Page 49

“Off. On your knees. Lick the seat clean.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Elias says without hesitation.

He slides down like his bones have loosened. The boy kneels, then puts his mouth to the leather where he let himself go.

I watch his tongue work.

Obedient. Flushed. Mine in a way a job at a hotel cannot touch.

“Stay there,” I say as I open my trousers.

My cock is already hard from the ride, from the hour of worry, from the sight of him orgasming on a machine I own.

“Pleasure your Daddy.”

Elias leans in and I take his hair.

I do not let Elias make it pretty. I pump into his mouth, rough, deep enough that his eyes water, holding him there when I want him there, using the wet heat of the boy until the lot narrows to his throat and the wet sounds and the smeared shine on his lips.

I shoot my seed hard. In his mouth first. Then I pull back and stripe his face.

Elias stays on his knees and takes it because I have not told him to move and because his only desire is to submit to me and serve me.

“Good,” I say, my voice low and my eyelids momentarily heavy in post-orgasmic bliss.

I put myself away.

Zip up .

The picture is filthy and exact…

Naked boy. Seed on his cheeks and mouth. Bike still ticking behind him.

“Walk with me,” I say.

We cross the concrete toward the elevator. Elias is barefoot. Bare. My thick, salty seed cooling on his skin under lights that do not care.

I glance at Elias once. The boy who planted a device in Lucci stone and walked out smiling. The boy who climaxed on my bike because I told him to.

“Daddy, that was…”

“The fun is not over yet,” I say.

The elevator doors open. Elias steps in beside me, dripping and silent and still trying to remember how to breathe like a person who has not just been used in a parking lot.

I hit the penthouse button and place my hand around the back of Elias’s neck.

Not only is Elias an asset, but he might just be the boy who could fill a whole in my life that I never truly knew existed.

But to truly do that, he must risk it all and help me take down Tito Lucci. Only then can I even begin to contemplate a real future.

11

ELIAS

Evening comes in like a velvet curtain.

Dmitri’s office does not feel like an office. It feels like a stage someone built for decisions. Real decisions. The kind of decisions that shape lives… and often end them too.