His palate and tongue work me down slowly, sucking me deep into his silken throat with a desperate edge. It’s a thirst I thought he’d forgotten, but the sweet yearning resurfaces to my immense satisfaction. I let him lead for a few moments—I’m still a little stunned this ploy has worked—but soon enough the desire to take control comes rushing back to me. Like a tree tapping water from its roots, power flows through me, flooding my limbs until I am recharged. I grab hold of his head with both hands.
“Guardami,” I command.Look at me.Green eyes blink up at me, but his mind is already gone. “I’m going to use you until it hurts, then use you some more.”
He nods, as much as he can with his mouth full.
“Tap my leg if you feel faint.” He nods again, and with his soft hair threaded through my fingers, I punch my hips forward. He gags and I pull back, then thrust a little deeper, reminding him to whom he belongs—this mouth, these lips, this supple throat, and wicked tongue. No longer his Master’s spoiled rotten boy, he belongs to me now.
“You are mine, Giovanni,” I say, and I hope Valentin is listening. “You may miss him, you may mourn him, but you will not join him in death.”
He weeps a little while he sucks me, but he doesn’t tap my leg or pull away. I don’t like seeing him in pain, but I need him to accept this truth. He cannot have us both. He must choose to live with me or die with his Master, and I will not let him go without a fight.
He sucks me with vigor, the column of his throat shifting under my hand where I hold him, his hair like cornsilk threaded through my fingers. My arousal gathers like a summer storm, building toward something violent and alarming. Giovanni’s teeth graze my shaft, and I thrust my hips forward, ass clenching, and shoot down his throat with a thunderous roar.
“Ingoia tutto,” I command.Swallow it all.“Every last drop.” He chokes a little in his haste, and this is something I learned from Valentin too, to hold him there. I collect his tears with my thumbs and cradle his face tenderly in my hands. Even as my cock softens and the sensation of his soft suckling is almost too much, I remain.
“Bravo,” I soothe as I pet him. “Thank you for that pleasure. You are still very good at this, princess. Your Master taught you well.” I give credit to Valentin for training him so thoroughly. Giovanni is the best I’ve ever had, and I’ve had a lot.
I pull him off me and he smiles, a little bashfully, and says, “That was pretty explosive, Sir.”
“I had a lot to give.” I draw my thumb along his swollen lower lip, and he opens his mouth wider, allowing the tip of his tongue to graze my skin, an invitation for more. “You are still hungry?”
“Famished,” he says, voice hoarse.
“Later, pretty baby. For now,mettilo via.”Put it away.He tucks my dick back into my pants, then lays his cheek against my softened groin like it’s a pillow.
“Thank you, Sir, for making use of your boy.”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart. From now on, we’ll do this every morning. You eat your breakfast and then for dessert, you suck my cock. And when I saymangia, youmangia.Accordo?”
“Deal,” he says.
“And when I’m not here, you take a photograph of your meal before and after you’ve eaten. No cheating. If you need to meet with a nutritionist, I’ll find you one who’s Italian.” No more Americans. Outside of his therapist, the people who serve him will know my language, and they will answer to me.
“I have my meal plan from before, but I would like to meet with someone who knows the local cuisine.”
“I’ll make some calls.”
“They’ll need to create one for you too,” he says, eying me intently. He must want to put me on some bland, old man diet like he did my brother.
“But I am a young man, Giovanni.”
“And an exercise regimen,” he says and pokes my stomach.
“Are you calling me fat?” I drag him onto my lap and tickle him while he squirms and protests, until I’ve wrestled my arms around him and caught his slender fingers in my hands.
“I’m not calling you fat, Sir, but you do like to indulge.”
“Yes, and?” I lick his fingers one at a time, as if they were my mother’s delicious biscotti dipped in Nutella.
“I’m going to take care of you,” he says ardently and lays his hand flat against my chest. “Not only your sexual cravings but your heart too. I want it beating strong for me. I’m not going to lose you like I did my Master.”
My eyes sting and my heart aches for him. “Povero piccolo,”I say.My poor little one.How can I argue with that?
3
We compromise. Giovanni eats according to his new meal plan, and I try my best to follow mine as well. Luckily, grilled chicken and fish is still on the menu. Nutella is not, but the nutritionist makes an exception for me. I’m allowed a spoonful each evening after dinner as a treat. And I insist that we both have a cheat day to allow for a little more flexibility. Giovanni’s rigidity can sometimes send him spiraling.
Giovanni supplies my mother and Anthony with meal plans as well, since they are also part of the family. My mother thanks him while giving me the eye. Anthony doesn’t know what half the foods are, so Giovanni patiently explains it to him and offers to help with food preparation for our Sunday dinners to ensure everyone is meeting their nutritional goals.
