Page 31 of Desperately Delicate Viper

“Fuck.” He arches off the bed and then thrusts between my lips again. “I’m so close. Green light. Green light. Green…”

I break from my statue state and pull off his cock with an obscenely wet slurp. I scramble back up his body and we collide in another feral kiss. I’m vaguely aware that I’m still half-dressed, my cock swinging free from my open pants, my shirt wrinkled and probably missing a couple of buttons at this point. But all I really give a fuck about is all the places our skin meets, both of us damp with sweat, humping and grinding and pawing at each other like animals in heat.

Anders slips his hands under my shirt and drags his blunt nails down the length of my back, setting my skin on fire in the best way. The hot, wet weight of his cock against mine makes my toes curl and my balls tighten with every thrust. The bed creaks under us, and the room fills with the sound of our babbled words and guttural moans.

“I need you. You’re mine. Mark me up, make me hurt for you,” I murmur between tongue-heavy kisses.

“Luca. Luca.Luca,” Anders chants my name with increasing urgency, meeting my thrusts with his own, wrapping his legs around my waist and grinding himself against me.

He twists my nipple roughly between his fingers and bites down so hard on my bottom lip that my mouth fills with the metallic tang of blood. That rush of pain is all it takes to send me over the edge. I shout into his mouth, my thrusts stuttering as my balls constrict and my cock starts to pulse against his. Anders swallows the sound and then reaches between us, breaking the kiss to throw his head back and moan from deep in his chest as he wraps his hand around both our cocks and strokes us wildly.

Hot bursts of his cum join mine, soaking us both with rope after rope of our releases. My thighs tremble and all of my muscles clench with the waves of pleasure that go on and on. Every bite and scratch aches on my skin like a brand, my scalp tingles and so do my lips. Anders works us both furiously until my cock starts to soften and become oversensitive. He finally shivers and releases one last thick spurt of cum before letting his hand fall away.

He sags into the bed and a satisfied smile curls the corners of his lips. I let my weight sink into him for just a second, reveling in the sticky, wet feeling of our cum all over our skin as I brush soft kisses over his lips.

ANDERS

Of all the things that nearly made me cry today, Luca’s tenderness following our orgasms is the one that rocks me the hardest. I swallow around the tight feeling in my throat as he rolls off of me.

“Thanks.” I let out a hoarse laugh, and Luca arches an eyebrow at me.

“Believe me, there’s no thanks required.” He nuzzles my cheek and then pulls me close again.

I rest my head on his shoulder and breathe slowly, focusing on the warmth of his skin and the smell of our sweat and cum hanging in the air, instead of the burning tears threatening to spill out or the realization that I forgot what it even felt like to be held after sex.

“How did a cinnamon roll pain slut like you become a mafioso anyway?” I ask, absently swirling my finger through the dark hair on his chest.

He chuckles. “Family business.” My head jostles with his shrug.

“Duh,” I mutter. “Moretti. That makes sense.” Luca caresses up and down the curve of my spine and goose bumps pebble my skin. “Do you like it? Or is that a weird question to ask?”

He laughs again. “I like it just fine. I’m definitely not gunning for Lorenzo’s job or anything, but I’d be happy enough to work my way up a few rungs into a cushy position.”

There’s something amusing about the way he talks about his job just like anybody with a nine-to-five corporate career. Like he’s not working for a criminal organization with blood on its hands and a pile of dirty money behind it. Then again, I suppose that’s not all that different from most corporations when you get right down to it. Besides, who am I to judge? Some people need to have their blood spilled.

My jaw ticks and my calm, sleepy mood evaporates. I sit up and Luca huffs in protest.

“I’m hungry,” I say, nudging him in the ribs.

He sits up too and swings his legs over the side of the bed. He undoes the last few buttons on his shirt and shrugs it off, then stands up and strips out of his pants and underwear.

“Well, if you hadn’t attacked me the second I got in the door, you would know that I brought home sandwiches.”

My lips twitch. “Are you complaining about the greeting?”

He leans back over the bed and brushes another kiss to my lips.

“Not at all.”

We get cleaned up and I put a fresh set of his clothes on because I’m tired of lounging around his place in my tight shorts and see-through shirt. Luca directs me to the couch and tells me to pick something for us to watch while he goes to the front hall to retrieve the bags he dropped on his way in.

I pull upKiller Klowns From Outer Spaceand put my feet up on the coffee table.

“Nice,” he mutters when he sees what I picked. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got a variety.” He sets down two bags brimming with sandwiches, then plops down next to me.

I stare at all the sandwiches for a second, each one labeled so I can easily choose what I want. A lump rises in my throat again and the burn returns, right behind my eyes.

Luca bumps his shoulder against mine. “They’re just sandwiches,” he says softly.

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