Page 66 of A Heart Disguised 1

The evidence of Robin’s pleasure was undeniable, his cock hard and weeping between them. Darius shifted his angle deliberately, pressing against that sensitive length with eachmovement of his hips. The action drew a sharp cry from Robin’s throat, his entire body shuddering as if struck by lightning.

“Both,” Robin managed to whimper, his fingers digging crescents into Darius’ shoulders. “Neither. I don’t— Ah!”

His words dissolved into incoherence as Darius wrapped his free hand around Robin’s length, stroking in time with his thrusts. The dual sensation proved too much for the boy, tears of pure pleasure gathering at the corners of those bright-emerald eyes.

“Fascinating,” Darius murmured, his voice rough with both amusement and desire. “For someone who claims it’s too much, your body seems remarkably eager for more.”

Indeed, Robin’s inner muscles clenched around him like a silken vise, the tight channel massaging Darius’ length with each stroke. The boy’s body was a marvel of contradictions—innocent yet wanton, resistant yet welcoming. Each squeeze threatened to rob Darius of his control, yet he refused to succumb. Not when Robin’s pleasure was such an exquisite sight to behold.

He varied his grip on Robin’s cock, alternating between firm strokes and teasing touches, his thumb occasionally swiping across the sensitive tip. Robin’s reaction was immediate and profound—his back arching off the floor, a strangled cry tearing from his throat as his first release hit him with the force of a storm. Hot seed spurted between them, painting their chests with evidence of his pleasure.

Yet Darius did not relent. If anything, the sight of Robin so thoroughly undone only fueled his desire to push the boy further.

“Did you think we were finished?” he asked, his voice a dark velvet caress as he continued to drive into Robin’s oversensitive body. “Oh no, my sweet. I intend to wring every drop of pleasure from you until you can’t remember your own name.”

“Your Grace,” Robin sobbed, his body trembling with aftershocks even as fresh waves of pleasure began to build. “I truly can’t—”

“You can,” Darius assured him, punctuating his words with a particularly deep thrust that had Robin seeing stars. “And you will. Your body knows what it wants, little bird. Let go. Trust me to catch you.”

Robin’s response was lost in a cry of pure ecstasy as Darius’ expert manipulation of his body sent him spiraling into another climax. The sight of him—flushed and desperate, tears of pleasure streaming down his cheeks as his body convulsed with release—was the most beautiful thing Darius had ever witnessed in his centuries of existence.

Still, Darius drove on, his pace becoming almost punishing in its intensity. Robin had long since lost the ability to form coherent words, reduced to breathless whimpers and broken cries of “Your Grace” that seemed torn from the depths of his soul. His body responded to every touch, every thrust, as if it had been crafted solely for Darius’ pleasure.

When the third climax hit, it took them both by surprise. Robin’s back arched like a drawn bow, his inner walls clenching with such force that Darius had to grit his teeth against his own release. The boy’s cock pulsed weakly between them, managing only a few precious drops this time, yet his pleasure seemed even more intense than before.

“Beautiful,” Darius growled, his control finally beginning to slip as he watched Robin shatter apart beneath him. “So perfect for me, so responsive…”

Robin could only sob in response, his body trembling like a leaf in a storm. His legs had long since lost their strength, but Darius held him steady, continuing his relentless assault on Robin’s senses. The boy’s inner walls fluttered andsqueezed around him, a desperate rhythm that spoke of both overstimulation and building pleasure.

When the fourth release crashed through Robin, it was almost silent—his mouth open in a soundless scream, his eyes rolled back, and his entire body seized in ecstasy. The sight of him so thoroughly claimed, so completely undone, finally broke Darius’ iron control. With a growl that shook the very foundations of the room, he buried himself to the hilt and let go, filling Robin’s welcoming heat with pulse after pulse of his demonic seed.

As they both came down from their shared high, Darius pressed tender kisses to Robin’s tear-stained cheeks, his forehead, his trembling lips. The boy was barely conscious, lost in a haze of pleasure and exhaustion.

When Robin finally managed to focus his eyes, they were glazed with a mixture of satisfaction and disbelief. “I think,” he whispered, his voice hoarse from crying out, “I’m going to die.”

Darius couldn’t help the rich chuckle that rumbled through his chest. “I won’t allow it,” he murmured, brushing a strand of sweat-dampened hair from Robin’s forehead. “Besides, my sweet little bird, I have so many more plans for our lovemaking.”

“More?” Robin’s eyes widened almost comically. “Your Grace, if this is just the beginning, I fear my fragile human body might not survive your… enthusiasm.”

“Trust me,” Darius purred, pressing a kiss to Robin’s temple as he gathered the trembling boy closer. “I’ll ensure you can handle everything I have to offer. After all, what kind of husband would I be if I didn’t take proper care of my bride?”

Robin managed a weak laugh, nuzzling into the curve of Darius’ neck. “A less exhausting one, perhaps?”

“Ah, but where would be the fun in that?” Darius smiled against Robin’s hair, his heart swelling with an emotion he wasn’t quite ready to name.

Darius took a perverse pleasure in seeing the usually articulate Robin reduced to incoherent pleas and nonsensical protests. There was something innately satisfying about stealing the words right out of that clever mouth—but not nearly as satisfying as the act that had left Robin so deliciously boneless.

Yet even in his dazed state, Robin did not lose his penchant for sassing his new husband. Darius found himself irrationally eager to hear what witty quip those kiss-swollen lips would form next.

With a low chuckle, he lifted Robin into his arms, earning a startled squeak from the boy. Robin’s eyes, still glazed with satisfaction, regarded him with a mixture of hope and disappointment.

“Are we… finally going to bed now?” Robin asked, his voice tinged with both anticipation and a note of regret. Darius could see the desire for more—much more—burning in those vivid green eyes, even as the boy’s body trembled with exhaustion.

“Indeed, my little bird,” Darius replied, his voice laced with wry amusement. “But not just yet.” He carried Robin to a plush sofa nestled in a secluded corner of the room, settling the boy onto his lap with a gentleness that seemed at odds with his imposing stature.

Robin watched, eyes wide and lips parted, as Darius poured a generous measure of heady wine into two goblets and handed one to Robin. The wine kissed Robin’s lips, and Darius watched, entranced, as a stray droplet escaped, tracing a path down his chin, over the elegant column of his neck, and disappearing into his chest.

Darius leaned forward and followed the wine’s trail with his tongue, eliciting a shiver from Robin that vibrated through both their bodies. The boy squirmed against him, a delightful friction that stoked the embers of Darius’ desire back into flame.

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