Page 16 of The Bratty Heir

Luca could only moan in response, lost in the overwhelming pleasure. Each snap of Victor's hips sent sparks of ecstasy shooting up his spine, his prostate assaulted with unerring accuracy.

"Answer me," Victor demanded, one hand coming up to wrap around Luca's throat. The pressure was light, more of a reminder than a real threat, but it sent Luca spiraling even higher.

"Yes!" Luca cried, his voice breaking. "Yes, Daddy, please. Don't stop, feels so good..."

Victor's rhythm faltered for a moment, a groan torn from his throat. "Fuck, baby. The things you do to me..."

He redoubled his efforts, pounding into Luca with a ferocity that bordered on feral. Luca met him thrust for thrust, his nails raking down Victor's back hard enough to leave marks.

"Close," Luca gasped, teetering on the edge of orgasm. "Please, Daddy, can I come? Need to come so bad..."

Victor's hand wrapped around Luca's neglected cock, stroking in time with his thrusts. "Come for me, baby boy," he growled. "Show Daddy how good I make you feel."

The command was all it took. Luca came with a scream, his vision whiting out as pleasure crashed over him in overwhelming waves. He clenched down hard on Victor's cock, milking him for all he was worth.

With a guttural roar, Victor followed him over the edge. Luca felt the hot pulse of Victor's release, marking him from the inside out.

They collapsed together in a tangle of sweaty limbs, both panting heavily. Victor's weight was heavy on top of Luca, but he found he didn't mind. It felt grounding, comforting in a way he'd never experienced before.

As the afterglow faded, reality began to creep back in. Luca tensed, suddenly uncertain. What did this mean for them? For their relationship?

Victor must have sensed his unease. He rolled to the side, gathering Luca into his arms. "Shh," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to Luca's temple. "It's okay, baby. I've got you."

Luca burrowed closer, suddenly overwhelmed by emotion. "Don't leave," he whispered, hating how small and vulnerable he sounded. "Please, Victor. Stay with me for a while? We can train later.”

Victor's arms tightened around him, a soft rumble of contentment vibrating through his chest. "I'm not going anywhere, little prince," he promised. “You’ve been a good boy and earned a break. I’ll be right here when you wake up."

As Luca drifted off to sleep, safe and sated in Victor's arms, he couldn't shake the feeling that everything had changed. For better or worse, there was no going back now.

CHAPTER 7

SHIFTING ALLEGIANCES

Rocco paced nervously through the opulent living room of the Rossetti penthouse, his designer shoes clicking against the marble floor. Today was the day—his first major negotiation as the heir to the Rossetti empire.

Victor leaned against the wall, his muscular arms crossed over his broad chest. His eyes tracked Rocco's every movement, a mixture of concern and pride in their stormy depths.

"You need to calm down, little prince," Victor rumbled, his deep voice sending shivers down Rocco's spine. "You've got this."

Rocco paused his pacing, running a hand through his carefully styled hair. "Do I?" he asked, hating how small and uncertain his voice sounded. "What if I fuck it up? What if I embarrass the family?"

In two long strides, Victor closed the distance between them. His large hands came to rest on Rocco's shoulders, steadying him.

"Look at me," Victor commanded softly.

Rocco lifted his gaze, meeting Victor's intense stare. The older man's thumbs stroked soothing circles on Rocco's collarbone, the touch both comforting and electrifying.

"You are Rocco fucking Rossetti," Victor said, his voice low and fierce. "You were born for this. And I'll be right there beside you, every step of the way."

Warmth bloomed in Rocco's chest at the words. He leaned into Victor's touch, drawing strength from the older man's unwavering support.

"Promise?" Rocco whispered, hating how needy he sounded but unable to help himself.

Victor's eyes softened, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Promise, baby boy. Now let's go show those fuckers what you're made of."

The drive to the meeting location was tense, the air in the car thick with anticipation. Rocco's leg bounced nervously, his fingers fidgeting with the cuffs of his expertly tailored suit.

Victor's hand came to rest on Rocco's thigh, the heat of his palm searing through the expensive fabric. "Relax," he murmured, giving Rocco's leg a gentle squeeze. "Remember what we practiced. You've got this."

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