I would die, but I would die happy.
“Dante,”I hear in my mind.“You taste like mine.”
I cry out, my body shaking as I try to stave off my orgasm, but the feel of him moving in and out of me, the knowledge that it’s him, that he likes it, is too much.
I lean up, grabbing onto his ears and holding him against me. His tongue vibrates within me, and I feel my cock jerking between my legs. I can’t stop shaking, can’t stop the moan that spills from my throat the moment I let go, and cum spills, hot ropes dribbling down my shaft.
It goes on and on, riding wave after wave of pleasure in my body, but also in my mind. It’s almost like I can feel his climax, his pleasure, like it belongs to me. For a moment, it feels like I’m going to lose my mind.
Like this is some sort of eternal torment. And then, before I can begin to beg for relief, he slows and then stops. His tongue is still inside of me, but this time it’s unmoving, apart from a gentle, occasional pulse, like he’s still savoring my taste.
I touch his head gently, wetting my dry mouth, and I attempt to speak, but words are beyond me.
I think that orgasm ruined my brain.
After a short, careful moment, Cielo slowly pulls out of me. The sensation makes me gasp, but it’s a welcome retreat only because he doesn’t go far. His body is still pressed close to mine as our eyes meet, and I drag my fingers through my mess on my stomach and hold it up to his lips.
His nostrils flare, and his tongue peeks out, but he shakes his head.
“Just a taste,” I whisper. Will he know it’s me when he tastes it? Will this be the moment the truth comes out?
Cielo’s nostrils flare wider, and his ears flick, and just when I think he’s going to refuse me again, his tongue curls around my fingers. He lets out a deep hum as he licks them clean, then his gaze meets mine.
There’s something in his eyes, and I feel a question pushing at the inside of my temple, but it’s wordless—a sort of curiosity without form.
But before either of us can say a word, we’re interrupted by a loud, blaring sound coming through the walls.
Cielo jumps up, his eyes wide with absolute terror.
“Fuck!” I try to grab him, but he darts away from my hands and leaps off the bed, clearly terrified. “It’s okay,” I say, shuffling off the bed. “Sweetheart, it’s okay. It’s just the fire alarm.”
Cielo trills loudly and picks me up, tucking me into him and moving toward the bedroom window. I’m pretty sure he plans on climbing out and bringing me to safety, which just makes me like him even more.
“No, no, Cielo. Put me down. It’s not loud enough to be coming from in here. It has to be next door.” I tap his shoulder as he wrenches the window open, and I let out a small laugh. “Cielo. Seriously. Put me down. You’re not going out the window like Spider-Man.”
He stops and cocks his head. “I think Gia and Amara are home. They probably burned something. They’re always doing that.”
“Buurrrrn. Fihhhreee. Hurt!”
“No, no. We’re safe, baby. Just put me down.”
“Bahhhbeee?”
“Yeah, baby.” I grin and press a kiss to his nose, making it scrunch up. “Look, we’re fine. But let’s go make sure Gia and Amara are okay. I swear, they probably got distracted and burned something in the oven.” He sets me down, and I quickly pull my clothes on and hand him his scarf, before taking his hand and pulling him toward the door. “One time, Gia wanted to warm up a donut she had and put it in the microwave for like ten minutes instead of ten seconds. They had to get another microwave. She completely burned it to pieces.”
“Ooooh,” he breathes, as I push the door open and step outside. Most of the time, I like the company of my cousin living next door, but honestly, their ill-timed smoke alarm fiasco cost Cielo and me a very special moment, so they’re not my favorite people right now.
“I mean, the Italians in my family were not happy about the news of the two of them using a microwave. They believe that’s a morally suspicious appliance, and then went on to say that society was collapsing.” I roll my eyes as I remember the hand flapping and yelling that ensued.
I ring their doorbell, and a moment later, the door opens, my cousin waving a tea towel around, smoke making the air hazy.
“Oh my god, Gia, what did you do now?” I ask, the blare of the alarm hurting my ears.
“Nice to see you too, stronzo,” she says and then scrunches up her nose, turning to look at Cielo and grinning. “Amara forgot to put water in the macaroni and cheese and put it in the microwave.”
“Again?”
“Yeah, we’re gonna have to get a new one. But you, handsome monster man—who looks in way better shape than last time—” She points to Cielo, who hasn’t let go of me. In fact, he only seems to hold onto me tighter. “Can you take the damn smoke alarm off the ceiling. We can’t reach it.”
