“Show me how,” his voice whispers out, unsure and timid. Wavering slightly.
My hands gravitate to his ass as I grip my fingers against him. I grind him against me.
“What are you really asking, lil’ lamb?” He grinds against me, his eyes glaze over as his hips twitch against me. “Use your words.” He grinds again, and I grip tighter, stilling his movements as he glares to meet my gaze.
He stutters on a breath, and his eyes flutter as he blows out a shaky breath. “I want to be yours.”
His eyes remain closed, and his head tilts down. I stare at him. He looks terrified. It’s cute, really, and I smile, actually smile. I sit up, and his eyes fly to mine.
“Don’t try to run before you can walk, lil’ lamb. Once you give in, there’s no going back. There will be no stopping me from taking you when and wherever I want.”
He swallows hard as a flush rises up his cheeks. His breathing elevated, and his eyes scan over every inch of my face as I quirk a grin at him, and his eyes widen. I gently lay him onto his back, covering his body with mine. I grind into him. He pants, eyes wide. He gasps, and I push two fingers in his mouth, and he bucks up into me. He sucks my fingers like the good boy I know he’s gonna be, and I slide my hand down. Thrusting it between his cheeks.
He gasps as I force my way in up to the first knuckle. I pull out, and he relaxes as I push in further. He grunts and bucks up into me, wincing. I smirk at him, grinding against me, his eyes roll as I slide in another finger.
“Please?” he gasps.
“Please, what, lil lamb?”
“I… I want… you. I want… please, Bellino, please?” He grinds and thrusts, gritting his teeth in pain. His eyes closed as he rides my thick fingers like it’s his job. He may not be gay, as he protests, but for me? For me, he’s definitely gay.
I grind my dick into the bed as I finger fuck his ass, trying to hold myself back from taking him like I want to, but when he starts moaning, I can’t take it. I pull my fingers out and slip them between my lips, groaning as I taste him, fuck. I take my dick in my hand and squeeze it tightly, trying to refrain from coming over the back of my hand. I close my eyes and breathe as I slide down the bed. His eyes widen as I wrap my hand around his dick. Flicking out my tongue and sliding it around the tip.
“You’re hurt.” I lick up his shaft as he bucks and winces; I place my hand on his stomach and hold him down. He tries to move—his hand slides to my wrist, and I stare at him for a second before taking him into my mouth, his head drops back, and his dick hits the back of my throat. I smile as I feel his hand slide to the top of my head. I nip at him before sucking him into my mouth again. His grip tightens, and I chuckle. He gasps, and precum slides over my tongue.
“Fuck.” I mumble around a mouthful of dick, but he tastes exquisite. His breathing is laboured, his chest flushed, and I stare up his body. I slow my movements and then chuckle when his grip tightens in my hair. Pushing me deeper. I take him to the back of my throat, and when I gag, he groans. His hips move back and thrust up. He grits his teeth, but he thrusts again. His grip pushes me back down as he fucks into my throat, and I grind my hips against the bed.
Fuck, the look on his face—the determination as he tightens his grasp, the taste of him is gonna make me come into the covers, and I flick my hips. I slurp at his dick; he’sthick, so deliciously thick that I power down on him, my throat contracting as his tip crashes into it. He tenses as he screams out, as cum fires into the back of my throat. His hips thrust hard, and I cough out as his hold drops away and he stutters a sob. I stare up at him; the pain and confusion twisted across his face. I lean over him. I hold my body off his, but I stare into his eyes, tears well in them as he tries to look away from me. Confusion and embarrassment cross his features.
“Don’t.” I reach up and wipe a tear away, sucking it off my thumb. “Don’t hide from me.” I lean in and kiss him. He stiffens for a split second before his mouth opens and his tongue unsurely slides over mine. I groan into him as I grind against him.
He gasps into my mouth, and I pull back, huff out a breath, and roll off him. I flop onto my back and close my eyes, trying to regain my composure. Trying to be a better man for him. Trying to push the grin off my face.
“Bellino.” His voice shakes, and I roll over.
“Sleep, lil’ lamb, you need your rest.” I roll closer, pull the covers over us both, and wrap him up close to me. I kiss his shoulder, and he stutters another breath, but sighs, and I rest my head against his shoulder and just hold him.
Because we’ve turned a corner, and there’s no going back now. He’s mine.
Leonardo
Chapter Thirty-Two
It’s been a week. My ribs sting, my body aches, and I wake every morning wrapped in his arms, but he hasn’t touched me again, not like that. He kisses me but rolls away, groaning before it goes any further, and I’m left confused. I don’t know how to feel. I don’t know what he wants, and I’m starting to flail.
As we climb into bed, we’re both naked. I’ve not gone back to the pyjamas since I was taken. It just feels important to sleep next to him, to feel his skin against mine. He makes me feel grounded and safe and a part of something. I roll over to speak to him.
“Can I ask you something?”
He grunts, and I take that as a yes. We’ve been talking more, getting closer, and I feel like I’m falling. I move closer to him, and I rest my head on his arm, needing to feel grounded. “How do you feel?”
He huffs a laugh. “How do I feel? I don’t feel, lil’ lamb.”
“What do you mean you don’t feel?”
“I’m not a good man, Leonardo. I don’t feel.”
“You must feel something.”
