Andy squirmed in his embrace like a cat being told it’s bath time. “Funny, I don’t remember signing any contract aboutprizes. Did you slip that clause in while I was busy trying to suck your soul out through your cock?”
“That’s true,” Matt conceded, his hands mapping Andy’s body like a favorite territory. “But since it’s a bet, the winner has to claim something. House rules, baby. Even the penny slots pay out eventually.”
“Fine,” Andy huffed with mock exasperation. “What’s your pleasure then, Casino Royale? Want me to comp you a room?”
Matt’s answer was a slow, wicked smile. “How about we finish off making each other come together? The sun’s about to crash our party, and unlike some unemployed oral enthusiasts I know, I actually have an empire to run today.”
Andy’s eager nod could’ve given a bobblehead doll competition. Matt moved with ease, positioning Andy on all fours before enveloping him from behind like a living blanket of muscle and heat. He slipped his cock between Andy’s thighs, groaning at the perfect friction as he wrapped his hand around Andy’s eager length.
“This is nice,” Matt murmured against Andy’s nape, his voice a low growl. “Squeeze those thighs tighter for me, baby. Yeah… good boy.”
As they moved together in a rhythm that would’ve made dance instructors jealous, Andy managed to ask between gasps, “You really don’t want anything else for winning? No trophy? No victory lap around the penthouse?”
“So you want to get me something else?” Matt teased, nipping at Andy’s ear. “Careful there, tiger. Last time someone offered me a consolation prize, I ended up owning half the Strip. But we can definitely… negotiate terms after this performance review.”
Matt claimed Andy’s lips with the intensity of a desert storm, his kiss hard and deep as if trying to merge their souls. The taste of Andy was more intoxicating than the finest whiskey inhis casino’s vault, and the little sounds he made were sweeter than any jackpot chime. His hand worked Andy’s cock with the precision of a master craftsman, each stroke a deliberate symphony designed to drive his lover wild.
Their bodies moved together in a perfect dance—a wild, passionate rhythm that had them both spiraling toward oblivion. The friction between Andy’s thighs was exquisite torture, the heat of their bodies mingling like the perfect blend of pleasure and need. Matt’s thrusts grew hotter and harder, his hand matching the tempo as if he was trying to set a new world record.
Each stroke of Matt’s hand was calculated to drive Andy crazy—a slide up, a twist at the crown, a gentle squeeze that had Andy gasping and arching beneath him. The tension built between them like a gathering storm, each move bringing them closer to the edge of paradise.
When they finally came, it was like the world exploded into stardust—a maelstrom of sensation that left them clinging to each other as if they could stop time itself. Matt felt the shudder that ran through Andy’s body, heard the moan that spilled from those well-kissed lips, and knew this was better than all his billions combined.
Spent and sated, Andy collapsed onto the bed, sprawling out like a cat that got both the cream and the canary. Matt followed him down, pressing a tender kiss to the nape of Andy’s neck before rolling them over so Andy lay atop him, their sweat-slicked skin creating the perfect slide of limbs.
“Well, that was worth every torturous second of celibacy,” Matt murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction. “Just wait until you’re fully healed, pet. I’ll show you what a week of pent-up creativity can really do.” He squeezed Andy’s ass appreciatively, earning a delightful wiggle in response.
Andy’s chuckle vibrated against Matt’s chest. “Oh, and don’t think I’ve forgotten about the ties and light bondage, Mr. Control Freak,” he reminded with a wicked glint in his eye. “After how you tortured me last time, I’ve been taking notes. Consider this your official notice—revenge will be served hot, bothered, and thoroughly tied up.”
Matt threw his head back and laughed, the sound bouncing off the penthouse walls. “Looking forward to being at your mercy,” he purred, capturing those teasing lips in another kiss that promised future delights. “Should I update my insurance policy first?”
With one final, lingering caress, Matt rolled Andy onto his back and swung his legs out of bed. His muscles sang with postcoital bliss as he stretched, fully aware of Andy’s appreciative gaze on his naked form. “Time for this workaholic to earn his keep,” he announced, heading for the shower.
“No rest for the wicked, huh?” Andy called out sarcastically, propping himself up on his elbows like a debauched angel. “What’s on today’s agenda? World domination? Corrupting more innocent boys?”
Matt shot him a roguish grin over his shoulder. “World domination’s on hold—got a board meeting at ten. As for corrupting…” His eyes sparkled with promise. “Between the two of us, you’re definitely the one with the PhD in wickedness, sweetheart.”
Stepping into the en suite, Matt let the water cascade over him like a warm summer rain, washing away the remnants of their passion. The steam curled around him like a comforting shroud, and he lingered there, allowing the heat to seep into his muscles. Twenty minutes later, wrapped in a plush bathrobe that hugged his frame, he emerged to find Andy lost to the world again, breaths even and deep in sleep. The sight of him sprawledacross the bed was a stark contrast to the impish vixen who had left him breathless just moments ago.
Matt couldn’t help but smile as he bent down to kiss Andy’s forehead, his fingers tracing the line of Andy’s cheek with a featherlight touch. His heart twinged at the memory of the night’s earlier disquiet—Andy’s whimpers and groans of terror still echoing in his ears.
It wasn’t the first time Matt had witnessed these nocturnal demons. The ghosts of Andy’s past were persistent visitors. Then there were the living specters—Herbert and Miley—whose cruelty had carved deep scars in both Andy and Mia’s psyches. And now Carlos’ shadow had joined this macabre dance of memories, though at least that particular demon would torment no more.
But Herbert and Miley still walked free, and Matt wasn’t sure how long these nightmares would continue to plague Andy. One thing was crystal clear, though: he’d move heaven and earth to erase the terror that lurked behind Andy’s bright smiles, to create a sanctuary so complete that not even the darkest memories could breach it. Andy might face each day with infectious laughter and unwavering spirit, but Matt knew the cost of maintaining that brave facade—and he’d do anything to ensure those radiant smiles never had to mask pain again.
In the walk-in closet, Matt dressed himself with meticulous care. The tailored navy suit clung to him like a second skin, outlining every sculpted muscle in his broad frame. The crisp white shirt provided the perfect canvas for his carefully chosen tie, while his hair was styled to casual perfection. His reflection showed a man who could command any room—the sleek lines of his suit enhancing his powerful build, those stormy steel-gray eyes hinting at both danger and desire. The whole effect was devastating, a perfect blend of power and polish that would make even Greek gods question their workout routines.
With one last look at Andy’s peaceful face, Matt pressed another soft kiss against his temple. He paused for a heartbeat more—this beautiful, fierce, wounded young man was his most precious treasure—and then quietly left the penthouse.
The elevator descended like a steel cocoon through the heart of the hotel, morning light casting a golden hue over Matt’s impeccable attire. His office, a sanctuary of power, welcomed him with its familiar blend of glass and polished mahogany.
A knock at the door pulled him from his initial review of the day’s reports. “Enter,” he called, his voice resonating with the easy authority of a man accustomed to command.
The butler glided in, pushing a cart that held a feast fit for royalty. Eggs Benedict perched atop golden brioche like edible jewels, their hollandaise sauce gleaming in the morning light. Crisp bacon strips whispered secrets of smoky perfection, while a fruit platter arranged with Renaissance precision added splashes of vibrant color. Fresh croissants promised buttery bliss, and an artisanal cheese selection completed the spread. At the center of this culinary masterpiece stood a carafe of coffee—dark and rich as sin itself.
“Your coffee, sir,” the butler said, offering up a cup with the reverence usually reserved for holy relics. Matt accepted it with a grateful nod, savoring the first sip as warmth bloomed across his tongue. The butler retreated like a ghost at dawn, leaving Matt to balance his breakfast with the morning’s tasks.
He’d barely started on the eggs when another knock heralded Eddie’s arrival. The man filled the doorway like a walking fortress, loyalty personified in flesh and bone.
