Chapter 439: Bathtub

Chapter 439: Chapter 439: Bathtub

Liam crossed the heated stone floor without hurry. Bare feet against warm marble. Arik’s shirt swayed against his thighs with each step, the unfastened collar dipping low enough to expose the sharp line of one collarbone.

He stopped at the edge of the tub.

Arik looked up at him from the water, golden eyes tracking every inch of him with an intensity that made the bath steam feel suddenly cold.

The shirt was gone before Arik could form a sentence.

Liam peeled it off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Then he stepped into the tub, one leg at a time; hot water rose around him.

He straddled Arik’s lap.

Arik’s hands found his hips immediately, thumbs pressing into the hollows above his hipbones. Water sloshed against the marble lip.

"You are supposed to be resting," Arik said. His voice had gone low and rough, the diplomacy burned out of it.

"I rested." Liam settled his weight. The underside of Arik’s cock pressed against the crease of his ass. "You’re the one who slept in meetings."

"I did not sleep."

"You came home smelling like a coffee pot."

"It was a productive night."

"Was it?"

Arik’s hands slid up Liam’s ribcage, thumbs tracking the line of his sternum. "Kamal is going to Lirya with Theron."

Liam blinked. Then laughed, short and warm. "You’re sending them together."

"For the coronation."

"And then leaving them there."

"To recover from their diplomatic exhaustion."

Liam braced his palms on Arik’s shoulders and looked down at him. The laughter faded slowly. What replaced it was quieter. "You planned that in a bathtub?"

"I plan everywhere."

"That is not a virtue."

Arik tilted his head up and kissed the underside of Liam’s jaw. Water dripped from his hair onto Liam’s chest, trailing between his pecs. "I disagree."

Liam intended to say something else. He forgot what.

Arik’s mouth moved slowly down his throat. Teeth scraped the juncture where Liam’s neck met his shoulder. Liam’s breath caught in his chest, and the sound he made was not a word.

Then Arik bit down.

Liam’s hips twitched forward involuntarily, and his half-hard cock slid against Arik’s stomach beneath the water. He gasped.

"Arik—"

Arik sucked at the spot. The skin pulled, warmed, and Liam could feel the blood rushing up under his mouth, a bloom of pressure that would darken over the next hour.

"Stop," Liam managed. His voice came out breathless rather than firm.

Arik ignored him and moved lower. His mouth found the slope of Liam’s chest, then the flat plane beneath his collarbone, and he sucked another mark there, his tongue pressing against the skin as he worked.

Liam’s hands came up to push at his shoulders. "I said stop. People will see."

Arik lifted his head just far enough to look at him. His pupils had gone almost entirely black.

"Good."

"That is not—" The protest dissolved as Arik’s mouth closed over one nipple.

Liam arched. His spine bent back like a drawn bow, and the water slapped against the sides of the tub. Arik sucked hard, teeth grazing, and the sensation went straight through Liam’s cock and curled hot in his gut. Every nerve in his chest pulled taut toward the point of contact.

His hands were still pushing.

Arik noticed.

One hand left Liam’s hip and caught both of his wrists.

Arik pulled them down and back, pinning Liam’s hands behind him at the base of his spine, palm to wrist, the grip absolute but patient. Liam’s shoulders rolled, his chest opened, and his nipples were suddenly offered up to Arik’s mouth.

"You are using my own—"

Arik switched to the other nipple and sucked a fresh mark into the skin above it.

Liam moaned.

He tried to twist his wrists free.

Arik let him try, allowed the muscles in Liam’s forearms to flex and strain, and then simply held.

Liam stopped struggling because there was no point, and the moment he stopped, the heat that had been building hot and tight since the bedroom door opened flooded through him at once.

He was aware of everything. Water dripping down his throat. The ache in his shoulders from the position. Arik’s cock hard against his ass, twitching with each sound Liam made.

Arik’s free hand found Liam’s hip beneath the water. Guided him up onto his knees. Then down.

Liam felt the head of Arik’s cock press against his rim.

He sank down.

The stretch came first, a full blunt pressure that made his breath go short. Then Arik was inside him, thick and perfect, and Liam’s entire body curled forward against Arik’s chest until his forehead pressed to Arik’s shoulder.

Arik held still. One hand still pinning Liam’s wrists at his back, the other splayed wide across his hip.

"Breathe," Arik said softly.

Liam’s breath shuddered out. He nodded against Arik’s shoulder.

Then he began to move.

Slow at first. Rolling his hips, rising and sinking, letting his body adjust to the width of him. The water churned around them. Arik’s hand on his hip tightened, and he made a low sound against the side of Liam’s throat, teeth grazing skin again, hungry.

Liam found the rhythm. Up. Down. The head of Arik’s cock dragged against that spot inside him with each pass, and his eyelids fluttered.

"Faster," Arik said.

Liam gave him faster.

His thighs burned. His wrists still strained behind him in Arik’s grip, and the position opened his chest wide, and Arik’s teeth were on his skin again—neck, shoulder, chest—marking and sucking with a patience that made Liam’s whole body feel claimed in increments.

Bite. Suck. A measured drag of tongue.

"People are going to—" Liam started.

Another bite. Higher on his throat.

"—to see—"

Arik’s teeth closed on the same spot again.

Liam stopped arguing.

He rode him.

The rhythm changed to a more desperate, faster, water slapping the marble walls in erratic waves. Liam’s knees gripped Arik’s ribs, and his hips rolled in a tight circle meant to keep the head of Arik’s cock pressed hard against that spot each time he came down.

His own cock was trapped between their bodies, leaking beneath the water, but that was not what was building. Something else had hooked into him, deeper than pleasure, and it was tightening.

Then Arik’s cock swelled.

Liam felt his body stretch around it, the base thickening, the knot pressing against his rim with every downward stroke. His eyes flew open.

"Arik."

Arik’s hand slid from Liam’s hip around his back. Found the nape of his neck.

"You wanted to plan," Arik said against his ear. "Plan."

Liam took him deeper. His rim stretched over the swelling base, hot and resistant, and then...

He was riding the knot.

The rhythm changed entirely. Short, tight strokes, Arik’s cock locked thick inside him, grinding against that spot with every tiny roll of his hips. Liam’s breath came in harsh bursts against Arik’s throat.

His abs clenched.

Something pulled tight in him. His whole pelvis drew up like a fist.

Liam came without ejaculating.

His body seized. His back arched against Arik’s chest, hips pressing down hard, and the knot drove so deep that Liam’s vision went white at the edges. A dry, wrenching wave rolled through him, then another, his rim clenching around Arik’s knot in helpless pulses. He made a broken sound against Arik’s shoulder, and Arik’s arms came around his whole back, holding him close, letting him ride it through.

When Liam’s body finally softened, he slumped. His chest was marked everywhere Arik’s mouth had been—throat, collarbone, both nipples, one shoulder.

Arik was still hard inside him.

"Again," Arik said quietly.

Liam lifted his head. His lips were parted. His crimson eyes had gone glassy.

Liam did not pull away.