God of Fury (Legacy of Gods #5) by Rina Kent

The kiss is hard and fast, meant to make him stop talking. I don’t want to hear his grating words right now.

“I’m going to need you to be real quiet for me, baby.” I unzip his pants and pull out his hard cock. “Seems you really get off on this, don’t you?”

“Nikolai, don’t…please…” He shakes his head frantically, but I jerk him from the base to the tip, relishing how he turns rock-fucking-hard.

And just because I can’t help it, I push on the foreskin and tease the hole.

“Mmm. You’re dripping for me. How cute.”

“Fuck you…”

“Love it when you talk dirty.” I lower myself to my knees with a bit of struggle. We’re big guys, especially me, and this place is small.

Once I’m in an okay position, I slide him into my mouth.

Bran growls and I press a hand to his lips.

“Shh,” I whisper around his dick. “I love it when you’re loud, but this isn’t the place for those sexy growls. Be quiet for me as I choke on your cock, baby.”

He throws his head against the wall, eyes rolling as I take him to the back of my throat, then out again and in again. I tease the tip, thrusting my tongue against it a few times.

“Mmmfff…” He curses against my palm as he buries his hands in my hair, shoving me against his groin.

I suck him in a frenzy, wanting to get him off. I choke on his cock and squeeze his balls until he’s writhing against the wall and his precum spills on my tongue.

God-fucking-damn-it.

He’s a sight to behold when chasing his pleasure. Flushed skin, hooded eyes, and demanding fingers.

He has an obsession with my hair, and just like every time, he yanks away the tie to sink his fingers against my skull, fisting my hair, then stroking it, then fisting it again.

I can feel his muscles tightening as he thrusts in my throat faster. His teeth sink into my fingers as his cum explodes in my mouth and down my throat.

He comes for a long time and I keep sucking him dry until I swallow every last drop.

He sags against the wall, fingers clenching in my hair. Once I’m done, I pull him out and lick my lips as he watches me with feral eyes.

“Stop looking at me like that or I’ll fuck you, baby.”

As I stand up, I remove my hand from his mouth, now sporting a red half-moon over the tattoos from his teeth.

“What the hell do you think—”

My lips seal to his. “Unless it’s a thank-you, I don’t want to hear it.”

He watches me for a beat. “Can you stop kissing me randomly?”

I lick his lower lip. “Nope.”

He tucks himself in, fighting against the redness creeping up his skin.

Once he’s back within his boring element, he glares at me. “What’s with Killian finding out about you being in an exclusive relationship?”

“He just loves playing detective.” I lick his throat. “Don’t worry, he doesn’t know it’s you.”

Bran’s hands land on my chest and he tries to push me away, but he tilts his head to the side, giving me access to that pounding pulse point. “Why does he think it’s Simon?”

“You heard him. Simon is the one who makes more sense.”

“Why? Because he calls you Daddy?”

I chuckle against his neck, trying to be quiet even though there are no voices outside. “Jealous, baby?”

He fists my hair and tugs me back. “Don’t mess with me, Nikolai.”

“Don’t mess with me.” I wrap my fingers around his throat and squeeze. “You have no right to act butthurt when you’re the one against a public relationship. If you don’t like people thinking I’m with Simon, boo-fucking-hoo. It’s your fault.”

A smudge of pain passes through his eyes and I want to kick myself in the ass when he releases my hair.

“Baby…”

“No, you’re right. I’m the one who wanted it this way and I need to deal with the consequences.”

“But why does it have to be like this? We can—”

“No!” he cuts me off so harshly, I actually step back.

“You didn’t even hear what I have to say.”

“The answer is no, Nikolai,” he says with a note of panic, and I want to reach inside him and drag out whatever demon is making him feel this way, then beat it to death.

What the fuck happened to him? Why does he go into this mode sometimes, as if he’s being chased by a monster?

“Just drop it, okay?” He’s breathing harshly. “Go back first.”

“Hey…what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“You look anything but fine.”

“Why is that any of your business?” he snaps. “Why do you have to care? Just leave me alone.”

“You know, you’re pushing me too far and I might let you fucking drop, Brandon.”

His lips part and I think he’ll at least apologize like he usually does, but he whispers, “Please go.”

“Fuck you,” I mutter, then whip the door open and leave.

My movements are forceful as I wash my hands and stride back to the coffee shop. I pause by the table when I notice the atmosphere is not as sickeningly sweet as when I left.

The reason is that Bran’s clone is in my chair.