Page 30 of Cold

I blinked down at him. “You did?”

Romare nodded sheepishly. “Yes,” he whispered. “I was hoping you would change your mind.”

I let out a laugh. “And what were you thinking about when you were stretching yourself?” I asked, plunging a finger into his hole.

“You,” Romare moaned out.

“What about me?” I asked.

Romare squirmed a little. “I thought about you doing this. Touching me and sticking your fingers inside of me.” He licked his lips. “I kept imagining your cock opening me up and you fucking me until I cried. And I thought about-Ah!”

I shoved another finger in and brushed them against his prostate. Romare’s words were cut off and all I could focus on was the desperate, needy look on his face. I pulled my fingers free and gave up on self-control.

My lips met Romare’s and his moans vibrated against my mouth. The warmth of his breath against my lips was inviting. I slipped my tongue into his mouth and we met, eager to draw more out of each other. Romare’s sweet, breathy moans made tingles shoot up my spine.

I pulled away just long enough to guide my cock against the entrance of Romare’s hole. He tensed in my arms and I waited.

“Do you want to stop?” I asked.

He shook his head hard. “Please, don’t,” he whispered. “I want to feel you.”

“Me too,” I answered truthfully.

I slipped inside of him and felt like I was being consumed by fire. Romare’s insides were hot and his nails had been embedded into my back. I thrust forward. His head fell back and I left a line of quick, sharp bites across his flesh.

“Daddy,” he moaned. “Fuck me hard, please.”

Did he just call me Daddy? I stared at Romare, unsure if I had heard him right, but he was too focused on the movement of my hips. Why do I find that so hot? Just the word Daddy stroked something inside of me and a growl spilled from my lips.

I wanted Romare to call me that for a hell of a lot more than one time. As a matter of fact, I wanted to be the only man he ever said those words to again. My hips snapped forward and he cried out again, his hand moving between us as he wrapped it around his cock and stroked himself.

“You look so good Romare,” I admitted. “The way you pump your cock makes me want to explode.”

He moaned, his gray eyes transfixed on mine. “Can…can you..” He stopped and gazed away.

“Tell me,” I demanded.

Romare’s gaze flickered back. “Can you call me a good boy?”

I smiled despite myself. Good boy? That was all he wanted? Romare really was a good boy. Despite all the murder. He still clutched Mr. Whiskers in his arm, tucking it against his body as I drove into him.

“Good boy,” I groaned against his ear. “Tighten that hole around my cock and cum for Daddy, baby. You’re doing so good taking it like this. Come on, don’t hold back.”

Romare’s panting turned up a notch and he fucked himself on my dick like he was going to die if he didn’t get to cum right then and there. His nails dug in shooting pain up my back that turned into pleasure. Tingles of satisfaction shot through me, and I felt my balls tightening.

Sex had always been good. The random people I took home had been alright enough, but as I fucked Romare I knew no one else would ever compare again. It was like we were made for each other and I didn’t give a damn about testing that theory out with another soul.

“Fuck,” I grunted. “Cum for me boy!”

Romare cried out and I felt hot ribbons of cum decorate my skin. He clenched around me so tightly that I had no choice but to fall off the edge and go hurtling toward my own release. I smashed my lips against his as I groaned and fucked out my orgasm.

I wish I was painting his insides with my cum. Next time. I can’t stand not marking every inch of him.

My cock throbbed as an errant spurt or two shot into the condom and I was spent. I’d been up all night thinking about Romare and what to do with him and now I was in desperate need of a smoke and a rest.

Romare rustled around while I laid on top of him. “You better not be getting that knife,” I warned.

He burst out laughing. “No, I’m not!” He caressed my hair. After a moment of silence, I heard the click of a lighter, and the smell of smoke permeated the air. “Here you go, Vito.”

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