Royally Screwed - Lynn Van Dorn Page 0,56

you for once.”

Angelo cupped Yuri’s face and looked into his eyes. “I always notice you. Always.”

Yuri made a face. “Uh huh. All those years, all I wanted was some of your attention, and when I got it, it was the best thing I’ve ever had, and when I didn’t have it, I hated you a little for taking it away. And how stupid am I to even encourage you in the smallest bit, but I am because it feels so good and I can’t help it. I know you’ll go back to all your women. It’s crazy to think you’d be able to fake attraction to me forever.”

“Fake?” Angelo rolled slightly to the side, somehow managing to not fall down onto the floor. He took Yuri’s hand and brought it down to the bulge in his trousers. “Does this feel fucking fake to you?”

What it felt like to Yuri was amazing. He wanted more time to be up close and personal with Angelo’s dick. Unable to help himself, he stroked Angelo through the fabric of his clothes. Angelo threw his head back and made a moan that was gratifying to Yuri’s ears.

“It feels perfect to me,” Yuri confessed. “It feels like everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Angelo rolled so he was back on top of Yuri, pinning him in place. “The only thing you’ve ever wanted is my cock?” He sounded dubious. “What about your degree? Or that pink suit you talked your dad into letting you wear to court at Christmas that one year? What about—”

Yuri turned the tables on Angelo and kissed him into silence. When he pulled back, he said, “All that other stuff is obtainable. That’s the difference.”

A crease formed between Angelo’s thick, dark brows. He looked like he didn’t approve of Yuri’s answer one bit, but he didn’t refute it, either. “Enough. I didn’t come all the way here just to argue with you, princess.”

“Then why did you come? Because that’s all you’ve done. I could be reading Kant right now.”

“You were sleeping under Kant when I came in,” Angelo pointed out.

“Details.” Yuri’s voice was light, but he could feel his pulse beat rapidly in his throat. The way Angelo stared at him—especially his mouth—was fraying him at the edges. He was a mouse to Angelo’s cat. It was only a moment before Angelo’s patience would snap and then it was Yuri who’d get eaten up. The thought made him shiver.

“I came here, you impossible thing, to fuck you.”

“Oh,” Yuri said because that was all he had breath for.

“Not that you’re making it easy on me,” Angelo complained.

Just to be contrary, Yuri said, “I don’t see why I should start now.”

That made Angelo smile and the smile made Yuri’s chest ache. “Good point, princess.”

“Um.” Yuri lost track of the conversation. He was lost in Angelo’s golden eyes.

Angelo cocked an eyebrow at him. “Yes?”

“Did you… uh…” Yuri, rarely at a loss for words, floundered. He had no idea how to say what he wanted without insulting the hell out of Angelo, which would be counter-productive to getting laid. At last. Thank god.

“Did I what?” Angelo’s voice was as warm and soothing as honey in tea.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” Yuri blurted, then he felt a blush crawl over his face and spread down his body. He wasn’t used to being this reticent, but on the other hand, he wasn’t used to Angelo being so unabashedly bold about sex. The reality of the situation was worlds apart from his fantasies.

Angelo snorted a laugh. “You’re a different gender than I’m used to, Yuri, not a different species. I’ve got the same bits you do and I know how they all work. I think I can manage.”

“I’ll have you know my bits are special,” Yuri retorted.

“I’m sure they are. Can we shag already?”

Despite all their banter, despite the taste of Angelo lingering in his mouth, and especially despite the erection pushing insistently into his thigh, Yuri’s breath caught in his throat. Angelo was serious. He meant it. He wanted to have sex with Yuri. It was the best and yet still the most frightening thing that had ever happened to him. The idea was even more terrifying than Francis hitting him and not stopping until Yuri was sobbing and begging and willing to do anything to make the pain cease. This was worse because if everything went wrong—hell, if anything at all went wrong—there would be no second chances. “What if” was always better than “never again.” But

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