“Shit!” Josiah immediately holsters his gun, wraps one hand around Rafe’s shoulder and spins him around until they’re face to face. Anger flares through him, anger at himself for not recognizing the other male sooner, anger at Rafe for not being where he was supposed to be in the first place. It all comes spilling out of him before he can think twice about it.
“What in the fuck were you doing? What in the hell possessed you to leave the apartment? I’ve seen your test scores, Zweil, so you’ve got no excuse for acting like a fucking idiot!”
Josiah shakes Rafe hard once before letting go of the submissive as if burned. Raking a hand through his blond hair he stalks towards the nearest switch and turns the dial all the way up until the apartment is flooded with light. In the now bright room he can see Rafe’s face clearly, can see an anger that matches his own rising up in the man, which is at odds with the mostly meek behavior he’s shown to Josiah since they’ve been together.
“I wasn’t aware that I was a prisoner, Marx, or that you’re apparently my warden. Although I suppose that was a foolish assumption to make. After all a cage is still a cage even if the bars are pretty this time around.”
“Damn it all to hell, Rafe, that’s not what I meant and you fucking know it!”
“Are you sure about that, Josiah? Do you really not want to keep me locked away, hidden from the outside world like every-fucking-body else seems to?”
Josiah has no control over himself as he lunges forward, buries one hand in Rafe’s silky hair and yanks the submissive forward. Their lips meet harshly, all teeth and no finesse and Josiah runs his tongue roughly along the seam of Rafe’s mouth, a pleased growl rumbling in his chest when the he opens for him. Josiah sweeps inside, his tongue tangling hotly with Rafe’s even as he begins to crowd the submissive against the nearest wall.
They fit together perfectly, the long lean plains of Rafe’s body slotting into the more thickly muscled valleys of Josiah’s as if they’d been carved from the same single piece of stone, broken and divided and only now reunited. Josiah groans low in his throat at the feel of Rafe pressed against him and his cock hardens instantly at the combined sensations of touch and taste. Rafe echoes his groan and the sound of pleasure from the submissive doubles Josiah’s arousal, making him helpless to do anything but press closer, driving their bodies together and Rafe further against the wall.
Their tongues slide against and around each other, spit slick and eager to taste, to consume one another. Josiah knew it would be like this, knew it would be perfect and all-consuming the moment he laid eyes on Rafe. His hand loosens its tight grip in Rafe’s hair and slides slowly through the cool, thick locks to curl firmly around the back of the submissive’s neck, unable to control the impulse to 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.”
The 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.”