Leo's hand began to move with more purpose, fingers trailing down his stomach toward his cock, which was already beginning to stir with interest. For a moment he hesitated, tension visible in every line of his body, as if fighting some internal battle between desire and restraint.
Stefano knew exactly what that hesitation meant—the last vestiges of Leo's pride fighting against the conditioning they'd instilled in him during their cottage visits. The daddy dynamic they'd established in the forest had burrowed deep into Leo's psyche during those carefully orchestrated encounters. To make him crave what he still tried to reject.
Desire won.
Leo's fingers wrapped around his length, stroking slowly as his head fell back in pleasure. The sight of him—naked, vulnerable, touching himself with unconscious sensuality—made Stefano's cock throb painfully as he watched Leo's hand move with increasing purpose, thumb occasionally swiping over the head to gather moisture that eased the glide of his palm.
"Christ," Marco hissed. "Look at him. Fucking perfect."
Leo's free hand moved to his mouth, two fingers pressing between his lips in a motion that made all three alphas growl in unison. The way his cheeks hollowed as he sucked those fingers, the way his throat worked around them, the slight flush spreading across his chest—it was a preview of how he'd look with their cocks stretching those perfect lips. How he'd looked when they'd taken turns using his mouth, teaching him to take them deeper, to swallow around their girth, to accept their dominance in the most primal way possible.
When those wet fingers trailed down his chest, circled a nipple, then moved lower still to disappear beneath his raised thighs, Stefano's control nearly snapped entirely. The camera angle captured everything—the way Leo's face contorted with pleasure as he breached himself, the slight resistance before his body yielded, the way his back arched as fingers found that spot inside that made his cock jerk against his stomach.
"Perfect," Marco breathed, eyes fixed on the way Leo's body opened for his own fingers, the way slick gathered as his arousal built. "Made to take cock. Made to be filled."
"Made for us," Stefano corrected, activating the directional microphone they'd installed in Leo's bedroom ceiling. The sound came through with crystal clarity, picking up every gasp, every wet sound as Leo's fingers worked his hole, and every whispered word that fell from those perfect lips.
"Stefano, you arrogant bastard," Leo breathed, the name torn from him like a reluctant confession as his back arched further. "Fuck… Stefano… why won't you get out of my head? God… please…"
The sound of his name on Leo's lips hit Stefano like a physical blow, his vision swimming crimson as primitive satisfaction roared through his system. The conditioning had worked exactly as planned—the night they'd made him beg for release while calling them "Daddy." All of it embedded inhis subconscious, all of it surfacing now in his most private moments.
"Mine," Stefano growled, the word torn from somewhere primal and possessive. "Fucking mine."
On screen, Leo's movements grew more frantic, the hand around his cock speeding up as pleasure built. But it was the words, the desperate pleas falling from his lips, that held all three alphas transfixed.
"Marco, you manipulative prick," Leo gasped next, free hand moving to deliver a stinging slap to his thigh. "Marco… tell me I'm a good boy… like you did when you watched me break…"
A savage grin split Marco's face, something dark and pleased in his expression as Leo continued to whisper his name between self-administered spanks. "That's it, baby," he murmured to the screen, as if Leo could somehow hear him across the distance. "Just like in the woods. Such a good boy for us."
The words 'good boy' sent another surge of heat through Stefano's blood, his cock throbbing as he remembered Marco sitting before Leo in the forest, praising him while Stefano delivered disciplinary smacks that had soon transformed into something else entirely. The way Leo had fought the pleasure at first, then surrendered to it with those broken little whimpers that still haunted Stefano's dreams.
"Good boy," Leo whispered to himself with bitter mockery, voice cracking as his hand delivered another stinging slap to his thigh. "Take your punishment like a good little omega… pathetic… wanting alphas who kidnapped you…"
The words were an exact echo of what Marco had said in the forest when Leo was spread across Stefano's knee, Marco sitting in front of him, watching every reaction with that predatory intensity while Matteo observed from a distance. The fact that Leo remembered, that he replicated those words during privateself-pleasure, sent another wave of possessive triumph through Stefano's bloodstream.
"He's recreating that night in the woods," Marco said, his control visibly fraying as Leo's self-punishment morphed into something more deliberate—each slap to his thigh growing more rhythmic, more purposeful, until he was essentially spanking himself while his other hand worked his cock with desperate intensity. "Craving what we gave him."
"What only we can give him," Stefano agreed, his own voice rough with the strain of maintaining control as Leo's body began to tense with approaching climax, his back arching further off the mattress as his hand moved faster on his cock.
But instead of the surrender to pleasure they expected, Leo's expression contorted with something like anguish. "No," he gasped, teeth sinking into his lower lip as his body trembled on the edge of release. "Don't want this… don't want to need them… stupid omega biology betraying me…"
The conflict in those broken words made Stefano's alpha nature howl with primitive satisfaction. When orgasm finally tore through him, Leo's body convulsed with its force, back bowing off the mattress as release painted his stomach in thick white streaks. But instead of the satisfaction they expected to witness, his face crumpled with unmistakable distress, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes as the pleasure receded.
"Never enough," Leo whispered, the words so soft they barely registered on the microphone as he curled onto his side, arms wrapped around himself like he could somehow hold the pieces together through sheer will. "Never right… never enough… why can't I just forget them? What's wrong with me?"
Stefano's savage satisfaction deepened at those broken whispers. Their forest incident had laid the groundwork, but it was during their cottage visits that they'd truly embedded themselves in Leo's psyche. Each carefully orchestratedencounter designed to leave him craving them more than the last.
"It will be," Stefano promised the screen, his voice dropping to that register that had made hardened criminals beg for mercy. "When we're the ones making you come again, little prince, it will be more than enough. It will be fucking perfect."
On screen, Leo's tears fell faster, his small frame shaking with silent sobs that seemed to tear something open in Stefano's chest—something protective and possessive that went beyond simple alpha instinct, beyond mere desire to claim.
"He needs us," Marco said, the usual playful edge gone from his voice, replaced by something surprisingly gentle. "Not just wants. Needs."
Stefano's hand moved to his desk drawer, pulling it open to reveal the diamond-encrusted cock ring nestled on black velvet—custom-made months ago in preparation for Leo's arrival. His thumb traced the cold stones, imagining how they would look against Leo's flushed skin, how Leo would writhe and beg when denied release.
"This is what he needs," Stefano said, lifting the ring from its velvet nest. "Control. Discipline. Structure." His fingers tightened around the diamond-studded device, imagining sliding it onto Leo's cock, watching his eyes widen with realization as they took away his ability to come without permission. "And we're going to give it to him."
"Along with the kind of pleasure that will make him forget his own name," Marco added, eyes still fixed on the tablet where Leo had begun to drift toward sleep, exhaustion claiming him after the emotional release of tears. His lashes fluttered against tear-stained cheeks, lips parting on a soft exhale that carried what sounded like Stefano's name.
