“You were the one who started it.”
“And I’m the one who’ll stop it. I’m not going to tell you much of what happened with Helen. For your own sake. There’s no need for you to know. The story is that we were at the beginnings of a relationship when you were beaten up in a mugging and I was caught up in an argument between Dima and his father. That’s all it needs to be. Coincidence that we were both in hospital at the same time, though not the same hospital.”
“O…kay.”
“It’s not that I don’t trust you, bratkin. You know I do, but the less you know about what I do, the better. It’s been set up that we haven’t known one another long. It would be dangerous for me to have you knowing too much.”
“I get it.”
“Helen has left an iPhone for you.”
“Does it have a tracker in?”
“Yes. But so do most phones. Don’t even think about it. It’s just to keep you safe.”
Zain whined. “So if I go to a strip club, you’ll know. Ouch.”
Roman had pinched him.
“When are you going to Moscow?”
“Straight after Arkady’s funeral. I’ll be back in a few weeks.”
“Promise? And you’ll be careful?”
Roman kissed his forehead. “I promise.” He fumbled in his pocket and held out a closed fist. “This is for you.”
Zain held out his hand and Roman put his piece of meteorite in the middle of Zain’s palm. “For me? Are you sure? This is your most precious thing.”
Roman smiled. “No, that would be you.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Zain lay on the bed and groaned. “I ate too much. The shower did not make me feel better. You lied. And why have I had to put my jeans on?”
Roman settled next to him. “The shower made me feel better. I needed dessert. As for your jeans, I like taking them off. Promise to cook properly for yourself while I’m away. No more than three spoons of peanut butter a week.”
“A week?”
“Hmm. I’ve transferred some money to your bank account to pay for food and books and anything else you need.”
“Helen said they’d set up a student grant.”
“You don’t need it. I’ll pay your fees and expenses.”
Zain opened his mouth and shut it again. He didn’t want to argue on their last night for three weeks. But there was something he wanted to tell Roman. His final secret.
“You remember me telling you about all those firsts?” Zain whispered. “First kiss? First blowjob?”
“I wish I’d never given you money,” Roman whispered back.
“It was a lot for a blowjob. But it was a good blowjob, right?”
Roman chuckled.
“Maybe not something we’d want to tell the kids when they ask how we met.” Zain smiled back at him, wondering what he’d see in Roman’s face.
Roman smiled back. “Nor can we tell them how I hauled you out of the party because I realised I couldn’t let anyone else touch you. I knew you were innocent then. Not my type until I registered you were exactly my type.”
“So… the first…”
“I remember what you said. The first…that counted. You don’t have to tell me what you’re thinking about revealing. I can guess.” Roman curled a lock of Zain’s hair around his finger.
“Which is why I want to tell you so that you understand. It wasn’t rape.”
“Okay.”
“I’ve never told anyone what happened. It was when I was in France with Amena and her family. I had more money than them, from the translation work. Amena’s money had come from begging. I could… I could have paid for myself to cross the channel but Elias asked me to help them. He was dying and he knew it. Three thousand miles and the last twenty something miles turned out to be the biggest hurdle.”
Roman wrapped his fingers around Zain’s and held tight.
“I looked for someone with a boat who might take pity on us, on the children, and accept the money we did have.”
Zain shivered, suddenly cold.
“It was me who found the guy, Ehsan, but his price…”
Zain could feel himself shrinking, getting smaller and smaller. Roman entwined his legs with his as if he worried he’d lose him. That wasn’t going to happen, unless Roman couldn’t deal with what he was going to tell him.
“I didn’t want to do it but it wasn’t rape. That would have been harder to handle. I told myself I had no choice. It was my decision. The way we could get to England. I thought that might make it easier, but it didn’t. The Iranian took me to a quiet part of the beach and fucked me. He used a condom and lube. I suppose I should be grateful about that.”
Zain took a deep breath and didn’t look at Roman. “Anyway, I let him do what he wanted, then he drove us about twenty miles down the coast and you know what happened next. I wish he hadn’t been my first. I wish it had been you.”
“It was me in every way that matters. You did more than anyone should have been expected to do. I feel sick you had to do it. Sick that your first time should have been forced on you. But thank you for telling me. I’m glad you did.”
Zain snuggled against him.
“I want a different first for you,” Roman whispered. “It’s something I thought about when we were in that playroom. The idea of letting you fuck me.”
“Oh God.”
“But I figured out it wasn’t the right time. Yes, I’d be submitting to you but I didn’t want our first time to be with me tied up so that I could let you top me. That might be fun, just to switch sometimes, but I’m too dominant to let it happen often. I thought. But I’ve changed. You’ve changed me.”
“Not that much. I like you bossy.”
“I like you trying to top from the bottom, bratkin. But… Do you want to fuck me?”
Zain’s mouth was so dry, he had to suck to bring moisture back to it. “You mean now or at some point?”
Roman smiled. “The coward in me is yelling take the out. Some point is fine. But my heart is telling me now. My arse is telling me what the fucking hell are you thinking?”
Zain let out a choked laugh.
“While I sat in that cell in Thames House I did a lot of thinking. Most of it about you. I thought, one day, I’d get my head around the idea of letting you fuck me. I’d wait until you begged me. But the truth is that I wanted you to make me beg. I wanted you to make me wait until I was desperate to feel your cock inside me. I wanted you to drag it out as long as you could.”
Zain wailed. “Too late. I’ve come in my jeans.”
Roman nipped his ear. “No you haven’t. So…what do you think?”
“About what?”
“Zain!”
“How come I feel as if you’ve asked me to do a bungee jump and you’re expecting me to look calm?”
“I’m a spy, remember?”
“Oh yeah, and you were shot.”
“Fuck me,” Roman whispered.
“Really?” Zain whispered.
“How many times do you want me to say it?” Roman nuzzled into the hollow of Zain’s throat and Zain groaned.
“Thirty-seven.” Zain yelped as Roman bit his Adam’s apple, then sighed when that was followed by Roman licking the hollow at the base of his larynx.
Zain whined when Roman peeled up his T-shirt, bunching the material to pin Zain’s hands over his head. Roman planted a trail of kisses down to the waistband of Zain’s jeans, then back up to his throat, following the curve of his jaw to his ear. One of Zain’s trigger spots and the more Roman played there, teasing and licking and sucking, the more Zain quivered against him.
“You’re not giving… Oh fuck.” Zain cried out as Roman rocked into him, shoving his cock against Zain’s. Even through their jeans, it felt good.
Roman kept Zain’s arms pinned above his head and dropped his mouth to Zain’s collar bone, his fingers following his lips as he teased him.
Zain knew this was Roman’s way of showing he was nervous. He
was still taking charge. But Zain slid from the bed and stripped his jeans off himself.
“Clothes off,” he said to Roman.
When Roman didn’t move, Zain leaned over and stared into his eyes. “Now.”
Roman removed them and lay on his side, his cock stretching up to his navel.
Zain swallowed hard. “You want to build up to this? I could go and buy a set of dildos. Six inch, seven and eight and then you’d be okay with my monster. Though maybe it is a big jump to twelve inches.”
And just like that, he watched Roman’s fear evaporate under laughter.
Zain huffed. “Hey! Don’t laugh. I could take it personally.”
Zain lay down next to him, stroked his hair, spread his fingers on Roman’s face and slipped his index finger into Roman’s mouth.
Roman bit it and Zain yelped. “Ouch.”
“Do it,” Roman blurted.
Zain gaped at him. “What the fuck? I am not just doing it. This is going to be a demonstration of how even someone who’s never done this before can make a really good job of it.” He paused. “Probably. Oops. Sorry. My inner voice burst through my slave persona. Of course, master, if you wish me to just do it, I will indeed do my very best to…just do it.”
Zain tossed lube and a condom on the bed. “Sure?”
“Stop asking me, bratkin.” Roman dropped onto his back, brought up his knees and spread them.
Zain leaned between Roman’s legs and as he kissed him, lowered his weight onto Roman. Roman slid his hands onto Zain’s arse and squeezed, pulling Zain into him so that their cocks rubbed together.
“Did I tell you I love you?” Zain said.
“Not often enough.”
Zain smiled and worked his way down the centre of Roman’s body slowly, muttering the words “I love you” between every kiss. When he reached Roman’s cock, he looked up at him. “Think you can manage not to toss me to the other side of the room if you do freak out? Remember, you were—”
“Shut the fuck up.”
Zain slid down to lick Roman’s cock then took his balls into his mouth. The sounds that Roman made curled through Zain’s body and pierced his heart. He crouched between Roman’s legs and moved his mouth beyond his balls, over the sensitive strip of skin to his hole and Roman let out a ragged groan. Now Zain knew how good it felt, he wanted to do it to Roman. He fluttered his tongue around and around Roman’s arsehole, licking over it, kissing it, circling, pushing until he slid a little way inside. Roman was making unintelligible sounds, though Zain caught don’t stop among them.
He fumbled for the lube, found it and the condom was pressed in his hand and dragged them down the bed. Roman had his hand around the base of his cock, squeezing hard and Zain smiled. He squirted lube on his fingers and put them where his tongue had been, pressing, urging Roman to give way. Then his finger broke through the muscle barrier and they both sucked in a breath.
Zain slid his finger deeper, curled it to stroke Roman’s prostate and Roman let out a shuddering sigh.
“Okay?” Zain asked.
“Yeh.”
“It’s not the most magical thing you’ve ever felt?”
“Zain!”
Zain carefully turned one finger into two and the only thing that came from Roman’s mouth then was a hoarse cry followed by another hoarse cry until sounds were pouring out of him—mostly in Russian.
Zain came up on his knees, and pulled on the condom.
“There’s a little difficulty,” Zain mumbled.
Roman looked at him through half-lidded eyes.
“Doesn’t look little. You might have been joking about the twelve inches but you seem to have had a growth spurt.”
Zain’s chest heaved and he bit his lip as he applied lube to his cock. “I don’t want to fuck this up.” Then he frowned. “I mean I bet the first time you did this, you managed about three thrusts before you came, right?”
“It’s okay.”
“No it’s not. What if I don’t even get inside you before I come? What if the moment I start pushing, I erupt like a volcano?”
“You think the longer you talk, the less likely that is?”
“Noooo,” Zain wailed.
“Then fuck me.”
When Zain brushed the head of his cock against the entrance to Roman’s body, it was Zain who tensed, not Roman. Roman stared into Zain’s eyes and smiled. “Do it.”
“The shin bone’s connected to the knee bone. The knee bone’s connected to the thigh bone. The thigh bone’s connected…” Zain sucked in a breath and pushed.
Roman gasped. “Fuck, fuck.”
Zain froze for a moment until he saw Roman relax. Then he pushed again, slowly, felt Roman push back against him and his cock slid into Roman’s body. All of it. Fuuuuuuck.
“My thumb feel okay?” Zain panted. “Ready for the big boy?”
Roman let out a choked laugh. Zain leaned over and kissed him. Roman wrapped his arms around him and held on tight.
Zain pulled his head up and rested it on Roman’s shoulder. “Power nap,” he muttered. “Right I’m fine now. Ready?”
“I’m not sure I’m going to let you do this again.” But Roman smiled as he said it.
Zain pushed up on his hands, withdrew his cock, flexed his hips to thrust back inside and drove a gasp from Roman’s throat. So good. So good. He wasn’t the only one who thought so. Roman had his hands clenched on Zain’s arse, pulling him in, and the cries he was making told Zain he was nailing his prostate.
Lightning crackled in Zain’s head as he drove into him. Do not come yet. Roman took one hand off Zain’s arse and wrapped it around his own cock, working it in the same rhythm that Zain was fucking him.
“Okay,” Zain panted. “I know what I’m doing now. Okay if I speed up?”
Their bodies were slamming together, they were soaked in perspiration and Zain bet Roman’s heart was pounding at least as fast as his.
“Thirty minutes… That’s enough, right?… Did okay? … Oh God.” Zain shifted into shorter, faster shunts, the need to come overriding everything.
The room echoed with their ragged cries, the sound of slick flesh slapping together. Roman’s hips bucked and he worked his cock faster. Control slipped, if it had ever been there. Roman tensed, then cried out, thick spurts of come landing on his belly and chest and fingers.
Zain waited as Roman came and when Roman opened his eyes, Zain stared at him.
“Don’t blink,” Zain said.
A couple more thrusts and Zain felt his balls draw up, his cock swell, then he was coming, filling the condom, stars in his head as he collapsed onto Roman’s chest. Roman held him tight. They came down together, cocks softening, heart rates steadying. They were a hot, sweaty, sticky mess and Zain had never felt happier.
“Marks out of ten,” Zain mumbled as he disposed of the condom into a handful of tissues.
“I’ve no one to compare you to, apart from me.”
Zain lifted his head and gaped at him. “You’ve fucked yourself?”
Roman laughed. “No. I’m not that flexible. It was great, bratkin. You feel good. You made me feel good. I hadn’t thought I could find humour in being fucked but I was wrong. I never thought I would find anyone like you and here you are. You’re my first love and my last.”
“You run a close second to peanut butter.”
Roman flipped them over so that he was on top of Zain.
“My first and last love.” Zain smiled. “How could you be anything else. You have a perfect damaged heart that matches mine and we’re going to mend them together.”
Epilogue
Five years later
Roman glanced at Zain, asleep in the passenger seat, his head resting against the window, and pressed his foot on the accelerator.
“You do realise Helen won’t give you a pass on a speeding ticket,” Zain said without even opening his eyes.
“I’m only going seventy.” Well, now he’d eased off the pedal.
Zain yaw
ned and sat up in the seat. “Want me to drive?”
“No thanks.”
“I still freak you out, don’t I, when I take the wheel?”
“You being in charge of anything freaks me out. Apart from when you’re wearing your white coat.”
Zain chuckled and stretched in the seat. “We really need this break.”
“You really need it. You’ve worked so hard.”
Roman had been staggered by the hours Zain had to put in, how much he needed to learn. It wasn’t uncommon for Roman to wake in the night and find Zain had gone to study in another room. But Zain had never complained about his workload, had never not made time for Roman.
When Zain had seen Arkady’s house, or rather the hot tub in the garden, Roman had been persuaded to sell his place and move. Roman had found buyers for all of Arkady’s artwork and furniture that they didn’t want. He’d thought MI5 might have confiscated Arkady’s wealth but they didn’t. If Roman was to play the role Arkady had, then he needed the trappings. He’d slid relatively easily into Arkady’s shoes. Uncomfortably easily in some ways but his master was still MI5—mostly. And occasionally the FSB. Roman never cut off any exit.
Once Zain had fully qualified, he wanted to specialise in emergency medicine and Roman knew that mean long shifts, late nights and stress, but he was Zain’s stress release and while Zain was living his dream, Roman would support him every step of the way. Just as Zain supported him. BDSM was a tiny part of their world, so tiny, anyone into the scene would probably roll their eyes but Roman liked playing and had never taken anything so far that Zain had needed to stop him. And when they swapped roles, Roman liked that too. Roman hadn’t thought too hard about why he’d not wanted to go further, but he knew it had a lot to do with the way Zain made him feel.
“I have told you how proud I am of you, haven’t I?” Zain smiled at him.
“Of me? I’m just selling and buying homes and…other things for rich Russians.”
“I know you do more than that.”
They didn’t often talk about Roman’s undercover work. It hadn’t turned out to be as stomach-churning as he’d anticipated. Rather than having to continually arrange money transfers for those wishing to launder currency, it was more a matter of warning his current controller of those people who needed watching, those who had suspiciously large amounts of money. Not all information could be acted on. Sometimes because it would be unsafe for Roman, and on other occasions because the authorities were biding their time. An increasing amount of Roman’s work was entirely legitimate but two years had morphed to five as Roman suspected it would. He’d talked it over with Zain and they’d agreed that while Roman enjoyed doing what he did, and Zain was still studying, he’d continue. But he was thinking that when Zain started his first permanent job, he’d find something else to do.
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