AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Oliver’s breath caught in his throat at Mal’ik’s tone and the sound of his name. Steady, unbothered, unfooled maybe by Oliver’s prickliness. He wanted to take back his words and ask Mal’ik to stay instead. He bit his tongue.
When Mal’ik was halfway across the foyer, Oliver released it to choke out, “He never forgave me.”
Mal’ik footsteps stopped. The silence stretched. “Who never forgave you for what?”
“My father.” Oliver hung his head. He’d never said the words. Not to anyone. Everyone in the Turners’ orbit had known, but no one had ever said it. “My father never forgave me for losing that opportunity to Andrew Wate.”
Oliver still had his back to Mal’ik, but he heard the big man’s heavy footsteps advance on him. “Who is Andrew Wate and why the fuck does he matter?”
“He’s the man my mother left us for.” Oliver wanted to sink to the ground as all his childhood and present hurts rose to the surface. A mother who had abandoned him, a father who was disappointed in him, no one had ever—
Oliver sucked in a shaky breath and halted his thoughts before they could spiral to somewhere he’d gone enough times.
“Oh, Oliver.” Mal’ik wrapped his arms around him from behind and pulled him back against his chest. Oliver let his legs give out, knowing Mal’ik could hold his weight. Mal’ik’s tusks scraped against his scalp as Mal’ik nuzzled into his hair. “You didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve any of that. You still don’t.”
Oliver swallowed the lump in his throat and wiped away the few tears that had gathered in the corners of his eyes. “My father’s finally given me this second chance. I’ve worked my fucking ass off for this chance. I’m not going to ruin it, and I’m not going to let Emissary fucking Serihk ruin it for me either.”
Mal’ik tightened his arms around Oliver and pressed a kiss to his temple. “You don’t need to prove anything to anyone, Oliver, but…” He sighed and kissed his other temple. “But I understand needing approval from the people that matter.”
Oliver closed his eyes and let out a sigh that came out more like a sob. “Thank you.” For not making him justify or explain himself. For not telling him that he was a pathetic idiot. For holding him. When was the last time anyone had held him?
He turned his head to bury his nose in Mal’ik’s shoulder, where it caved around him, and inhaled deeply. The smell of musk and masculinity filled his nose, along with some other smell that was just Mal’ik that tugged his mind back to last night.
Warmth stirred in his belly.
He licked his lips and then drew the lower one between his teeth. He didn’t say anything, knowing his smell was communication enough. He felt rather than heard the growl in Mal’ik’s chest.
“Oliver.” Mal’ik’s warm hand crawled up Oliver’s chest to grasp his chin and lift it up. He nudged Oliver’s jaw until Oliver was craning his neck around to meet Mal’ik’s fiery eyes. He stared up at him, letting Mal’ik’s eyes search around his face and his eyes.
Oliver knew exactly what he was going to find there. Desire. Desperate, unabashed desire. “Please.”
Mal’ik descended on him before he even finished the word, and Oliver moaned as Mal’ik’s mouth met his, fierce and insistent. The big man crushed Oliver against his chest, practically lifting him off the floor and forcing his head around until his neck ached with the position.
The manhandling made Oliver moan, and he let his body go limp and pliant as his cock hardened. “Mal’ik.”
“Shh, I’ve got you.” Mal’ik lifted off his lips and turned Oliver’s head to the side to kiss down his throat. “I’ll take care of you.”
Oliver bit off a whimper at the words. He bit his lip and dropped his head back against Mal’ik’s shoulder. He flushed, so embarrassed to ask but wanting it desperately. “Say it again.”
Mal’ik’s hands spasmed where they were grasping his ribs and his hips. “I’ll take care of you, Oliver.” Mal’ik started undoing the buttons of Oliver’s shirt—quick and deft—parting the fabric to expose his chest to the warm Tava air. When Mal’ik’s flesh hand reached the bottom of Oliver’s torso, he dropped it down to palm Oliver through his pants. “I’m gonna take care of you.”
Oliver bucked into Mal’ik’s hand and gasped at the pleasure that shot up his spine.
“That’s right.” Mal’ik undid Oliver’s pants and then shoved them down his hips. Mal’ik stepped away from Oliver’s back just long enough to pull his shirt off and then crowded up against him again. Mal’ik buried his nose behind Oliver’s ear, his tusks scraping sensitive skin and making Oliver shiver, and inhaled deeply. “Fuck, you’re intoxicating. You’re fucking perfect, Oliver.”
Oliver could have cried with the praise. He wanted to be perfect for Mal’ik. He turned toward him, seeking out his lips, and Mal’ik met him with a low moan. He turned Oliver in his arms so that they were face-to-face and swept his tongue into his mouth. Oliver let his mouth drop open, loving the feeling of being invaded as Mal’ik pressed into him. Flashes of memories of other ways Mal’ik had entered him made his cock twitch and rub against the fabric of Mal’ik’s clothes.
Mal’ik’s clothes.
Oliver flushed as he realized that Mal’ik was still fully clothed, holding Oliver’s naked body tight against him. The dirtiness and vulnerability of it made his balls tighten, and he pulled away to look down and see a string of precum hanging between his own cockhead and the front of Mal’ik’s pants.
He was too turned on to register disgust. Instead, that smear of his own desire across Mal’ik made him bold. He grabbed the front of Mal’ik’s shirt and looked up at him. Mal’ik’s orange eyes were focused, his scarred face intense, and Oliver’s heart soared to be the focal point of that earnestness.
Oliver yanked him close to slot their mouths together again and pressed their hips together. He moaned against Mal’ik’s mouth as he rutted against him, unabashedly pleasuring himself on Mal’ik. Mal’ik’s fingers dug into Oliver’s hips as he urged Oliver on. Then he shook his head and nipped at Oliver’s lips.
“No, I know how I want to finish you, Oliver.” Mal’ik grabbed him around the ribs, his metal fingers digging in but not breaking the skin. He walked him backward and then tossed him onto the bed.
Oliver laughed as he bounced, delight sparking through him. It was fun to be with Mal’ik. Pleasurable and open and light. Oliver had practically forgotten there was even such a feeling as fun. He looked at Mal’ik still standing at the foot of the bed, grinning at him.
