Page 35 of Deadly Little Sparrow

“Be a good boy and get me ready to take that monster cock of yours,” I command, my voice dipping deeper with the lust that’s weaving its way through my body.

He parts his lips on a soft moan, his pupils expanding to obscure the chocolate-brown of his irises, a flush rising on his olive skin.

“Yes, Sir,” he murmurs, slipping one soapy hand around to find my hole.

He circles two fingers along my rim, petting and teasing my entrance until I’m panting, the deep, empty ache pulsing heavily until it’s the only thing I can feel.

“Two fingers. Inside me now,” I demand, tipping my head back against the wall and letting my eyelids slip halfway closed again.

Xaviaro does as he’s told, easing two fingers into my hole up to the second knuckle. I moan and buck my hips, my eyes clenching and my cock jerking to spill a dribble of precum.

“Deeper,” I moan, and my perfect, submissive savior gives me that too, filling me as deep as his fingers can go with a restrained grunt. His cock brushes against the back of my thigh, slippery and wet, and just as desperately hard as mine is.

He fucks his fingers in and out of my hole, crooking them to find my prostate and growling when I let out a breathless gasp as he hits his target. It’s been so fucking long since I’ve given myself over to the heady stretch and the deeply satisfying fullness of anyone’s fingers, let alone anything else. If I wasn’t afraid of the water running cold, I’d make him hold me here all night, fucking me slow and deep with his fingers, edging me for hours until I give in to the body quaking orgasm that he’d tease from my prostate.

Xaviaro sways forward, pressing his face into my throat again, his back rising and falling with barely controlled breaths as he laps at the water running over my skin. I drag my fingers through his wet hair, giving voice to every gasp and moan that rises in my chest, stroked to life by his fingers expertly taking me apart one thrust at a time.

“Xaviaro,” I grit out his name, tightening my grip on his hair like I can rein myself in by taking control of him.

He shudders and stills, leaving his fingers buried halfway inside of me.

“Yes, Little Sparrow?” I don’t correct the slip of the honorific this time, maybe because I’m too fucking charmed by the way his lips wrap around the name he gave me when I was nothing but a nameless ghost.

“Take me to your bed.”

Chapter 13

XAVIARO

I’m not sure how my legs are holding me up at this point, except that Sparrow needs them to and that seems to be enough. Water pools under my feet, leaving a trail of puddled footprints between the shower and the bedroom. I shiver from the temperature change, goose bumps rising all along my skin as the steam of the bathroom gives way to the cool air in my bedroom.

Sparrow’s legs are tight around my waist as he strokes his slender fingers through my hair, alternating between gentle touches and sharp tugs that light up my nerve endings and make my cock throb. I drag my tongue along the bruised skin of his throat again, desperate to erase the memory of Riff Raff’s hands from my mind as much as his. A tremor runs through me, an echo of the rage that exploded in my veins when I kicked in that door tonight and saw my little Sparrow struggling for his life.

I clench my jaw, my heart thundering and my breath speeding up as the images fill my mind again. I’ve lost count of how many lives I’ve taken, but I’ve never taken any pleasure in it until tonight. I wanted to unload my entire chamber into that fucker, bring him back to life, and do it all over again.

The sting of Sparrow’s teeth against my bottom lip jars me out of my violent fantasy and back into the present.

“I’m fine, he’s where he belongs, and we’re not giving him one more second of our energy.” The firm authority in his tone soothes me like a gentle stroke down my spine, even though it’s accompanied by another sharp bite. Or maybe it’s because he punctuates it with that fleeting moment of pain that his words take hold and I let every memory of Riff Raff scatter into the wind.

I turn around when I reach my bed, lowering myself onto it with my little Sparrow still wrapped around me, straddling me now, looking down at me with a wicked glint in his eyes that pins me more effectively than his weight ever could. He swivels his hips, bringing the curve of his ass into contact with my aching cock. A feral grin teases his lips as he braces his hands on my chest and circles his hips again, grinding his erection against my abs and teasing the tip of my cock.

He leans in close, bringing his lips close to mine again so I can feel his hot breath tickling them with every exhale. I part my lips, but instead of a kiss, Sparrow drags the tip of his tongue along the seam, teasing without dipping inside my mouth.

“You’re all mine, aren’t you, Killer?” he murmurs, then sinks his tongue just a fraction of an inch deeper until it meets the tip of mine before he pulls it back again. I nod, already finding myself at a loss for words with Sparrow’s bare skin sparking against mine like flint on stone, his words heavy enough to bind me without the need for any physical restraints. “You belonged to me before I even looked in your direction, didn’t you?”

His question sends me right back to the night that feels like a lifetime ago but was really only a handful of weeks. Excitement and electricity ricochet in my bones at the memory of tracking the mysterious little stranger with my eyes, feeling the energy in the room shift and shape itself around him like he owned it, just like he owns me now.

“Yes, Sir,” I rasp, and his cock jerks against my belly, a hungry moan vibrating from his lips.

Sparrow slides a hand up from my chest, wrapping his fingers gently around my throat without any pressure. He trails scorching hot kisses along my jaw, grinding himself against me again until I can feel my skin getting slick and sticky with his precum. My balls tighten and my cock throbs impatiently, but the rest of my body sinks into the bed, heavy and pliant.

“Such a good boy,” he whispers before climbing off of me. The bed jostles and my body cools instantly at the loss of his weight and the warmth of his bare skin against mine. “Tell me where you keep all your goodies hidden and scoot up the bed.”

“Bottom dresser drawer,” I answer, then position myself with my head on a pillow and my hands over my head to wait for him.

I let my gaze roam over his lithe frame, snagging on the pert shape of his ass, jiggling with each step. It’s mesmerizing, but after a moment, there’s something else that catches my attention more intensely. His confident, fluid movements were the first thing I noticed about him, like a panther on the prowl, and they’re even more enthralling now than they were when he was a perfect stranger.

He bends to tug the drawer open, exposing a lifetime of fantasies all stuffed inside, untouched by anyone but me until tonight. My heart thumps out an even rhythm, the temptation to wonder what Sparrow thinks of my toys and restraints, or which he’ll pick for tonight, is a fleeting one. I’ve spent every last brain cell I have today on life or death shit, and I don’t want to worry about anything else before sunrise.

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