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“Don’t stop,” he said huskily.
I pounded him, our bodies now slick with sweat. Part of me wished I could see his face while I fucked him, so I could watch as the pleasure overtook him. Next time.
He began shaking, his muscles clenching. “My dick. Please.”
My lips curled into a cruel smile. I liked him begging and desperate. More than anything I wanted to make him come from my cock alone. Nothing in the world felt better than a prostate orgasm. “No. Don’t dare touch it, Alessio. I’m all you need. Only me.”
He groaned and I kept at it. If I hadn’t come in the assassin’s mouth moments ago, I wouldn’t have lasted this long. Already I could feel my balls drawing tighter, but I wanted him to come first. No idea why it mattered all of a sudden, but it did.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted, his head hanging down. “Fuck, please.”
Slick slaps filled the room, our exhales picking up in volume. I grabbed his hair for leverage and yanked him back toward me, riding him properly. Instantly, his muscles contracted and he shouted to the ceiling. His body began milking mine, squeezing me as his climax went on and on.
It was too good. I couldn’t take it anymore.
After a few more thrusts, pleasure burst through me, rushing up my legs and out my dick. The orgasm dragged me under, leaving me helpless as jets of come shot into the latex.
As it ebbed, I slumped over him and tried to regain my breath. I was weak and dizzy, like he’d turned me inside out. That had been fucking amazing. A thousand times better than a quick blow job in a club. It felt right in ways I couldn’t explain. I already wanted to do it again.
I gripped the base of the condom and pulled out. Alessio hissed when I slipped free, and I patted his hip before departing for the toilet.
At least tonight, the only way one of us would kill the other was with a dick.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Alessio
My limbs were still shaking when Giulio flopped back down on the bed. Our bodies were close, but not touching. “That was fun,” he said.
I shifted to face him. “No regrets?”
The edge of his mouth kicked up. “None.”
“You’re very good at that.”
He dragged a hand down his face. “A bit out of practice.”
God help me if this got any better with him. I think he fucked my brains into next week.
“I want to shower,” he announced, stretching his long body.
I closed my eyes, exhausted and dick-drunk. “Go ahead, then.”
“Come with me.”
That caught me by surprise. I cracked one lid to peer at him. “Shower with you?”
“Yes. Do you have something against it?”
“No, I just . . . .”
“Andiamo, assassino.” He slapped my hip and rolled off the bed. “Let’s get clean and then we can discuss my dick in your mouth again.”
I snorted as I slowly sat up. “I need more than a few minutes before my muscles are capable of that.”
He disappeared into the washroom. “That’s okay,” he called. “You can lie there and I’ll fuck your mouth.”
Unbelievably, my dick twitched. That sounded hot.
