Martin stepped back. He’d opened his heart and poured his thoughts out for Cyrus to do whatever he wanted and all Cy had to say was it’s not that hot. What the hell?
“They say hell’s hot. It’s bad, but not that bad.”
Oh. Wait. Martin processed Cy’s words. “What are you talking about?”
“Hell.” Cy’s voice dropped an octave. “I’ve been there.” He nodded. “Come on in. You’re here.”
Something wasn’t right and yet, he had no idea what the fuck it was. He stepped into the living room of the apartment. Boring. That was the first word to come to mind. Cy’s home, if it was indeed his home, was boring as all get out. No knickknacks, no posters, nothing to give the room personality.
“I don’t usually crash here. This was my grandmother’s place.”
That explained a lot. Martin forked his fingers into his hair, not knowing what else to do with them. There was so much he wanted to say and so many things he wanted to do with Cy—like fuck against the door. “Cy.”
Cy crossed the space and pulled Martin into his arms. He parted his lips and rubbed his thumb along Martin’s bottom lip. “You’re a very beautiful man. I’m a monster. I like you. A lot. Run or stay, it’s up to you.”
Wow. He’d hoped, but Martin wasn’t totally sure Cy would appreciate his coming to Cy’s place. Hell, he didn’t even think Cy saw him as attractive. But beautiful...? Martin swayed on his feet. He had to do something other than just bobble there. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Cy’s. Rough skin met soft slick skin. Martin shivered. Cy tasted like wine and something else. His brain shouted sunshine, but how the fuck was it possible a vampire could taste like the one thing that should kill him?
Cy’s groan, combined with his inching closer to Martin turned Martin on more. Cy was intoxicating. Getting involved with him could be deadly. Why did Martin suddenly not give a shit if Cy killed him?
Martin broke the kiss and dropped to his knees. He’d never been so overt, but fuck, he needed to taste the delectable vampire. Martin rubbed his face on Cy’s groin, memorizing the scent of smoke and liquor on Cy’s clothes. The musk of excited man hung in the air as well. Nice.
“I shouldn’t want you so much,” Cyrus rumbled. “But shouldn’t sucks cock.”
“No.” Martin fumbled with Cy’s button and the zipper on his jeans. “I suck cock.”
Eyes rolling back, Cy forked his fingers into Martin’s hair, tugging the short strands. The rush of pain kicked his lust into another dimension. The definite bulge in Cy’s jockey shorts indicated something was brewing between them. Martin smoothed his mouth over Cy’s erection and breathed in deep. God, he loved the smell of turned-on man.
Cy moaned and slowly worked his groin against Martin’s face. Martin took the opportunity to lick from the bottom to the top of the bulge.
“Fuck.” The grasping got tighter. “Too good.”
No shit. The whole scene was too damned good. Martin inched back and rifled in his back pocket for his wallet. Condom. He always had a spare or two. Too bad he never really got the chances to use them. The foil refused to budge from the thick leather. Fuck. Of all the times he wanted a condom and now the thing wouldn’t cooperate.
“Take your time.” Cy ripped his shirt up over his head and shifted his weight. He smoothed his hand from Martin’s hair and cupped his cheek. “We’ve got till the sun comes up around seven.”
That sounded a little better, but he still felt stupid. Couldn’t even get a condom from his wallet. Martin closed his eyes and took a long draw of air. Settle, he reminded his nerves. Time to settle. As he let out the breath, he gazed at Cy. Even a little weathered, the guy oozed sex appeal. Crooked grin, deep-set eyes. And then there was the body. Lean muscle in all the right places, a thin trail of hair between his pecs...delicious. Martin wobbled on his knees.
“Sheath me so we can find heaven.”
Cy’s command brought Martin from his lust-induced haze. Sheathing. Yes. That would be a great idea. He pulled the pesky packet from his wallet and ripped the foil with his teeth. At the same time, Cy worked open his jeans and shoved the denim towards the floor. The fabric pooled at his feet in a soft thump.
Martin gasped. No boxers. No briefs. Just sexy, shorn cock. Wow. Martin stared up at Cyrus as he rolled the rubber down Cy’s length. Cy shivered and a slow smile curled on his lips.
“Drop you pants.”
Martin scurried from his position on the floor and unbuttoned his slacks. The cotton tangled around his ankles as he shoved his boxer shorts in the same direction. God, he had no grace when he wanted fucked.
“Easy does it.” Cy placed his hand on Martin’s back. “On the bed on all fours.”
“I want you to bite me.”
“There’s more between us than just lust.” Martin sat on the edge of the bed and leaned back, exposing his ass. “I don’t understand how, but I belong to you.”