Chapter 368 - Fucked *

Chapter 368: Chapter 368 - Fucked *

Shao caught the hem of the shirt and dragged it up.

It came slowly. He took his time with it, watching the fabric peel away from the small of Jai’s back, and then he stopped and just looked.

Flawless. Not a scar on him, not one, all the way up the dip of his spine and across the shoulder blades, smooth and pale and warm under the lamplight. All that unmarked skin laid out like something new, and Shao bent his head and put his mouth to the base of it.

Jai shivered.

Shao licked up the spine.

Slow. All the way up, the flat of his tongue riding the knobs of it, and Jai’s back rippled under him like water and his elbows gave and he went down flat on his chest with a soft uh. Shao followed him up, mouth working, tasting the salt coming through the skin, and at the top he buried his face in the small dark tuft at the nape and kissed it.

Jai shuddered so hard his shoulders shook.

Then he turned his head on the mattress and glared back at him. "Hurry up."

Shao laughed, quiet, breath warm against the back of his neck.

"Patience."

"I’ve had patience. I’ve had weeks of ..."

Shao shifted his hips and laid himself along the crease.

The sound stopped in Jai’s throat. Shao was hard enough to ache and the denim was rough and hot and it dragged the whole length of that slick seam, and Jai’s back arched and he let out a groan that came from the base of his chest. Not quiet. Not even slightly.

"Rough," he gasped.

"Mm."

"It’s rough, do it again."

Shao rocked against him, once, and Jai’s forehead dropped to the mattress and he moaned into it.

"Get rid of these." Jai’s hand came back and fumbled at Shao’s waistband, tugging, clumsy with wanting. "Right now."

Shao didn’t move.

The pause stretched long enough that Jai looked back at him, and Shao bent and kissed each cheek, soft, slow, one and then the other, and stayed low over him.

"What if you get pregnant?" His voice had gone quiet. "Like Muchen."

Jai blinked up at him over his shoulder.

"So what," he said. "Let it happen. We’ll deal with it."

Shao didn’t answer straight away. His thumb moved on Jai’s hip, back and forth, and his brows pulled in.

"The birth looked risky. When she had it ... I thought she was going to ..."

Jai’s hand came up and covered his mouth.

"Shut up. You’re ruining the mood."

Shao stared at him over the fingers, unblinking, not moving at all.

Jai sighed against the mattress. "If I do end up pregnant, we have a doctor. We have a healer. Nothing’s going to go wrong. This is the safest place in the world to give birth, it’s fortified, it has everything. And ..." The words slowed. His eyes slid off Shao’s and fixed on the wall. "I want your body. I want to know what our baby would look like."

Then he turned his face and buried it in the pillow and wouldn’t look up.

That was the last straw.

Shao’s control went all at once. He bent and bit the back of Jai’s neck, hard enough to make him yelp into the pillow, and his hand found the waistband and tore the pants down his legs and threw them, and then he was back and lined up and pressing, pressing, and the slick gave and the ring opened and he pushed in.

Jai’s whole body went rigid. His hand flew out and slapped flat against the headboard. The sound he made was long and thin and shaking, drawn out of him by inches, and it broke near the end into something like a sob.

Shao held still. Buried to the root and holding, breath sawing, his forehead down between Jai’s shoulder blades.

"Alright?" he managed.

Jai’s fingers curled against the headboard.

"Lover," he said, and his voice cracked down the middle, "if you stop now I’ll never forgive you."

Shao pulled back and drove in again, and the headboard knocked the wall.

Jai choked on a shout and shoved his own fist against his mouth, but it was late and it was thin and it did almost nothing. The second thrust had him bowing up off the mattress with his eyes screwed shut, and the third dragged a noise out of him that was absolutely going to carry down the stairs, and Shao had to get a hand over his mouth.

"Quiet," he breathed against his ear. "You want him up here?"

Jai shook his head frantically under his palm, and then bit it, teeth sinking into the heel of Shao’s hand, and Shao laughed low and set a rhythm that was very nearly cruel.

It was slow at first and it did not stay slow. It built the way the slick had built, the way the whole night had built, each push landing deep enough that Jai’s breath punched out of him in time with it, and the sound of it was obscene in the quiet room, wet and rhythmic and undercut by the soft slap of skin. Jai’s back was a long pale curve beneath him, arching and falling, the shirt still bunched around his shoulders and slipping a little further with every thrust, and Shao could not stop looking at the way his own hips moved against it, at the red bite mark on the nape, at the white knuckles on the headboard.

He took his hand off Jai’s mouth and Jai dragged in a ragged breath and turned his face, and there was a look in his eye, wrecked and stubborn at once.

"Harder," he whispered.

Shao gave him harder.

The headboard knocked. Then it knocked again, and Jai gave up entirely and let his forehead drop to the mattress and moaned into it, muffled and continuous, and Shao’s hand found his hip and hauled him back into each thrust so that Jai did not have to do anything at all but take it.

"Two hours," Shao said, hoarse, bent low over his back. "Still have two hours."

Jai made a wordless, despairing sound into the pillow.