GEORGE
Basil accepted my terms,and I was thankful when he didn’t flee down the stairs. It would be mortifying, and I wasn’t sure how long I’d need to recover and try again. I held out my hand and pulled the boy to me when he accepted, nuzzling his throat where there was no stubble, only smooth skin.
“How old are you?” I couldn’t help asking after licking a stripe over his Adam’s apple.
“Twenty-three,” Basil answered, letting me walk him backwards until we reached my bedroom door. He leaned his head back to give me better access, panting, “Why? Are you going to say I’m too young?”
He might have been lying about his age, but I didn’t sense it, and it was a relief to know I wasn’t about to fuck a teenager. Basil pressed himself against my body, and I loathed the layers of clothes between us. I wrapped an arm under his ass and pulled Basil’s thigh up so I could grind into him.
“If I say fifty, will you think that’s hot, or leave?”
Basil grabbed my right hand from where I’d been pulling on his thin tie, moving it down to grab his other ass cheek. He was not turned off at all. Without thinking, I hoisted him up and spun us so his back was to the door. I needed him pinned sooner than it would take to undress and get to my bed, and this lined our cocks up perfectly. Basil followed my lead and wrapped his arms around my neck.
“Can I take your dick out, Basil?” I kissed the column of his neck up to his jaw, nipping at his pale earlobe. I wanted to try something I saw online, “And rub it with mine?”
“Stop asking permission and use me, already,” Basil grunted in frustration and cursed in Russian before reaching to undo my fly. “Too many questions.”
Without another word, I used the door for leverage and let him go. Basil's legs tightened around me as I grasped both of his wrists to hold them beside his head. With a stern look, I put his hands behind his neck. Basil understood and kept them there, clasping his fingers together and humping up into me.
Making quick work of my belt and zipper before moving to the clasps on hisTom Fordpants, I decided those were the only important things to remove. The suit fit him like a glove, and it was all I could do to get his dick out. I didn’t touch Basil’s dick, only admired its long, veiny length against the white of his dress shirt. Uncut like mine, the head was pinker than the rest, and peeking out in its hardness. I wanted to worship it and torture it in equal measure.
While he had gone commando—maybe wanting to avoid lines? —I had to tug my pants and briefs down to get my cock out. The heavy weight of it bobbed and touched Basil’s. We both gasped at the touch. Silky smooth and hot, I needed to feel the sensation again.
Taking us both in hand, I reveled in the feeling of our most sensitive skin against each other. The taboo of it wasn’t lost on me, after years of repression. My darker skin made a pretty contrast, and I couldn’t take my eyes off the view. Pre-cum leaked out of his foreskin when I glided up and down, joining mine and lubricating the way.
“Yes,” Basil moaned, moving against me but never dropping his hands. “More?”
“Say please,” I commanded on instinct, squeezing his dick and ass at once.
“Please, George? It feels so good.”
“Good boy,” I gripped tighter, not sure if it was the pressure or my words making Basil cry out. My cock thickened and made it impossible to get all the way around us both. Picking up the pace, I twisted my hand to get more precum and stopped teasing us both. Basil moaned wantonly, panting and cussing in English and Russian, eyes closed tight as I brought myself to the edge. I wanted to feel him fly first, “Come for me, boy.”
As if my words were all he needed, Basil bowed forward and held my shoulders tight. His orgasm overtook all other thoughts, and his body jerked in my arms as his hot cum squirted out, coating my dick and hand in just the right combination to push me over the edge with him. I thrust my hips one last time, causing Basil to whimper at the overstimulation.
The aftershocks rolled through me like heated waves. We stayed there, holding each other and breathing hard for a minute, until my knees protested the weight.
With my clean hand still on his ass, I opened the door to my room. I’d clean the doorknob later so Josefina didn’t have to. Walking the boy who was wrapped around me like an octopus to my bed, I was able to get his suit jacket and my shoes off on the way. I set him down on the edge before turning on the lamp and getting wipes out of my nightstand. I’d been chronically single, but my libido never died.
Cleaning up our mess, I watched Basil’s face. He was smiling, eyes closed and arms slack, in a blissful state where he barely noticed my touch. I wasn’t sure if this was the subspace thing I’d heard of, but he was certainly cum-drunk. I removed his tie and unbuttoned his dress shirt, where a stylish leather harness went across his chest and over one shoulder. Moving to his shoes and socks, I saw he had small feet with blond hair on the big toes, and I found it oddly sexy to have him barefoot in my bedroom.
When I laid him back and pulled off his pants, athunkhit the floor that I assumed was his phone. My phone and gun were still on me, and it felt like too intimate of a moment for those items. My phone went in the still open drawer on a wireless charger Angie got for me, and I saw a picture of my children on the nightstand. I didn’t need to see their faces with my dick out and faced the frame down and set my gun beside it.
Turning back to my bedmate, I found him sitting up with a knife to my neck.
“You have me at a disadvantage, Basil,” my eyes flicked from his face to our exposed genitals. “I thought you wanted me to fuck you?”
“No.” Basil spat out his next words with venom, “We’re enemies.”
“Have we met before tonight?” I asked with a bored nonchalance, raising my hands as if in surrender. I could disarm him before he hurt me. Unless he was a trained assassin. The leather harness he had on over the undershirt must have held the knife. Thatthunkon the floor had been his gun. I was stupid not to check him for weapons. “Though, I bet Basil isn’t your real name.”
“We haven’t met, but it doesn’t matter,” Basil pushed the knife into the side of my neck, right over an artery. “You are the Italian Don, I am Russian Bratva.”
“Iwasthe Don, but I’m out of that life,” I told him, raising an eyebrow and laying it out there. He wasn’t law enforcement, and a trained killer would have finished me off by now. Maybe he could be reasoned with, “I am friendly with the Kiselovs now. Do you report to Felix?”
Basil’s blue eyes widened. He had to be new if he didn’t know not to attack Italians as Felix had ordered. “I will kill you and avenge my family.”
Both of my eyebrows went up then, “If you mean Ivanna Kiselov, she deserved worse.”
