anyone before and he knew as Kane reached between them and stroked him firmly he’d never share this moment with anyone else.
This was all about him and Kane. About him once again daring to dream of a future beyond the life he led at the moment. A sob caught in his throat and he also made note to be embarrassed about crying like a fucking teenage girl. But later. Like when Kane wasn’t trying to fuck him through his slit with a very determined pinky.
“Ugh.” Syren threw his head back. “God.”
“Not so much.” Kane chuckled at his throat. “I want you to come on me.” He cupped Syren’s balls and squeezed. “Right now.” He bit down on Syren’s throat, hard.
“Oh fuck!” Syren’s ass clenched. Kane growled and bucked up, nailing that place inside him. The pleasure reached its fever pitch and spilled over, Syren’s release splashing all over Kane’s ripped front.
“Yeah.” Kane growled against his throat. “Fucking gorgeous watching you come.” He anchored his hand in Syren’s hair and thrust up once, twice then his entire body shuddered, the muscles in his arms and neck straining, bulging as he reached his own climax. He dropped his head on Syren’s shoulder with a deep sigh.
Both held each other tight as their bodies worked through the aftershocks. Syren clenched around Kane still nestled inside him. The other man growled and nipped his neck and shoulder. They were sweaty and sticky and Syren already felt the effects of having Kane inside him, but damn, he loved that moment. Nobody speaking, just labored breaths and clamoring heartbeats breaking the silence, the mingled scents of sex and lube and sweat perfuming the air.
Simple and messy and amazing. It was what he’d been waiting so long to find and now he had it.
He kissed Kane on the neck then licked the sweat. “One day a few months ago I spent a weekend with your brother and his husband,” he said in Kane’s ear. “I got up late one night and saw them, you know, making love.”
“Fuck, really?” Kane lifted his head and mock-glared at Syren “You want to talk about my brother and his sex life now?”
Syren kissed him, because he could and he’d never tire of that fact. “I didn’t mean to watch them, but they were…beautiful together and I allowed myself to entertain the what-ifs.” He blinked rapidly when his eyes burned. “To think, what if I ran into Kane Ashby right now? What would I say? What if I had this with Kane right now, would it feel as good as those two looked together?”
Kane’s expression gentled. “And?”
“Feels good. I think we’re way hotter than Gabe and Rafe any day.”
Kane chuckled. “Let’s get cleaned up.” He helped Syren to stand and led him to the bathroom where they took turns wiping off, Syren with his back to the mirror. He looked around Kane’s bathroom with a frown. It didn’t look lived in, used. The soaps were unopened, the washrags still had their tags on. The bathroom looked immaculate.
Like a guest bathroom? For the guest bedroom Kane brought him to, made love to him in. Not his bed. Not the bed he’d shared with the other man. The dead man he couldn’t let go.
“Hey, you okay?” Kane touched his cheek and Syren moved away. Kane frowned.
“Yes. I’m fine.”
If it’s too good to be true.
“Come, let’s lie down for a while.” Kane tugged him back to the bedroom and Syren went, because a little bit of Kane was way better than no Kane at all.
He woke sometime later in a warm cocoon curled onto his side, spooned by Kane. A smile played on Syren’s lips even though the pain in his ass remained. He shifted and winced, but he welcomed it as proof that his wildest dream had come true. He hadn’t freaked out and lost Kane, in fact Kane had made it okay for him to freak out. An amazing man.
“Hmm.” A heavy hand circled his waist and Kane nosed his nape. Syren wiggled back. “Miss you much,” Kane mumbled. “Smell so good, Bay.”
Syren froze. Bay. As in Bailey, Kane’s dead partner. Wow. That hurt. It shouldn’t but it did, deep inside. He tried to roll away, but Kane held him trapped. Syren tugged on him.
“Move. Move, damn it.” He’d gone shrill and his chest hurt, but damn it, this was nothing to cry over. “Wake up.” He pushed back on Kane. “I gotta go.”
“Hey what—”
Kane shifted and Syren shot out from under him, landing on the floor where he immediately looked for his clothes. “Goddamn it, where is it?”
“Whoa.” Kane sat up, wiping a hand over his face. His hair was disheveled and his eyes heavy with sleep and he looked so good. Syren tore his gaze away. “What’s going on? Where are you going?”
“I need— I need to go.” Downstairs. He snapped his fingers. He’d originally undressed in the kitchen.
“Where are you going?” Kane tried to touch him but Syren jumped away and headed for the door. He ignored the hurt in Kane’s eyes when he asked, “Why are you leaving?”
“Because I want to,” Syren shot back. Kane’s brow knitted. “And because you called me him.” Kane’s mouth opened and Syren rushed on. “You called me Bailey.” He ducked out the door on Kane’s stunned expression.

Kane stood next to his car with his hands folded, the cool breeze rustling the hairs on his arms and nape. He’d followed Syren when he ran out his house in a panic, followed him all the way to New York. Syren’s driver hadn’t stopped except to refuel the dark-tinted Town Car because it appeared Syren was in a hurry, a man on a mission. Now Kane knew what that mission was.

Or who.
He ran his fingers through his hair, questioning yet again why he’d felt the need to chase Syren out the door. He’d needed to explain, if he could, explain why he’d called Syren Bailey’s name. Explain that he needed some time.
From the looks of things he’d have all the time in the world now. The knowledge hurt more than he expected it to, the sight that greeted him as he watched Syren and the other man inside the house opposite even more painful.
A third figure joined the two inside the house and soon after the front door opened, Syren’s short frame illuminated as he stood there, straightening his clothes, righting his hair. Kane didn’t speak, he simply waited for Syren to notice him. For any of the actions since he woke from that dream to make sense.
Why hadn’t he left when he’d understood what was about to play out? Why had he stood and watched, gritting his teeth and holding himself back from storming the house and demanding answers and explanations?
Syren walked down the short driveway and out to the road. He’d taken two steps across the street to his car parked farther down the block when he stopped.
“Kane.”
Kane watched as he visibly collected himself then came over, steps measured, eyes wide and questioning.
“Why are you here?”
Kane forced out a chuckle devoid of mirth. “You know, I’ve been asking myself the same question for the past twenty minutes.” He shook his head. “No answers yet.”
Syren’s Adam’s apple slid up and down. “How did you—”
“Know where you were?” Kane finished the sentence. “Followed you. I thought I owed you an explanation.” That role was now reversed.
“You followed me all the way from Connecticut?” Syren took a single step back, expressionless except for those fucking eyes. Surprise lurked there, surprise and fear. Kane didn’t get the latter, but he didn’t get a lot of things about the man who stood before him.
“Fool move, right?” Kane raised his gaze back to the house. “Didn’t expect to see you go into Pablo Castillo’s house.” He pointed a finger at the window shrouded in light where two shadowy figures were locked in an embrace. “Sure as hell didn’t expect to see you climb into his lap and his arms, for you to kiss him like you just finished kissing me.”
Breath left Syren in a loud whoosh. Kane turned back to him, but Syren’s eyes were closed, his lashes brushing his pale cheeks.
“I’m left standing out here with questions,” Kane continued. “Like was all we shared an act? Do you normally swap spit with Castillo? And what else don’t I know about you?”
Syren jerked his head in a no. “This was an…isolated incident.” He opened his eyes and Kane had to look away, else he’d get taken in, captivated by those purple orbs. “He—I—we needed to prove something to ourselves, I think.”
There was no apology in that tone, not in that half-assed explanation and Kane’s temper flared. “And you decided the perfect time to test whatever it is you wanted to