Eve drifts toward the bedroom, tugging pillows into place on the wide bed.
Dante’s hands are still on me—mapping every inch of my back, my hips, the curve of my ass, the tension in my thighs. He pulls me tighter, groaning as we grind together, the friction almost too much. But not enough.
We stagger backward, mouths fused.
He walks me into the bedroom like a man possessed.
When we reach the bed, Dante steps behind me, wrapping one arm around my chest while the other strokes me—slow and firm. His palm curves around my throat as he leans in and whispers against my ear,
“Do you trust me to take care of you,bug?”
I nod instantly. “Yes, Dante. I trust you.”
His hand tightens a fraction. His voice drops lower.
“Am I going to be the first to fuck your virgin ass?”
The way he says it—like a promise, like a vow—makes me whimper.
“Yes.”
He growls, biting down on the curve of my neck as both his hands fist my cock.
“That’s right, baby. This tight little hole is mine to ruin, isn’t it?”
“Yes—fuck—yes.”
“I’m going to be your first and your only,” he murmurs, dragging his mouth over my shoulder. “Is that what you want?”
I choke on a breath. “God, yes.”
His next words rumble through me.
“Then lay down for me, beautiful boy. She’s going to get you ready.”
Eve waits on the bed, lit softly by the city glow bleeding through the windows. Pillows prop up my hips as I sink into the mattress—everything exposed, everything open.
She rolls a condom over my cock with the same care she might unwrap something sacred, then straddles me and sinks down in one slow, delicious motion.
I grip her hips, moaning into the space between us, feeling every tight clench of her around me.
She rides me slow, each glide a tease.
“Just relax, okay?”
I nod, and she rolls her hips.
Between my legs, Dante kneels. His hands trail up my calves, then my thighs, spreading me wider.
He kisses the inside of one knee, then the other—like a prayer.
Then comes the lube.
His fingers—slick and sure—slide over me, coaxing me open again.
I shake. Half holding my breath, half afraid of what comes next. Not just because of what it means. Because it’s a line that can never be uncrossed.
But also because Dante is fucking huge.
