“I can see that you do,” I murmur, spreading his thighs even wider. “You’re about ready to burst.” I trace a knuckle over his tight little nuts, drawn high beneath his flushed, graceful cock. I want to keep him at this edge for as long as I can, make him beg and plead, call out my name until his throat is raw, then fuck that throat deep and slow.
On the other hand, that virgin ass of his…
I pull his legs up, holding onto his ankles and tugging him closer to me. “What if I wanted to fuck you like this? Push into you right here until you were so full of me you begged me to stop?”
“I would never want you to stop,” he pants out, reaching out for me. “Do it. Please, do it. Fuck me.” I want to, the invitation searing into my brain, running hot through my body and pooling in my gut, my cock throbbing.
For a wild moment, I decide I’ll do it: impale him here, make him scream my name as I push in with nothing but spit to smooth the way, make him cry with the mingled ecstasy and agony.
But I can’t do that. He is a precious thing to me—and breakable. He may claim to desire the pain, but I have a greater desire. I want his first cock—mycock—to make him feel so good that he’ll be chasing that high for the rest of his life.
Because I have to let him go.
He can’t stay here, even though I want to keep him. Keep him locked up in here with me, the one bright light in this hell of my life.
Ican’tkeep him. I have to let him go.
I know it, can even admit it to myself in this moment, when my head and my heart are drowned out by my dick.
But if I can’t keep him, I want him to remember,always, how my body made his body feel.
CHAPTER28
SANDRO
I lean over,grab Teddy’s wrists, and guide his hands to his thighs. “Hold your legs open for me. I want to see that pretty little hole.”
He pulls his thighs apart eagerly, tucking his hips up, and my suspicions are confirmed: Teddy MacCallum is a work of art from the tips of his golden hair to the balletic arch of his feet, from his plush, wet mouth to the delicate flush of his asshole.
“Please…” He bites his lip. “Alessandro, please. Make me—make me yours.”
It’s the cheesiest line I’ve ever heard, awkward even from those perfect lips, but his inexperience, his eagerness—they make me tender. I rub his nipples more gently now, watching his hole squeeze tight at the sensation, and then I can stand it no more.
“I want to taste you.” I pull my chair back in, and sit down, letting my eyes continue their feast. From this angle, his body has become hills and valleys, shadows and highlights under the dim light from the hallway. He’s silken floss where I am thick black curls, and his soft hairs catch the light, make him glow and glisten as though covered in gold dust.
His hands slip from his legs, but I put them back, firmly. “Keep yourself open for me. I want to see every part of your beauty.” I trail my tongue along his inner thigh, and the faint salt tang brings my tastebuds to life.
I’ll take my time and enjoy this banquet—since it is to be my last meal of him. He shivers under my kisses, as I press them along his tender skin of his inner thigh, making my way toward the centerpiece. But all I do is blow over his most secret place, a steady stream of air that draws a moan from deep in his chest. His gently curved cock trembles with need, makes my mouth water, but I’ve already decided to leave that for dessert.
I slide my hands under his ass, helping his hips rise even further, and then I kiss along his other thigh, biting softly into his flesh, sucking in mouthfuls, determined to leave him marked. The idea of him bearingmybruises sends a thrill down my spine. They’ll only add to his loveliness.
I let saliva drip down his thigh, showing my path, and then I follow it with my tongue until his warm, soft ballsack is pressed against my lips.
He’s already arching up to meet me, hips rocking as he tries to increase the sensation, and I reward him with a wide sweep of my tongue over his sack, then gather one of his tender little nuts into my mouth, sucking gently as I test his reaction to the sensation.
He likes it, judging by the groaning of my name. He’s tight enough that I can fit his whole sack into the cradle of my lips, and I see that he was not lying to me as I suck a little harder, and a little harder still: he likes his pleasure with afrissonof pain.
I rub my nose into the crease of his thigh, then down below his nuts, breathing him in. The men whose company I pay for always scent themselves here, but Teddy’s clean, natural aroma is more heady and more tempting than any perfume could ever hope to be.
I don’t want to wait any longer.
I lick a wide, slow path up the crease of his ass, pulling him close, letting my nose nestle into the soft comfort of his nuts when I reach the zenith. Teddy is gasping, littleOh, oh, ohs, popping from his lips like fragile bubbles, and his cock drools a gleaming spiderweb thread across his belly. I lick him again, slower, firmer, my hands closing firmly on his asscheeks as he begins to shake more violently. I savor every inch of him, the pulse of his asshole against my tongue, the underlying musk of his flavor, the smooth flesh against my face as his thighs squeeze at me, try to keep me close.
I pry them open andkeepthem open myself, since his hands have fallen away, clutching at the edge of the dining table.
“Oh, my God,” he moans. “Oh God, oh Alessandro, please—please—”
“Tell me what you want.” I want to hear him say it. Admit it. Reassure me, perhaps. “Tell me and I’ll give it to you.”
