Page 43 of Consequences
When I unbuckle my pants and slowly push them down, his tongue darts out, moistening his lips. I grin wickedly, but don’t respond. Instead, I open the shower door, indicating for him to go in first. He lets out a moan of pleasure as the hot water hits his body.
When I step in behind him, I let my hands ghost over his skin, enjoying his shudder. I gradually add pressure as he melts into me, and I pay close attention to where Benjamin has worked him over the most. I drop a kiss on his shoulder before he turns and grabs the shower gel.
I close my eyes as he washes me, leaning into his ministrations. He lavishes attention on me, using the gel to bring me to the edge, before stopping and letting me rinse off.
When he drops to his knees, I groan in need.Fuck. I grit my teeth, trying to hold back my orgasm, but he takes me all the way in, and perfectly flicks his tongue against me when he pulls off. I reach out for the shower wall with my right hand, and grasp his shoulder with my left, as he continues to suck me off. As my legs start to shake, I grunt.
“Up, now,” I snap, barely recognizing my voice.
When he stands up, I struggle not to rush through washing him, but fail. I'm in too much of a hurry to get him into bed. Cursing, I swiftly get us out of the shower and dry us off.
I grab his hand tightly, pulling him to our bed. My heart pounds in anticipation and I push him down onto it, watching as he slides up further on the bed.
For a moment, I stop and stare at his body. This time I don’t see his scars. No, I can only see his perfection. The way he gazes up at me, not hiding his love for me. His firm body, which is the perfect size for me, a swimmer’s build fitting into the twink mold.
There’s a perfect bead of precum on his hard cock, and I lean in, swiping my tongue over it. His gasp of pleasure spur me on asI take him into my mouth. I keep my eyes on him, watching as he tosses his head back and forth.
I let go with a sigh, torn between watching him unravel now, or after I get inside him. When he rummages in the bedside table for the lube, it solves my dilemma.
I crawl up onto the bed, pushing his knees apart, so I can kneel in between them. Pouring lube onto my fingers, I slowly insert one before adding a second. He hisses at the pressure, from it being so long, and I take care to stretch him before adding a third.
I don’t go any further than that, as I want him to have that bite of pain when I enter him. The one reminder that I control everything of his—pain and pleasure. It belongs to me, always.
Grabbing his legs, I place them over my shoulders, folding him up to where I can enter deep. I don’t take it slow, one quick thrust and I’m in. I moan from the way his ass grips me, as he mewls from the intrusion.
I lean down and kiss him, waiting for him to relax. As soon as he does, I thread our fingers together. Ignoring the way I’m missing a digit, I focus solely on him.
“I love you, Little One.” I gasp as I start to move, wanting him to feel every emotion that’s pouring through me.
“Master,” he whispers as I carefully adjust so I’m hitting his prostate, wanting to drive him as crazy as he does me.
“No, call me Allesandro. I want to hear you, Emilio. I want you to know exactly who is making love to you.”
He shudders as he starts to meet my pace, his fingers tightening around mine. “Allesandro… God… Fuck…Allesandro…”
It’s a continuous litany, the words crashing over me as I speed up more, unable to hold back. “Fuck, Emilio, come for me. Come,now.”
I throw my head back, shouting as his ass clamps down around me, milking me until I can’t hold back anymore. I shudder as my thrusts become erratic, my orgasm going on for longer than I thought possible. For a moment, pure blackness overwhelms me. Gasping, I blink, noticing that I’ve fallen on him.
I grumble as I carefully unravel us, before pushing off him and landing on my back. I struggle to get my breathing under control, and when I look over, I smile at my Boy, who has already fallen asleep. There’s such an expression of innocence, my heart twinges, knowing I almost lost this—lost him—my soul, my heart, my everything.
Swallowing hard, I stumble to my feet, so I can wash us off. It doesn’t take more than a few minutes. Convincing Emilio to get under the blanket takes longer, as he mutters at me without even opening his eyes. Once he’s comfortable, I slide in next to him, curling around him.
“I love you,” I whisper. “More than I ever believed was possible. More than I wanted to be possible. Please, Love, I need you to be more careful.”
He doesn’t respond as I lay there, worrying about what’s to come. There’s too many enemies that we haven’t found. Eventually, I shove those thoughts out of my mind, and focus on what’s even more important right now—the man in my arms.
Drifting off to thoughts of a life together, and even possibly a child, I join him in slumber, content that nobody can interfere with this moment.
Cristian’s shout startles me out of sleep. My heart is racing as I sit up and turn the lamp on—the routine familiar enough by now that I’m able to go through the motions despite my own panic.
Seeing my husband’s face twisted up in pain, even in his sleep, is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do—the hardest being having to tell our son his father was gone.
Carefully, I reach out and run a hand down his arm, not wanting to startle him, but hoping to coax him out of his nightmare.
“Cris,” I say in a firm tone. “It’s just a dream, Honey.”
He turns toward my voice, and makes another distressed sound. “Alessandro…” he says, his voice rough and slurred with sleep.
