Under the Skin (22 page)

Bending forward, Alexei held his weight on his arms at either side of Patrick’s chest, feathering bare touches of his lips over each mark that marred the perfect flesh. Tightening his leg muscles, he pushed his hips upward, giving Patrick’s hands more room to move. “
Pozhaluysta
,” he whispered against his lover’s heart. “Patya, touch me.”

Patrick’s grip firmed where his hands rested against Alexei’s sides. “I want to,” he replied in a whisper of his own, “but I’m afraid I’ll hurt you again.”

Alexei’s lips lingered over a darkened bruise spanning several ribs where something, a ring perhaps, had broken the flesh. “You are one hurting,” he murmured with regret, his determination growing to give his lover such pleasure as would drive away all his pain.

“Not that kind of pain,” Patrick retorted gently, smoothing his palms over Alexei’s cheeks, urging him to look up so their gazes met. “I don’t want to hurt you like I did last night.”

Steel-gray eyes searched liquid brown ones for a moment; then Alexei lowered his forehead to rest against Patrick’s. “Only way you can hurt me is not to touch me,” he asserted, the words vibrating against Patrick’s lips.

Patrick’s hands still trembled slightly as they stroked lower, but he tried to take Alexei at his word, loosening the belt and unfastening the trousers. The familiar black silk boxers came into view, the sight amusing him suddenly. “I’m going to buy you a pair of bright yellow shorts,” he declared with a brief chuckle. “Something to relieve all this black.”

The unexpected comment won a snort of laughter from Alexei. Some of the tension drained from his spine, and he let his lips curve into a thin smile. “For you, I might wear them,” he admitted, his breath catching as Patrick’s hands pushed trousers and boxers over his buttocks and down his thighs. He reached back to help free them from his legs, his hand brushing Patrick’s, fingers interlacing in a brief kiss of skin to skin before the last of his clothing fell away and he was naked over his lover. “These too,” he urged, tracing the elastic ridge of Patrick’s more colorful plaid shorts, needing to slide away the last barrier between them.

Patrick lifted his hips and let Alexei strip him. “Just don’t wear them for anyone else,” he teased, amazed at his own boldness. He wasn’t naïve enough to believe they were through with problems, but for the first time, he felt like they were truly lovers, able not just to have sex, but to laugh and tease the way true lovers did. “They might take away your stars.”

“Is not possible,” Alexei countered, slowly lowering himself until their groins touched, his rigid cock swaying against Patrick’s, their bodies mating flesh against flesh. It was a sensation he had felt dozens of times in the months they had been lovers, and yet it felt totally new, as if nerves that had been deadened had suddenly come to life, flooding him with new awareness. “Is commitment for life.” He rolled his hips gently, making them slide against each other, hissing at the rush of pleasure that spread through his body at the simple touch. “
Ya tebya lyublyu
,” he groaned, his hands settling on Patrick’s shoulders as he leaned back, gradually increasing the pressure. “Need you.”

Patrick parted his legs immediately, more than willing to fulfill that request. His heart beat faster at the tenderness in Alexei’s voice as he murmured in Russian. “Don’t hide behind words I don’t understand,” he pleaded, though he thought perhaps he knew what his lover had whispered. “Tell me what they mean, Lyosha, please.”

His instinctive reaction was to refuse, to turn the question away with a clever answer, but Alexei stopped the words before they could leave his lips. He was committed to more than just the
vory
now, and he could no more deny the one than he could the other. His palm slid down Patrick’s shoulder to rest over his lover’s heart for a moment, continuing down his arm to wrap around his hand and press it against his own heart beneath the lurid tattoos. “Love you,” he vowed, his voice soft but strong. “Means I love you.”

“I love you too,” Patrick replied, squeezing the hand that held his. He hadn’t been wrong. The words weren’t a magic wand to erase everything that kept them apart, but they were a promise to stop fighting each other and to face the world as one, even if no one saw that but them. Needing one final affirmation of their new commitment, he tipped his hips upward, rubbing against Alexei’s groin. “Make love to me?”

Alexei could think of only one thing he wanted more, one way to lay the ghosts of the past to rest while ensuring he caused his lover no more pain. Lifting their joined hands to his lips, he kissed Patrick’s palm and then brought them to Patrick’s cock, stroking slowly up the strong column. “This time you make love to me.”

Patrick’s cock leapt at the thought, even as his heart fell. “Lyosha,” he protested, remembering how badly the previous night had ended. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

Perhaps I need to prove to myself
, Alexei thought, but he had not missed the reaction of Patrick’s body to his offer. “Is something we both want,” he responded, squeezing the cock that jumped in his hand.

Patrick could hardly deny he wanted it, but that didn’t make it a good idea. He was aware of the gift Alexei was offering him, but he didn’t want another misstep now, not when they’d finally started to make true peace between them. “Another time,” he suggested. “When we’ve both had more time to get used to the idea.”
When I’m sure it won’t destroy what we’re finally beginning to build
.

“Get used to the idea,” Alexei purred, leaning forward to pin Patrick’s shoulders to the bed, not forcefully enough to hurt but strongly enough to make the point that he would not be gainsaid. “This
will
happen—you can prep me first or I will take you in as we are. Your choice.”

Patrick almost protested again, but Alexei’s face was implacable, and what he was asking was hardly a hardship. He would just have to go slowly and make sure he didn’t unintentionally bring back any bad memories. “There’s lube in the drawer,” he capitulated.

Freeing one hand long enough to locate the small bottle, Alexei handed it to his lover and then returned to the pleasant task of running his lips over every mark on Patrick’s chest. The younger man trembled beneath him, mirroring the thrill that vibrated along Alexei’s nerves as he anticipated what was to come.

Patrick took a deep breath to steady his hands as he squeezed some lube onto his fingers. He waited long enough for the gel to warm before sliding his hand between them, catching both their erections in a slippery grip, stroking firmly as he spread the fluid over both their shafts. He would do this because Alexei insisted—hell, who was he kidding? He was as hard as a rock at the thought of being the first one to touch Alexei this way in who knew how many years—but he would do it at his own pace and in his own way, giving his lover plenty of opportunity to change his mind if he wanted to.

The slick glide of Patrick’s hand on their cocks wrung a low moan from Alexei’s throat, but as good as it felt, it was nothing they hadn’t done before. Hoping to spur on his lover’s actions, he closed his mouth over a dusky nipple, worrying it to pebbled hardness before tugging it gently between his teeth. The hand on his cock stilled as Patrick’s back arched into the contact, his breath hissing out between clenched teeth. Alexei caught the idle hand and drew it backward, humming at the friction over his balls as he lowered his mouth to the other side of Patrick’s chest.

Alexei didn’t seem to be changing his mind, if the way he directed Patrick’s hand was any indication. Inwardly shaking his head, Patrick cupped the heavy sac in his palm, fondling the pendant flesh with careful diligence, determined to arouse Alexei as much as possible before beginning to stretch him. Hopefully, that would offset the inevitable burn after the untold years he suspected it had been since Piotr died.

Alexei’s unaccustomed restlessness grew along with his arousal under Patrick’s cautious touch. For the first time, he understood the need he’d heard in Patrick’s voice when his lover begged to be fucked. Even the sure expectation of pain wasn’t enough to quell the hunger to feel Patrick pushing inside him, joining them in the most intimate of all unions. “You take too long,” he growled, hitching his hips to try to force Patrick’s hand where he needed it most.

“I’ll take as long as I damn well please,” Patrick snapped, though there was no heat in his voice. Immediately, he checked himself, reminding himself of the huge step Alexei was taking. “Let me do this right, Lyosha. Let me make it good for you.”

“Will be good,” Alexei answered, exhaling as he willed himself to give up the need to control. This was Patrick. He wanted this. “Will be you.” Still, he could not resist arching his hips again, a hint of impatience tingeing his voice. “Just… faster.”

Patrick tilted his head up, catching Alexei’s lips with his own as he slid his hand lower, to where Alexei wanted it. He lingered over that first, slow touch, letting his lover get accustomed to the feel of his fingers. The last thing he wanted was to catch the older man off guard and evoke more unpleasant memories. When Alexei’s tongue surged into his mouth, he jettisoned such worries and simply let himself act, tracing the tight hole teasingly before pressing just the tip of his finger inside. The guardian muscle tensed against him, and he pulled his mouth free long enough to whisper, “Relax and let me in.”

“Been long time,” Alexei rasped hoarsely, fighting the instinctive urge to clench against the intrusion.
Not intrusion
, he insisted to himself, rocking back against the teasing fingertip.
Patya. My Patya.
“Now, Patya,” he murmured against his lover’s lips, pushing back until he felt the stretch and burn of the slick digit entering him.

Patrick didn’t ask how long. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was making this time as enjoyable as possible. Twisting his fingers in the impossibly hot sheath, he searched for Alexei’s gland. The hitch of his lover’s hips and the sudden gasp of breath assured him he’d found it. He pulsed his fingertip against the spot, working it relentlessly until Alexei was panting roughly against his lips. “Ready for more?”

“
Da
,” Alexei panted, “
da
, more.” The twisting stretch and irregular swipes of Patrick’s finger were teasing him with a promise just out of reach, awakening a hunger that only his lover’s body could satisfy. Biting back a groan when a second finger joined the first, he moved his lips down Patrick’s throat, across the wing of his collarbone, biting at the muscle of his shoulder when the fingers began to scissor inside him.

Slowly, deliberately, thoroughly, Patrick stretched the tight portal until the muscle had loosened enough for him to tease around the entrance with a third finger. He wasn’t as thick as Alexei was, but he refused to cause his lover any pain. “One more?” he asked, hoping the answer would be yes.

“
Nyet
,” Alexei insisted, pushing up onto his palms and taking Patrick’s mouth in a deep, hard, demanding kiss. “No more fingers. Want you.” He closed a hand around Patrick’s arousal, his thumb mixing the pre-come that leaked from its tip with the glossy gel that coated the shaft, rising onto his knees to guide it between his splayed legs.

“Oh fuck!” Patrick moaned, the heat of Alexei’s hand, Alexei’s body burning through him. He forced himself to stillness, allowing his lover to control the speed and depth of his penetration. Slowly—oh, God, so slowly!—Alexei sank down onto him until they were groin to groin, Patrick’s cock fully sheathed. He wanted to ask if Alexei was all right, but words were beyond him. He levered his eyelids open—he couldn’t have said when they fell—and searched his lover’s face instead. There had never been a more alluring sight, he decided, than the vision of his lover slowly riding him, one stray lock of hair falling decadently across his forehead.

“
Bozhe moi
,” Alexei groaned as he dragged himself up until only the swollen head of Patrick’s cock remained inside him, then just as slowly sank down again on the pulsing rod. He felt every bulge and vein, every throb of Patrick’s shaft inside him, clinging to him, searing him with a fierce friction that left him gasping. His muscles tightened around the hard length as he tried to hold Patrick closer, pull him deeper, feel him become part of his own flesh, part of his soul. Letting his head fall back, he rode his lover faster as his body’s demands took over, the wordless cries from Patrick’s lips assuring him he felt the same consuming pleasure.

One of Patrick’s hands settled on Alexei’s hip, not to control, but simply to connect himself to his lover’s movements. The other encircled the bobbing shaft that rose proudly from the older man’s groin. He thrust up to meet each of Alexei’s downward plunges, their bodies slapping together furiously, until he was close to sobbing for release. “With me,” he pleaded, needing to know he’d brought Alexei pleasure before giving in to his own orgasm.

The breathless tremor in his lover’s voice was almost enough to shatter Alexei’s fragile control. Sweat dripped down his heaving chest, his heels digging into the mattress as he ground onto Patrick in short, choppy jabs that stimulated him until he could feel the blood boiling in his veins. His muscles rippled savagely, his cock jerking in his lover’s fist as his orgasm tore through him, blinding in its intensity. Shouting his Patya’s name, he stiffened and shuddered as his seed splashed their joined bodies, each constrictive wave squeezing the adamant shaft that impaled him.

He had been wrong, Patrick realized in the second before his orgasm hit him. There was a more alluring sight than Alexei riding him: Alexei coming apart atop him, face contorted with ecstasy, stole his breath. Then his own climax hit him, exploding through him so strongly it blinded him even to the glory of Alexei’s passion. His vision grayed out despite his struggle to keep his focus on his lover.

His breath gasping from his lungs, Alexei slowly focused his gaze on his lover with the clarity of the sun burning away the fog. Patrick’s eyes were closed, his face slack with repletion, mouth red and swollen from their kisses. Bending forward with care, Alexei joined their lips in a slow kiss until the tumid lips stirred against his. Mindful of his lover’s injuries, he began to move to one side, but Patrick’s hands grasped at his hips, holding him in place. He settled on his forearms and brushed the damp curls from Patrick’s forehead, leaving his fingers tangled in the lush hair, one more connection between them.