Base Instincts by Larissa Ione

around his knees.
    Gods, the guy was so far gone, so desperate for sex, that the fact that Slake was male didn’t matter. But ultimately, it would matter, wouldn’t it? If Raze couldn’t climax—
    He heard the sound of Raze spitting, and he cranked his head around just enough to see him spreading moisture on his cock.
    Slake held his breath, his mind frantic as he considered his options, because even though his erection throbbed like a sonofabitch and his body craved Raze with an intensity he’d never experienced, his instincts screamed at him to fight back. His hands were free, and he knew he could stop this. He’d have to hurt Raze to do it, but hey, it wasn’t as if Slake hadn’t hurt—or killed—before.
    Raze looked up, meeting Slake’s gaze, and for a moment, time stilled. Behind the rage and pain deep inside Raze’s gold-flecked crimson eyes, there was recognition. A shadow of agony passed over his expression, and Slake’s heart stopped.
    Raze didn’t want to do this. “No,” Raze whispered, his voice a tormented rasp. “I . . . can’t . . .” He stumbled back a step, doubled over, and screamed. Screamed as if he were being skinned alive.
    He was going to let himself die.
    The stark reality knocked Slake upside the head like a blow from a troll’s meaty fist. Raze was a healer who would rather die than do harm. He wasn’t like Slake. He wasn’t like anyone Slake had ever met, and suddenly it wasn’t enough to merely get Raze help. Slake wanted— needed —to give Raze something he’d never given anyone.
    Total surrender.
    For the first time in his life, Slake stopped fighting. This wasn’t about him. It wasn’t about a battle to be accepted for his choices. It was about giving someone else what they needed.
    It was worth a try. Anything was worth a try.
    “Come to me, Raze,” he said. “Now.”
    There was no hesitation. Just a sudden weight, a sudden pressure against his ass, and then the fiery pain of being stretched. The pain yielded quickly to pleasure as Raze began to thrust. Desperately. Violently.
    Raze’s fingers dug into his skin, raking and gouging, but the agony only added to the mind-blowing wave of bliss crashing over Slake as Raze churned on top of him.
    Slake’s cock, pinched between his body and the mattress, didn’t seem to notice the lack of attention. With every pump of Raze’s hips, Slake felt as if he were being stroked. His erection pulsed and his balls tightened, and when Raze fell forward and bit into the curve between his neck and shoulder, Slake shouted in ecstasy.
    He came hard, hot wetness spreading across his belly. Raze was still going, the fury of his passion scorching Slake’s skin where they touched. Slake came again, so forcefully his vision flickered, and then Raze was roaring. For a second, Slake went cold, fearing Raze had reached the point of failure and pain, but then . . . then came the glorious sensation of being filled up.
    Erotic pulses shot straight to his groin, and another orgasm tore him apart. Shattered his mind. His senses. Everything went offline except his pleasure receptors, which were firing on overdrive. Time became one massive climax, and just as he was about to beg for mercy, because surely his heart couldn’t take any more, Raze stopped moving and collapsed on top of him.
    The sexual storm was over. They’d both survived.
    But what, really, did that mean?

 
    Awareness came slowly to Raze, clawing its way up from out of the black pit it had been buried in. A body lay beneath him. A hard body. A panting, heaving body that had clearly been strong enough to survive the sexual onslaught that Raze could only remember in bits and pieces as his mind attempted to assemble the puzzle of events.
    Something sticky coated his skin, and a metallic, smoky taste swirled around in his mouth. Blood? Why would there be blood?
    He shifted, hissing at the pain in his joints and muscles. His cock slipped from the warmth that had been