Chapter 90: Skin Against Skin

Hovering over Basil, Darius’s dark gaze locked onto Basil’s with steady, unyielding intensity as he lowered Basil’s arms to the pillows, pinning them gently but firmly beside his head. The weight of that stare alone felt like a physical thing—a warm, heavy hand pressing down on Basil’s chest, stealing the air from his lungs.

A shaky exhale slipped past Basil’s lips. His hips twitched upward instinctively as Darius’s fingers found the fastenings of his trousers, working them open with a slow, deliberate patience that made Basil’s pulse hammer in his throat. The fabric slid down his legs, along with his undergarments, and Basil moved to help, lifting his hips, bending his knees, letting Darius pull the last of his clothing away and discard it over the edge of the bed.

When Basil was fully naked beneath him, Darius sat back on his heels and just looked. The gaze traveled, from Basil’s parted lips to the hollow of his throat, down to the pink flush spreading across his chest, the tight peaks of his nipples, the jut of his hipbones, and finally to the stiff, leaking cock curving against Basil’s stomach.

Basil’s skin prickled under that slow inventory. The cool air of the room hit his bare flesh, raising goosebumps along his arms and thighs, and he swallowed hard, feeling self-conscious.

Does he like what he sees? The thought felt too small, too fragile to speak aloud. Or is he disappointed now that the clothes are gone?

"You’re beautiful," Darius said like it was a confession. His voice was low, rough at the edges. "You are so gorgeous, my prince."

Basil’s face burned.

He turned his head against the pillow, but Darius caught his chin with two fingers and turned it back, forcing him to hold that gaze. "Every night I dreamed about touching you," Darius murmured, his thumb tracing the line of Basil’s jaw, "and my imagination never got it right. You are so much more than I ever dared to hope." The words came out slow, reverent, like a prayer he’d been holding behind his teeth for years.

Basil couldn’t speak. His throat had closed around something warm and tight, and all he could do was stare up at Darius with wide, glistening eyes. Darius moved back over him.

The searing heat of his bare body covered Basil entirely, and Basil realized with a jolt that at some point Darius had stripped away the last of his own clothing, tossing it aside. The feel of him, skin to skin, chest to chest, the coarse hair on Darius’s thighs pressing against Basil’s, ripped a gasp from Basil’s lungs. His fingers dug into the solid muscles of Darius’s back, holding on like a man caught in a current.

"Darius..." Basil breathed, his head rolling back against the pillows. Every nerve in his body was singing. The weight of Darius on top of him, the scent of him, the hard press of his hips, it was too much and not enough all at once.

"Look at me, my prince," Darius commanded softly. Basil opened his eyes. His breath hitched as he met Darius’s gaze. The blue in those eyes was dark, blown wide with desire, but underneath it lay a profound, quiet gravity that made Basil’s heart ache. Darius braced his weight on his forearms and kissed him, slower this time, deeper, his tongue sliding against Basil’s with a deliberate, savoring rhythm. Basil moaned into his mouth, wrapping his legs around Darius’s waist, pulling him down until their cocks slid together, hot and slick with precome.

The friction punched a sound out of both of them.

Darius broke the kiss, his forehead dropping to Basil’s shoulder, his breath hot and ragged against the skin there.

"Gods," he rasped. "You feel...Basil, I can’t—"

"Please don’t stop." Basil’s hands fisted in Darius’s hair, holding him close.

"I’m never planning to," Darius said against his shoulder, the words muffled but fierce. "Not even if the whole world is burning down."

He rolled his hips, a slow, grinding thrust that dragged their lengths together, and Basil saw white at the edges of his vision. He bit down on Darius’s shoulder to keep from crying out, teeth sinking into flesh, and Darius made a low, approving sound in response.

"Again," Darius said. "Mark me more, my prince."

Basil did. Harder this time, teeth pressing deeper, and Darius rewarded him with another roll of his hips, faster now, a rhythm that built with each thrust until they were both slick with sweat, breathing in harsh, broken gasps. Then Darius captured his lips again, and Basil understood in that moment that he was becoming addicted to this, to the taste of Darius’s mouth, the slide of his tongue, the way he kissed like he was trying to memorize the shape of Basil’s lips.

Who could have known kissing him would be this consuming?

Darius kissed along his jaw, down the column of his throat, teeth grazing the pulse point. His mouth moved lower, lips closing around one nipple, tongue flicking the tight peak while his fingers found the other, rolling and pinching in a rhythm that made Basil arch off the bed.

"Arh..hh...Darius—" Every touch sent a fresh jolt of heat straight to his cock. Basil’s fingers twisted in the sheets. His thighs trembled. He was making sounds he’d never heard himself make before, high, desperate little whimpers that Darius seemed to drink down like wine.

Darius’s fingers trailed lower, tracing the line of Basil’s hip, then wrapping around both their cocks together in a tight, wet grip. Basil’s back bowed off the mattress. A strangled moan ripped from his throat. He’d done this to himself several times in the privacy of his own suite, but never imagined, never dreamed, that another hand could feel this different. Darius’s palm was rough and warm, his grip sure, and the slick slide of their lengths together made Basil’s vision blur.

He bucked up into that fist, chasing more friction, more pressure, more of everything. The sounds leaving his mouth were shameless, broken gasps, choked-off cries, Darius’s name repeated like a prayer. "Look at me," Darius demanded. "I want to see your face when you come apart."

Basil forced his eyes open, meeting that burning blue gaze, and the intimacy of it, the raw, unguarded need staring back at him, was almost more than he could bear. His hips bucked into Darius’s fist, chasing the pressure, the heat, the unbearable closeness of it.

"I’m close," Basil gasped. "Darius, I’m—"

Darius immediately let go, and Basil sobbed in frustration, his hips thrusting into empty air, his cock twitching and leaking against his stomach.

"Not yet," Darius said, his voice rough but steady. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the corner of Basil’s trembling mouth. "I want you to come with my dick inside you. I want to be inside you when you come. I want to feel you tighten around me."