Page 68 of Beautifully Savage Butterfly

I grin and drag my nose along the shell of his ear. “When you first started coming around, showing up to all my fights, barging into the locker room to bother me after, I didn’t give a fuck who you were. I wasn’t scared of you, I wasn’t intimidated, I just wanted to wipe that cocky, entitled grin off your face. I used to imagine grabbing you by the hair and shoving my cock into your mouth to shut you up. I lost track of how many times I jerked off in that shower, wondering if you were on the other side of the door and what you would do if I put you over my knee and spanked the entitlement right out of you.”

He moans long and low, his inner muscles clenching and twitching around me.

“More,” he rasps, his body trembling and his breath coming in short, stilted gasps.

“I still want to spank the entitlement right out of you, Brat. Maybe we should have a standing appointment every night. I can turn your ass red and make you cry the way you deserve.”

Elio lets out a sob and bobs his head. “Yes.”

“Yeah? That’s what you want, isn’t it? You need someone to put you in your place every day, remind you that being the underboss of the high and mighty Morettis isn’t the be all end all. And then, if you’re good and you take your spankings the way you should, maybe I’ll let you ride my cock every night too. How does that sound?”

“Yes,” he moans again. “Yes, yes.”

My cock throbs and pulses inside of him, my balls painfully tight, my muscles aching with the urge to pound him the way we both want. He’s fucking close, I can feel it in the hitch of his breathing and the desperation dripping off of every sound he makes.

“Come for me like a good boy, Elio. Come for me like the eager cock slut you are.”

The sound that tears from his throat is fucking feral—half wail, half moan, entirely undone. He starts to pulse around me, hard, his inner muscles squeezing rhythmically around my cock, over and over as he sobs and gasps my name. Without even a twitch of my hips, I follow him over the edge, roaring as my balls clench and the heat in my gut explodes.

I bite and kiss the back of his neck, unbothered by the taste of the shampoo that coats his skin. I wrench him away from the wall just enough to wrap my hand around his throbbing cock, covered in his cum. I grind my hips, filling him deep with pulse after pulse of my release, stroking him through the lingering waves of his, until we’re both breathless and spent, and the water starts to run cold.

“Hey, Boss,” he says breathlessly.

“Mm?” I grunt, my softening cock still buried in his ass as I reach for the shower nozzle to rinse the shampoo out of his hair.

“When you said you didn’t want me to beat you to a proposal…”

“Don’t you dare, Brat,” I growl.

He gives a tired chuckle, tilting his head back to help me with the shampoo.

“I was just going to ask how long you’re going to make me wait.”

“Why don’t you let me worry about that,” I suggest, placing a few lingering kisses along the back of his shoulder.

I put the shower nozzle back and my cock slips out of his hole. After I turn off the water, I part his cheeks again and groan with satisfaction at the sight of his reddened pucker and my cum leaking out of it. I use my thumb to gather the stray droplets and push them back inside. Elio moans and shivers again.

“Hey, Boss?” he says again, and my lips twitch with a smile.

“Yeah, Brat?”

“I love you.”

My heart swells so big inside of me that it’s a wonder it doesn’t kill me. Emotion tightens my throat, and I wrap my arms around him again, nuzzling the crook of his neck and slowly breathing in the warm, wet smell of his skin.

“I love you too.”

EPILOGUE

SIX MONTHS LATER

ELIO

Orion chuckles as I pull into the driveway of the quaint little house I’ve been visiting just about every Sunday since I was born.

“What?” I ask, putting the car in park and glancing at the silver band on my ring finger. He proposed a month ago, slipping the ring on my finger while we were in bed one morning, and I still haven’t gotten over how fucking good it looks there. Maybe it’s not so much the ring as the fact that it’s proof Orion is mine. And, unlike all the bruises he’s so fond of leaving hidden under my clothes, I can actually show the ring off to the world.

“I just can’t get over the fact that a bunch of mobsters have Sunday dinner with Grandma.” He gets out of the car, and I do the same.

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