Reza’s only response is a garbled noise, not quite a yes but close enough to have heat pulsing at the bottom of Vince’s spine. “Wanted that too,” Vince admits. “Always f*****g want you.”
And the admission isn’t really meant for Reza, but it has him choking out a sweet, exquisitely high sound and coming, body tight on Vince’s, eyes slipping closed with the force of it.
“Knew it,” Reza breathes, still riding waves. He grins, lazy and sharp all at once.
Later, Vince will wonder if it’s the self-satisfaction rolling off Reza’s bruise-stained body that tips him over the edge, or the black ice glitter of his eyes when he looks up at him. The sincerity of the pleasure in the dark irises.
At the moment, it doesn’t matter. Vince comes hard, world going black at the edges, staying in the tight c
