I glance over at my brother, and for the first time since before his passing, I am at peace. I can accept that there are places within Giovanni that I may never reach, that the bond between him and Valentin will endure, just as the bond between my brother and I will persevere. Their attachment doesn’t diminish the love Giovanni and I have for each other. If anything, it encourages us both to be better.
And I resolve to no longer run from my grief but to embrace it. To not compete with Valentin’s ghost but welcome his guidance. My feelings, even those I’m not proud of, will be felt to their fullest, and I will be a better man for it.
“I understand why you wanted him here,” I say to Giovanni. “This was something special the two of you shared. He is part of you, as I am part of you, and I will not make you choose, except…” Giovanni peers up at me, waiting for me to continue, and I muster up the courage to ask, “Do you still wish to join him?”
His brow furrows and I brace myself for his answer. “No, Sir. I want to stay here with you for as long as we’re both able. Master can wait. Patience is the virtue of both the submissive and the Dominant.”
My joy threatens to overflow in the form of big, fat tears. I grip the back of his head and with a fierce sense of pride and ownership, I say, “You belong to me now, Giovanni, to love and to cherish. You are my submissive, my lover, and my lifelong companion. You follow my rules, you honor my virtues, and when you need something, you must ask me for it because I am the one who provides for you. That includes both your pleasure and your pain.”
“Yes, Sir, I will. I promise.”
Emboldened, I continue, “You may save your soul for Master, but your heart belongs to me.”
He smiles shyly and kisses my stubbled cheek. “My heart is yours, Silvio, always and forever.”
There is no greater gift.
19
It is a few weeks later, once Giovanni has healed from our scene with Leandro, that I ask myself where I feel most powerful, where I have the most command. It is not in the dungeon, nor is it in the bedroom, it is on my boat.
In the pre-dawn hours while Giovanni rests, I make my preparations. I have planned out this excursion with meticulous care. I want him to be overwhelmed in all ways, to bow before me as his god and savior, to exhaust him and excite him. To reward him for his devotion and express my own in return.
“We’re going on trip,” I tell him the morning our adventure is about to begin. “I’m taking you to a secluded island that very few people know about. Once there, I’m going to tie you to my mast and fuck you. I’m going to put you on your hands and knees on my deck and fuck you. I’m going to bend you over the bow of the boat and… can you guess what, princess?”
“Fuck me?” he asks with parted lips and bated breath.
“That’s right. I’m going to fuck you until you’ve forgotten your name. Together we’re going to explore our hedonistic sides as we never have before. We will give into every sinful temptation and indulge our carnal natures. The food will be rich and fattening, and no craving will be denied. How does that sound to you?”
“Green, Sir.” He nods eagerly, then glances around our bedroom, befuddled and bewildered. “What should I pack?”
“Absolutely nothing. I want you only in your skin.”
Giovanni’s arms are raised,hands gripping the cleats that are anchored to my mast. His legs are bound, my rope snaking under his knees to spread him for my pleasure with his ankles flush against his upper thighs. His genitals are on display and his hole is exposed. His chest is a harness of rope that work in concert with the others to lift and support him. Naked and blindfolded, he is strung up in my rigging like a prisoner waiting to be plundered. His nipples are clamped too, and I tug lightly on their chain, eliciting a kittenish growl from my beautifully bound lover.
“Are you still with me, gorgeous?” I ask, as my oiled fingers circle the rim of his hole. My other hand drags leisurely along his cock and balls, lubricating his freshly waxed skin so that it glistens.
“I am with you, Sir.”
“Do you know how helpless you look right now?” I ask as I sink one thick finger inside him.
Gasping, he responds, “Tell me, Sir.”
“You look like you’ve been captured, princess, and dressed in the conqueror’s finest jewels in preparation for a public claiming.” I coax his mouth open with my own, dipping my tongue into the well of wet heat. Giovanni sucks it lewdly. I add another finger to my invasion of his lower half, twisting and forking my digits to stretch his tight channel. He whines and moans at the aching penetration, trying to work me in deeper by squeezing his muscles. I thrust in time with the gentle rocking of my boat, slowly driving him mad.
“Sir,” he begs.
“Steady now,” I say with one hand splayed against his chest. I pluck at his jewelry and tug on the clamps to torment his sweet nipples.
“Per favore,” he moans. “Per favore, Signore.”
I press my body flat against his and wrap one arm around the fiberglass pillar that supports him. I’ve affixed a mat around the mast to cushion his back as I brush my hard, naked shaft along his well-oiled cleft. My fingers have not relented in tormenting his prostate, priming him for my cock.
“Dimmi cosa vuoi.” I whisper in his ear.Tell me what you want.
“I want you, Sir,” he says, breathless, tossing his head like a spirited horse. “I want your cock inside me. Relieve me of this torture. Fuck me like I’m yours.”
I take hold of his body and raise him slightly, then let gravity guide him onto my turgid cock. The descent is achingly sweet as I allow his body ample time to accommodate me. He twists in his jute bindings, rubbing his skin raw, but there is very little give and no escape.
