Page 17 of Complications

“What?” Michel snarled into his phone. He hadn’t even bothered to look who it was. “Shit. Yeah, he’s still here.”

I closed my eyes and willed the phone to go dead.

“Teo, I know. Yeah, I’ll clean him up, but no promises on talking sense into him.”

The silence after Michel clicked off the call was a lead weight over us both.

“Now what?” I asked because I wasn’t ready to leave his presence. I’d been studying him for years.

His breaking point was near, and I knew it. I just needed to push him a little further, and then maybe I’d get exactly what I had always wanted from him. Given that Matteo was calling him away, I knew I wasn’t going to have another shot anytime soon because the minute we were out of this room, the real world would be back. And that was the world that said I was unimportant to them and he was vital. He patched them up. He protected them. He saved them. I was the inconvenience who bothered them.

And I was going to shoot my shot and let the shrapnel land where it did.

“Christ, Elio, what are you doing?” Michel ground out.

Rather than answer, I let my hands drop to his belt buckle and decisively pulled the leather free, unhooking it in one smooth motion. His cock was already hard, and more importantly, directly in front of my mouth. I pushed the waistband aside and shoved his shirt up out of the way. There he stood, straining against his briefs, the musky scent of his precum almost overwhelming me.

My mouth watered in anticipation because this had been years in the making.

“Elio, this is a bad idea.”

“I know.”

Michel hadn’t told me no, though, and that was all that mattered.

I looked up through my eyelashes from my vantage point on my knees in front of him. He stared down at me with conflicted eyes while harsh frown lines bracketed his mouth. But the want was there and evident, and it made the risk worth it. In fact, nothing else mattered to me.

But I needed him to give me permission.

Not once did I look away. Whether he accepted or rejected my unspoken offer, he’d do it with a clear view of what I wanted.

And that was him.

Always him.

“Pull out my cock.”

Relief, mixed with desperate need, coursed through me.

His words were what I’d hoped to hear and I moved before he changed his mind.

I slipped my hands under the waistband of his briefs, pushing the fabric of his pants out of the way and pulling out his beautiful dick. The head glistened with precum, and I couldn’t stop myself from taking a quick lick across the top. Michel’s groan was immediate, and I returned for one more forbidden taste.

I slipped him into my mouth, my tongue swirling around the head before finding that little cluster of nerves just beneath the rim. My hand slid lower so I could cup his balls while I continued to taste him, and he fed me more of his cock as I eagerly took him down. There wasn’t a lot of finesse. Just need. Drool leaked from my mouth as I focused on giving him a blowjob he’d never forget.

Michel’s hands found my hair, his fist clenching in the strands as he thrust into my mouth. I was in absolute heaven. The sting of his grip kept me centered, and each inch he pushed deeper cut off my airway a little more. I worked to breathe through my nose so I didn’t have to stop tasting him. The velvet smoothness swept across my tongue until my face was buried at the juncture of his thighs and he was fully down my throat.

His hands left my hair and traced the taut skin of my throat. I swallowed reflexively, and the small movement pulled an aching groan from him.

“Fuck, baby, that’s so good. Your mouth is a goddamn sin.”

I couldn’t speak, but my answering moan was enough for him to pull back the slightest bit before thrusting forward again.

“You look so good on your knees.”

His thumb swept across my cheek. My eyes watered from the lack of air as he filled my throat, and I fucking loved it. With my mouth full of him, I couldn’t speak and didn’t try. Instead, I braced myself more firmly.

Michel’s mouth curved into a small smile.