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His confidence was the most attractive thing Stavros had ever witnessed. He’d been around the most gorgeous men and women. But it was the cool and calm way that Daniel Nieto talked about killing him that had Stavros’ battered body attempting to stir.
“The monster in you recognizes the monster in me,” he whispered. “And it wants to play.”
He was aroused by Stavros Konstantinou. By the way he spoke. The way he fought. The way he bled. The way he looked at Daniel.
“Your death is mine,” Daniel said simply. He pulled his hand from Stavros’ grip slowly, until only their fingertips touched. Until they were connected by just that, the barest brush of fingertips. “I decide when and how.”
He’d been dead for years, and this man brought him back to life. His voice. His blood. His eyes. They brought Daniel back to life.
He put the gun to Stavros’ forehead. Pressed it against him. “You’re alive because you’re mine. Your blood. Your life. Your death. Mine.”
“Killing him will kill you.” The truth of those words staggered him, and Daniel stiffened his spine to keep from staggering away.
“He might not ask, but he wants your forgiveness. And he might not tell you outright, but he’ll gladly walk into your blade.”
he was starting to feel things. Like regret. Like sorrow. Like that thing he refused to name, the thing that came over him when Daniel Nieto looked at him. Touched him. Kissed him.
“I am yours. To fuck. To torture. To kill. I am yours.” For some reason, the truth of those words were the saddest thing Stavros ever experienced.
“I can’t say I don’t want you.” The words were coming now, and he couldn’t stop them. He released his hold on Stavros, nuzzling him, inhaling him as he dragged his lips along the column of his neck. “I can’t say I don’t need you. I’m very much the fool, caught in this moment with you, unwilling to walk away.”
Mouth on Stavros, cock inside him, Daniel fell from grace. Happily.
“Because I’m afraid that what I feel for him might burn brighter, hotter, than what I felt for her.”
Maybe it happened the first time Daniel took his blade to Stavros’ flesh. Or when he’d fed Stavros his own blood from that knife. However it happened, Stavros had fallen in love with Daniel Nieto. Now he had to let him go.
He’d been left before. Had his heart broken, too. That blow had never tossed him on his ass before now. That blow had never hollowed out his chest before today. This love. This loss. Daniel Nieto. Together they slaughtered him.
“Feelings aren’t something you run from,” Christophe answered softly. “You bring them with you wherever you go.”
It wasn’t that much of a revelation at all, to realize he’d set himself on fire to keep Stavros Konstantinou warm.
Soul shattering. The trust he gave Daniel. His life. His body. His pleasure. He trusted Daniel with it.
“Your touch kills me,” Daniel confessed through the thickness in his throat. “It’s the sweetest murder, and I want it again and again.”
“Soy todo tuyo,” he whispered the words into Stavros’ skin. He hooked an arm around Stavros’ thigh and lifted his head, meeting those eyes. They waited for him. “Yo soy tuyo y tú eres mío.” I am yours and you are mine.
“It doesn’t matter where or when,” Stavros whispered. “Wherever you wish to take me, I want to go.” He licked his lips, eyes glittering as they caressed Daniel’s face.
“This tin man has a heart, diablo. And it is yours.” He caught Stavros’ hand and brought it up to his chest. Over his heart. “It beats for you.”
“¡Puta madre!” Stavros lifted his head from Daniel’s throat to peer up into his lover’s face. “Did you just swear?” Eyes still hazy from their lovemaking blinked at him. “It was not my intention, no.”
Stavros leaned forward until their noses bumped. “You’re the best man I know, and I’m not saying that because you let me tongue-fuck your ass.” “I should hope not.”
“We connected through blood and violence,” Daniel said thoughtfully. “We’re bloody, violent men.”
“Expect.” Stavros grabbed Daniel’s hand, bringing it to the middle of his chest. Holding him there in the tightest grip. “You brought me here. You let me see you. You damn well better expect things from me,” he said fiercely, gaze hot and heavy as the midday sun. “Expect things from me.”
“Expect me to love you like you love me.” He shifted closer, settling between Daniel’s legs. “Expect me to respect you enough to do right by you,” he said hoarsely. “For once, fucking expect me to take care of your heart.”
“I expect you to love me like I love you,” he whispered into that kiss. “I expect you to do right by me, because I will do right by you.” Stavros shuddered. His grip on Daniel faltered. “I expect you to take care of my heart, diablo, because I will take care of yours.”
Wet heat flared against his Adam’s apple when Daniel licked him. Licked his blood. Hell. “You know I’m gonna fucking come if you keep that nasty shit up.”
“You’ve got me.” “Do I?” Daniel lifted a brow. “You’ve got me.” He kissed Daniel, hard. Sharp. “Fuck, you’ve got me.”
