Page 90 of Various Intentions
A sob escaped Vincent’s throat as Matteo’s release splattered his skin.
I pushed three fingers into Vincent as I wrapped my hand around his cock and jerked him with rough strokes. He thrust into my hand, clenched around my fingers and came with a cry.
It took two hours, a hot bath, and several glasses of wine before they’d deign to speak to me. But when they did it was with a begrudging respect and an admission that, although tortuous and sadistic, the scene had been a resounding success. I looked forward to devising even more ingenious ways of torturing them.
Chapter Sixteen
Juno wanted to surprise Charles with a special gift. They still suffered residual guilt for their behavior during their mini-breakdown, and their therapist had suggested they try to make amends.
“Are we just supposed to pick out any puppy?” Vincent asked, on the way to the breeder in Stittsville. I rode shotgun, and Matteo sat in the back seat. Both of my men had insisted on helping to select the perfect puppy for Charles, and who could blame them?
“Oh no. Juno gave me strict instructions. It has to be healthy and alert—”
“Obviously,” Vincent said.
“But they want a black and silver puppy, if there is one. When they spoke to the breeder on Thursday, there were three left with that coloring—one male and two females. They don’t care what gender it is, of course, but it needs to be—and I quote—'a fitting addition to our aesthetic.’”
Matteo put a hand to his forehead, then chuckled. “The idea of finicky Juno bringing a dog into their swanky apartment is…unexpected.”
“I know. But the breed is reasonably small and non-shedding. They do tend to be yappy, though,” I said.
We exchanged a glance.
“Like Juno?” Matteo said mildly.
“Hold your tongue,” I said, but couldn’t help smiling.
“Wouldn’t it have made more sense to let Charles pick out the puppy?” Vincent asked. “It’s going to be his, after all.”
“Juno wants it to be a surprise.”
The breeder’s house was on the outskirts of Stittsville proper and tricky to locate. Thank God for Google Maps. When we parked in the driveway and got out, a number of handsome little dogs ran to the backyard fence and began a jovial round of barking.
“That keeps the burglars away,” I said.
Matteo smiled. “Yes, it would.”
Vincent walked right up to the fence and held out his hand to be sniffed and licked with much frenzied affection. He glanced back at us.
“I don’t know how aggressive these dogs would be with a burglar—probably lick him to death.” He turned back to the group of dogs fighting to get to him, wagging their stub tails. “Okay, I admit, theyarecute.”
I raised my hands. “We’re here for a puppy forCharles.”
“Actually?” Vincent said with a surprised smile. “I was hoping that was a set-up and you were secretly planning on letting me pick one out forus”
We made our way to the front door as I digested that bit of information. I glanced at Matteo, who raised his eyebrows, as if he’d thought the same thing.
“Are you kidding? You’re kidding, right?” I said.
“I wouldn’t be opposed to bringing a pup home,” Matteo confessed.
“But…you’re allergic!”
“To cats. Not to dogs.”
“Oh fuck, I don’t know. Do we really need a dog? Do wewanta dog? Who’s going to train it?”
“I will. I’m home all day, remember?” Vincent said. He gave me a look with those vivid blue eyes that I’d never been able to say no to, unless he was bound in ropes on the spanking bench. And even then…
