“Give yourself to me.” Read the Story below🌹

One heavy drop of water runs down the side of the whiskey glass as Max sits in the dark, his mood just as heavy.

The door behind him clicks open.

A disheveled, flushed Damien steps inside, kicking off his shoes, then stopping when he sees Max still awake.

“I called you.”

His voice is low, rough from alcohol and exhaustion.

“My phone died.”

Damien shrugs off his jacket, acting indifferent as he walks past Max toward the bedroom, peeling his shirt over his head as he goes.

“Where have you been?”

Damien stops at the bedroom door but doesn’t turn around. “Out.”

“With who?”

Silence.

Damien finally looks over his shoulder. “Does it even matter?”

He scoffs and pushes the bedroom door open — when suddenly Max is behind him, slamming his hand against the frame.

Damien pushes at his chest. “I want to shower. Move.”

Max steps closer, blocking the exit. He smells like alcohol and cologne, and it makes Damien’s mouth water despite himself. Biting his lips, he averts his gaze.

Why does he always have to confuse him? One moment he’s cold, distant,  the next he’s burning...

Max’s fingers tighten around Damien’s jaw, lifting his head until their noses nearly brush, their gazes locking in a clash of heat and barely restrained anger.

“Let me look at you for a moment.”

Damien’s pulse jumps under his touch.

And then Max sees it...a vivid mark on Damien’s neck and something inside him snaps.

His jaw clenches so hard it aches, tension rising straight to his temples. His grip tightens — not enough to hurt, but enough to claim as Damien´s defiant, beautiful eyes staring back at him without an apology.

“Was it good?” Max asks, his voice turning rough. “Did you have fun?”

“Fun?” Damien laughs dryly, stepping closer instead of backing away. “You’re asking if I had fun?”

He tilts his head, challenging.

“Why do you care? It’s not like you could do anything about my desires, can you?”

Max’s jaw tightens.

He grabs Damien by the throat, firmly.

Damien’s smirk falters for half a second, then returns as he wraps his fingers around the veiny hand at his throat.

“What about your desires?” he pushes softly.

Max’s grip wavers as Damien leans into his touch instead of fighting it.

“Do you even have any?...”

Their eyes lock.

Damien slowly guides Max’s hand upward, brushing his lips against his knuckles in deliberate provocation. His gaze never breaks...

Max’s breathing deepens, his senses sharpening as he watches Damien graze his mouth over his fingertips, before slowly drawing one between his lips with a soft, wet sound.

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