Page 3 of His Incubus Husband

He smirked knowingly. “I knew you looked familiar. You’re Sir Oswald Sandoval himself.”

Oswald gave a brief bow. “The one and only. I’m flattered you know me.”

“Your reputation precedes you. I should have recognized you.”

“Does knowing who I am make you more or less inclined to accept my offer?”

“It doesn’t factor into my decision at all.”

“How will you decide, then?”

Valentino leaned in and sniffed at Oswald’s shirt. “You smell nice. You have decent conversational skills.” He glanced up. “Handsome. Arrogant. Sexy.”

“I sense there’s a but.”

“I haven’t seen your dick yet.”

Now it was Oswald’s turn to laugh. He glanced around and pushed Valentino deeper into the dark corner. Staring at the omega’s full lips and gulping his scent, it wasn’t difficult for him to grow half hard. He caught Valentino’s wrist and brought the boy’s petite hand to his groin. At the exploratory touch through his pants, he hardened even more.

Valentino felt around Oswald’s trapped erection and licked his lips. His expression morphed from speculative to shocked as he tore his hand away.

“But I’ve…never… I can’t, sir.”

He clutched his hand to his chest, pinning his suddenly fearful eyes on Oswald. He had already slipped into his role.

“It’s…my birthday tonight,” he whispered haltingly.

Oswald smiled.

“Is it, angel? How old are you?”

“I’m eighteen,” Valentino lied smoothly, pitching his voice higher. His act was eerily genuine, making Oswald wonder if everything had been an act. Maybe the boy was just a figment of his fantasy. Maybe he was an assassin hired to kill him.

What a way to go.

“Let me give you a gift. Whatever you wish.”

Valentino looked down, blushing, and sucked his drink through his straw. “Whatever?”

“Yes. A beautiful, nice boy like you deserves the world.”

He blinked up, cheeks dark pink. “My father never lets me go out. I escaped tonight so I could celebrate the way I wanted. He wants to marry me off to a stranger, but I’ve…never even had a kiss.”

Oswald leaned forward and brushed his lips over Valentino’s forehead.

The boy gasped, gazing up at him dolefully. His eyes seemed to brim with tears.

“Will you kiss me? For real?”

“Is that your birthday wish?”

A jerky nod.

Oswald cupped Valentino’s cheek and slowly, carefully bent his head. Inch by inch, he brought their lips closer. Then he softly nipped, once, twice. Valentino gave out a broken moan.

Their tongues touched, and Oswald could have burst into flames from that first taste alone. He let himself be lulled by the perfect fantasy of the innocent eighteen-year-old omega who wanted to give himself to him. He guided the clumsy virgin until the kiss deepened and turned dirty.

He broke off a minute later, and Valentino panted against his lips.