I thrust my dick inside and start a merciless rhythm that makes me grunt with every pump. He’s built my pleasure slowly, and now it’s a searing bonfire. This overwhelming craving I can’t stop it—it’s burning me alive.
“You came to the door wearing only a t-shirt. You are my worthless whore. Mine. Nobody sees you like this.”
Tears are streaming down his face, his throat is making gurgling sounds while I keep pounding it, and I can feel his little nailssinking into my ass as he pushes me toward him, not away. Damn, he is a horny little demon.
I slide my hand and grip the scruff of his neck in a tight, controlling grasp, moving his mouth where I want as I keep giving it to him. He grunts in appreciation at the possessive move. I want to give him a mouthful of juice, but filling his asshole is my priority right now. So I let his head go and take a step back, leaving his tight mouth. He frowns but doesn’t complain as I pull him up and remove his t-shirt, leaving him only in silk panties, the sexiest body chain he’s ever worn, torn thigh-highs, and nail-me high heels.
I give my hard dick a couple of slow, hard pumps when he makes a pin-up, sexy-as-fuck pose. But then he turns his back to me, and the scars there make me pause. The newest ones are on me—my fault. On my preconceptions. On my stubbornness.
“What is…?” He doesn’t finish his question as he realizes what I’m looking at. He turns around, scratching his neck nervously, and with a sad look in his eyes, he says, “I can cove?—”
This time I don’t let him finish. I slide my palms over his spine, feeling the familiar unevenness of his skin under my spread fingers. I look him straight in those open light blue eyes.
“We’ll fucking build our life on each scar,sole mio. Every memory we make will push the bad ones into a mental corner until there won’t be space for them anymore. I promise you that.”
His watery laugh is the best sound I’ve ever heard in my life. And when his fingertips brush the marks on my face, I close my eyes, trembling, letting everything that Art is seep into me. His wet lips brush over them next, lingering, leaving sweet, soft kissesthat lighten my soul. A single tear falls down my cheek. It’s an unfamiliar feeling. I haven’t cried since my mother’s death, but it makes sense that he is the one awakening such a powerful emotion inside me. His tongue wipes the tear away as it scoops it with the wet tip.
“I missed you so much.” He breathes out, letting his mouth touch mine. The kiss starts sweet and lovely, but soon lust prevails. “Please, I’m aching, fuck me, baby.”
Everything for my sun.
“On the ottoman, doggy style,” I order him as I take off my necktie.
“Woof!” His playful bark makes me pull harder than necessary on the fabric.
I begin undressing as he climbs on top of the ottoman, which is the perfect height for a hard pounding. The pink stones trail down from his neck to his stomach, separating there to display his flat belly and frame his hips beautifully. The ruined thigh-highs and red heels give him a debauched look. He is pure sex. But it’s my necklace on his pale skin that makes my dick twitch, as I look at the symbol of my ownership and love.
I pull down my pants, and he suddenly springs up.
“What’re those?” He points at my lilac boxers with his name embroidered on them. An unreadable expression on his face.
“Fly made them for me.” I shrug. Marco handed them to me in Boston. It was a very belated birthday present.
Art still doesn’t say a word as I keep pulling off clothes.
“Do you hate it?” I thought he’d love seeing his name on my dick.
“No!” His voice breaks, his eyes look shiny. “This is amazing, and I’ve been miserable these days without you while you look fucking great, all smiling and cool, and your big dick is the best, and I hate you.” He continues blabbering while flailing his arms.
“It’s been fucking hard for me too, Art,” I declare, dropping the last garment on the floor, except for the necktie.
“It has?” His palms find my chest hair as soon as I get closer to him.
“Of fucking course.”
He smiles, seemingly happy about my past-few-days’ misery. “I hate-love you so fucking much.”
“Good.” I bite and suck his lower lip.
“This lube is making me all tingly and hot inside,” he whimpers.
Fuck yeah, need to buy a truckload of it. Love to see him squirming for me.
“Show me,” I whisper darkly.
His panting chest quickly spins around as he goes on all fours. That’s what I’m talking about. I think about peeling off his silky panties with my teeth, but fuck it. I use my hands and tear them just enough to get to his asshole.
He moans and trembles in front of me. Fucking perfect. I tell him to open up and dangle the necktie near his face before I use it to cover his mouth. But he pushes it down.
