Page 52 of Deadly Little Sparrow

I slip my fingers out to scoop up the cum, still stroking myself even after my orgasm has faded without relief in sight, like my hunger for Xaviaro will never be sated. I think I can live with that. Something tells me he can too.

The slide of my cum-lubed fingers in and out of his hole sends fresh ripples over my skin. I need him. I need to be buried inside of him, and I need to feel the way his delayed orgasm rocks him straight to the core when I finally tell him to let go.

My erection hasn’t ebbed at all, more droplets of cum still clinging to the tip as I ease my fingers out and line myself up with his hole. Xaviaro lets out a breathless sound as I enter him, his inner muscles clenching around me.

“Sparrow,” he whimpers my name. I tangle my fingers gently in his hair, tugging slightly at his scalp.

“Yeah, baby, I’ve got you,” I whisper, filling him another couple of inches then stilling to let him adjust.

When his breathing evens out again, I give him the last few inches, my hips pressed up against his ass, my cock buried inside him to the hilt. Two orgasms might not have been enough to satisfy me just yet, but they were enough to take the edge off. They were enough that I can take my time with him. So I do just that.

My thrusts are hard and deep but lacking any urgency or rush. We crash together over and over, anchored by the sturdiness of Xaviaro’s body, his strong shoulders keeping him from toppling over. His toned, bronze muscles beg for my mouth, for my tongue, for my bruises, so I give him those too. I pepper his back and along his spine with licks and bites, leaving his skin glistening with saliva and red with marks that will bruise by morning.

I wrap my arms around him and worship his body with my hands, ghosting them over every muscle and scar, teasing his nipples between my thumbs and forefingers with pinches just hard enough to make him gasp and tremble, then making my way downward between his legs. His bound cock bounces with every one of my thrusts, thwacking heavily against his stomach. I drag my thumb over the head of his cock and his body tenses like a bomb about to go off. But even now, he doesn’t beg. He drags in a breath, holding it until I’m sure his lungs are about to burst before letting it out slowly in measured exhales.

The absolute perfection of his submission hits me like a tidal wave, knocking the air out of my lungs and momentarily stealing my control. It wrenches a sob from my throat and I press my face between his shoulder blades, snapping my hips faster now. I have no idea how long I’ve been fucking him, but the moan that rumbles from his throat is pure relief as I pick up my pace.

“Come, baby. I need it,” I pant, catching the swollen head of his cock between my thumb and forefinger and pinching it gently.

Xaviaro lets out a roar that shakes his whole body and possibly the room itself, or maybe the earthquake he unleashes is just inside of me. His inner muscles clench around me so tightly that I see stars, rippling and pulsing, milking the orgasm straight from my balls as I throw my head back and gasp out his name over and over.

His cock jerks and twitches, his entire body convulsing with the orgasm that rocks him, but he doesn’t spill a drop of cum while I rut into him wildly, filling him with my release and riding out the waves of pleasure that finally sate the burning desire inside of me. For tonight, anyway.

I slip my softening cock out of his loosened, cum-soaked hole and roll him onto his back again. The faraway, blissed-out smile on his sweat-drenched face gives me life. It gives me hope that whatever happens once this whole thing is over, it’ll work out. I’ll find my place here in Wildcliff. I think maybe I already have.

I undo each of the straps on the cock restraint, kissing the quickly fading indents one at a time as I work my way down. By the time I undo the strap around his balls, he’s clenching the bedsheets and sucking in trembling breaths again.

“Sparrow… Sir,” he whispers.

“I know,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to his balls before wrapping my lips around his cock.

I don’t even have him halfway down my throat before he swells and starts to pulse again, spilling thick ropes of cum onto my tongue faster than I can lap it up. His second orgasm goes on and on until he’s finally sagging, relaxed and boneless into the bed.

I gather the last few drops of his release onto my tongue and then release his softening cock. The bed jostles lightly under my weight as I crawl up the length of his body and settle against him with my head on his shoulder and one hand wrapped around the rope knot in the center of his chest.

“You’re always so good for me,” I say, kissing his collarbone and nuzzling my face into the crook between his shoulder and his throat. “You know, my apartment lease is only month to month. Maybe I shouldn’t renew it next week.”

Xaviaro folds his arms around me and pulls me impossibly closer, trapping me against him in the best way. “Don’t renew it,” he agrees, still sounding dazed and maybe only half awake. I should probably ask him again when he’s not all subbed-out.

“Hey, Xav?” I tilt my face so I can see his, tightening my grip on his harness and rubbing the tip of my nose against the stubble on his chin.

He hums, prying his eyes open to meet my gaze.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

His lips twitch and his eyes droop closed again. “That makes two of us.”

Chapter 19

XAVIARO

“So, does Enzo just live here, or what?” Sparrow asks as we enter Wild.

I’m still sore in all the best ways from last night, and brimming with energy thanks to a lazy morning in bed, doing my best to keep my little Sparrow distracted until it was time to leave for the meeting. I was worried if I didn’t occupy his attention, he might spend the morning stalking Big Bass like he’s been doing for the past two weeks, and with a soft green light, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t lose his patience and stab the massive biker. I love Sparrow, but that doesn’t mean there’s any appeal in having to drag Bass’s three-hundred-pound dead body down several flights of stairs.

“Nah, he lives in a penthouse downtown,” Elio answers for me, coming up behind us and slinging an arm casually around Sparrow’s shoulders.

My little bird snorts a laugh. “It was a figure of speech. You guys spend a lot of time here.”

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