Lucien's whole body burned where Mikhail touched him, every graze of his mouth or hand setting off sparks.
His wet tongue toyed mercilessly with Lucien's nipple, teeth scraping and biting until the sharp pleasure shot straight down to his cock.
That big, rough hand working him off was ruthless, stroking and squeezing like it owned him.
The devil's long red hair brushed across his chest, tickling his skin until Lucien shuddered. Almost without thinking, his fingers tangled in the strands, squeezing the soft texture as if anchoring himself.
Mikhail looked up at him then, golden eyes blazing with heat and that gaze alone made Lucien's body betray him even further.
Some twisted part of him wanted to stay in this bubble of deceit forever, if it meant he could keep drowning in this drug-like euphoria.
They'd always said it: no matter how high he climbed, no matter how much power he wielded, his instincts as an omega would devour him someday.
