Love in the Land of Fire by Brochu, Rebecca (spanish books to read .txt) 📕

completely dominate the other male. Rafe breaks the kiss, gasping for air and moaning openly as his head tips back, pressing deeper into the grip on his neck and exposing his throat and collar to Josiah’s hungry gaze.

It’s an instinctual move, the desire to show off for a dominant, the urge to entice a fitting and worthy partner with his unclaimed status, and the sight of it has Josiah practically snarling in victory. Rafe wants him as well, wants to be claimed on some level as much as Josiah wants to be the one doing the claiming. If he didn’t, if their desires didn’t match to some degree, Rafe would not respond so beautifully, would not be showing off his collar and trying to entice Josiah into claiming him.

His hand tightens slightly, as his head dips down until he can taste Rafe’s neck, can rack teeth and tongue across the tempting expanse, and suck tiny bruises into the vulnerable skin. He runs his tongue across the smooth surface of the collar, tongue flirting with the inlaid rubies and dragging lightly across the sensitive area where silver meets skin. Rafe bucks against him and Josiah tightens his hand in reprimand, pleased and aroused when he can actually feel Rafe’s knees weaken at the silent command even as the submissive obeys and stills.

Josiah pulls himself away from the mesmerizing taste and feel of Rafe, dragging his lips and tongue up across the exposed side of his neck so that he can whisper hotly in the submissive’s ear.

“Such a good boy, Rafe, such a sweet, beautiful boy. You were made to be ruled, made for me to own.”

He claims Rafe’s mouth in another searing kiss, reveling in the breathless gasp and shaky moan it prompts.

“You’ll be so pretty for me, won’t you? So sweet and delicious when I have you begging, wanting what only I can give you. I can’t wait to have you bare and spread open before me.”

Rafe shudders, a full body tremor that Josiah can feel perfectly, and it goes straight to his cock. He urges Rafe’s arms above his head with his free hand before grasping them both tightly and pinning them back against the wall. He feels Rafe go still against him, the tiny, almost unnoticed rocking of his hips stopping abruptly, but it doesn’t really register with him, doesn’t penetrate the fog of lust and need that’s slowly taking him over.

“P-Please, Josiah.”

3The plea comes out quietly, almost too quietly, and when Josiah hears it he takes it as a plea for more, more touch, more sensation. Just more. So he rocks his body against Rafe’s again as he mouths at the sensitive skin behind his ear. He loves the feel of his cock rubbing against the submissive’s, even muted as it is by the multiple layers of leather and cloth. It’s a heady feeling, something he wants more of even though it’s enough to drive him mad. He wants Rafe bare, wants to feel all of that silky skin against his own as he takes the other man down and apart.

“Oh the things I’ll make you do. I’ll make you love me and what I can give you.”

Josiah isn’t sure what happens. He only knows that Rafe goes from being still to in motion between one breath and the next. The submissive thrashes like a wild thing, his sudden struggling ripping his arms out of Josiah’s hold. Josiah’s too stunned, still buried too deep in his dominant headspace to dodge the punch that lands on his jaw and sends him staggering back a step.

Anger rips through him instantly, anger at Rafe for disobeying him so blatantly, and anger at himself for being caught off guard. He’s on Rafe then, hands grabbing and holding as he struggles to back the submissive against the wall once again. Rafe doesn’t make it easy. He’s a fighter through and through and he’s obviously spooked. He’s highly trained, clearly comfortable with his body, and knows how to move in a fight, but he’s panicking and Josiah is better. Still it takes the blond man a moment or two to get a handle on him, to get him sandwiched tightly between the wall and his own body like before but without the lust and the passion.

Josiah has one hand wrapped around Rafe’s wrists and the other around the front of his throat in a cruel echo of their earlier passion filled embrace. They’re both breathing heavily and Rafe’s eyes are wide with fear, but Josiah can see the panic laced calculations running behind that entrancing green, even as Rafe holds his now caged in body as straight as possible.

His hand tightens warningly around Rafe’s throat when the younger male shifts slightly as if he’s about to make another escape attempt.

“Submit.” Josiah hisses the word out through clinched teeth as he struggles with his own urges, struggles with the need to immediately see to Rafe’s punishment for acting so out of turn.

He sees the moment when fear turns to full-blown panic, sees the terror overtake the dark-haired sub, so he’s ready for the next round of fear-induced struggling. He rides it out, uses his body weight to keep Rafe pressed against the wall and in place. The fear he sees in the other man’s eyes, the terror that’s only growing instead of fading, helps him to lock down on his own desires, that deep-seated need to show Rafe his place as he realizes slowly that something beyond his understanding is taking place.

He loosens his grip on Rafe, watches as the fear retreats a bit but still not far enough for his liking as he forces his expression to soften, for the anger to drain from his features bit by bit.

“Rafe, I’m not going to hurt you. You know that so explain this to me. Tell me what’s wrong.” He