Instead, it turned freely beneath my fingers.
Really? Jesus. That wasn’t safe.
I stepped inside.
A short hallway unfurled ahead, walls narrow and plain, leading to a compact kitchen with a small table by the wall.
Beyond that was another door—also unlocked.
I pushed it open and slipped into the darkness.
Elior’s bedroom was simpler than I’d imagined. It looked like a slightly upgraded version of my room in the dorm. With how Malachi’s house was, it surprised me to see him keeping his precious son in a place like this.
It wasn’t terrible, just… plain.
But on the bed, turned slightly toward the wall, his blonde hair messy against a cotton pillowcase, was my Elior. Fast asleep.
His breathing was deep and even. Loose, pale sleep clothes had replaced his robe, half slipped off one shoulder. His face was relaxed in a way I’d never seen while he was awake.
He was just a boy, curled in the sheets, too tired to keep the world held up on his shoulders.
I stepped closer, silently studying the small, unconscious shifts of his expression. The way his fingers twitched like he was dreaming, the faint crease between his brows, and the tiny drop of spit at the corner of his mouth.
He looked so breakable like this.
Beautiful like this.
Unprotected like this.
I let the door click softly shut behind me, sealing us both inside the dim, private quiet.
Carefully, I lowered myself onto his bed, wincing at the creak of the mattress under my weight. I waited for any sign that he was waking up, but after a few more minutes of silence, I was satisfied that he was in a deep slumber, oblivious to my presence.
My hand trembled as I lifted the sheets off his sleeping form and pushed them to the side. There was no coming back once I did this. If I was wrong about how he’d react—if he were to scream and run to his father—I was fucked. Malachi would make me disappear. I’d heard the threat in his words loud and clear earlier.
There was also the chance that Elior would keep it from his father but rat me out to my fellow agents after the raid. If that happened, there was a one hundred percent chance of a prison uniform in my future.
Even with those possibilities in my mind, I wanted to take the risk.
Would it end up being the stupidest decision of my life? Maybe. But I wasn’t going to let this boy go without a fight.
I got on my knees and looked down at Elior from the end of the bed. He was on his side, his shirt rumpled and loose. It rode up at his waist, exposing a hint of the sweetest fucking belly I’d ever seen. His shorts were soft and reached about mid-thigh. From there, his legs were bare, including his feet. My cock twitched in my pants, but I ignored it.
Instead, while holding my breath, I gently rolled him onto his stomach and pushed his legs apart. He snuffled into his pillow, but didn’t wake.
As quietly as possible, I lowered myself onto the mattress and lay between his spread legs. I skimmed my hands over the creamy, bare skin of his thighs, enjoying the smooth curves, continuing my venture north to his hips.
My fingers slipped under his waistband and gingerly slid his shorts over his plump ass, exposing his white briefs and the two little dimples on his low back. I groaned and leaned forward, eager to taste the cute divots. I held his generous hips as I licked and pressed open-mouth kisses into his skin.
I subsequently pulled his underwear down, my cock hardening enough to hurt at the sight of his bare butt.
“Fuck, baby boy,” I whispered, rubbing and squeezing his full cheeks. Elior made a quiet noise in his sleep as I groped him.
With a hand on each cheek, I spread him open to be awarded with his tiny, untouched pink pucker. I lightly ran my thumb over my tightly furled prize.
Elior’s breath hitched, and he pressed back against me, his unconscious state seemingly seeking the pleasure he’d never afford himself while awake.
I lowered my head, inhaling his musky scent, then pressed a butterfly-soft kiss to his rim. As I began to lick him open, I reached around and cupped his hot and dripping cock in my hand.
