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“You need to go back to the couch,” I say, trying my best to steady my words. The firmer I sound, the more he'll take me seriously.
“It was never one of your rules,” he responds, sounding groggy.
“What?” I ask, sitting up straighter.
“You gave me rules earlier, and me not sleeping in your bed was never one.” He yawns, stretching out his body against the bed.
This little shit. He's using my own damn rules against me. I shouldn’t expect any less from him. I huff out a laugh, yanking the sheet down to his feet. He stares back at me, his hair wild and eyes half lidded. “What did you do that for?”
“Get up.”
“And if I don't? Will you spank me again?” He arches a brow, his lips lifting into a smirk.
I knew this would come back to bite me in the ass. Everything with him always does. I stand up from the bed, searching for my pants as he sizes me up.
Glancing at the clock on the wall, I groan. “It's only three in the damn morning and you are testing my patience.”
“And you ruined a good night of sleep for me. I think you can make up for it by taking off your underwear and getting back in bed though.” His eyes heat and he grabs at the bulge in his boxer briefs.
“Enrico.”
“Since when do you use my name? I think that's twice in a row now.” He loops his arm around the pillow as if he has zero intentions of ever letting go.
“Five to be exact. You'd know if you didn't sleep like the fucking dead.” Huffing out a breath, I collect my pants from the floor and pull them on. His body molds itself to my bed, mocking me.
Running my fingers through my hair, I tug at the strands to break my attention from the way my sheets curve tightly around his perky, round ass. “You know what? Stay there and I'll go to the couch.”
We've shared a bed before, at the hospital a year ago. It should have never happened then and definitely can't happen now. My choices yesterday were stupid and I wasn't thinking with a clear head. I only knew I didn't want him going into that apartment. I wasn't sure why, or at least I didn't want to allow myself any time to answer my own question.
I wasn't lying when I said it was dangerous. I was already angry when I found out he wasn't taking his meds. Then I noticed him sneaking away from his guards and leaving in a car I'd never seen before. My blood was boiling and all I could do was follow him. He was about to enter some run-down apartment on the wrong side of town, and too many bad scenarios ran through my brain.
Yes, originally I was there to keep him safe, but something changed when he told me the reason he was about to enter a stranger's apartment. I hadn't played with a sub in a long time, and I never expected to start again with him.
I can't believe I missed the signs. They were there, staring me in the face, all along. He craved guidance, discipline, and direction, but I'm not supposed to be the one to want to give him that and more.
I stomp toward the living room and throw myself back on the couch, cursing under my breath. Fucking brat. I'm taking him home as soon as the sun rises and going back to keeping my distance. He's playing games with me and I'm giving him the upper hand. I no longer know where he starts and I begin. Did he know I'd follow him?
He looked so surprised to see me but also relieved. He was hoping for it. I close my eyes, rolling to my side. I can’t get settled and I fidget a few more times before grabbing one of the blankets by my feet. Reaching for the remote on the coffee table, I turn on the TV and cover myself with the blanket. I watch a few episodes of some random show until my eyes are too heavy to stay open.
Everything in front of me grows blurry and I'm finally dragged into darkness. Ignoring the loud footsteps approaching the living room, I hold on to the black void so tightly, I stay there in its comforting embrace.
My legs are pulled apart and a warm sensation spreads through the center of my body. The spiraling pleasure has me bucking my hips and gripping the cushions. The dream is so real. I swear someone is between my legs, digging their nails into my thighs, while a warm tongue runs over my slit.
I toss my head back, my eyes slowly fluttering open as gentle lips slide up my cock. Teeth slightly graze my skin as a light suction takes me over the edge. Moaning and shifting, I close my thighs. I freeze when I realize this is real, and someone is resting between them. The TV is still on and the bright glow casts a shadow on Enrico's face. He looks up at me, his eyes wide and bloodshot.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I attempt to push him away but end up running my fingers through his hair instead. The soft locks surround my hand, tickling my skin, and I forget what I'm supposed to be doing.
“Stop,” I say. “Pequeño. We can't.”
My words don't match my actions as I continue to fuck into his mouth. Everything he's doing feels too good to pull away from. I haven't gotten off in weeks because I was too worried the wrong images would appear in my head. They definitely will after this morning.
“Enrico,” I say between clenched teeth. “Do—”
My words are replaced with unintelligible sounds as I come, shaking. Unable to hold back or pull away, I come inside his mesmerizing mouth. He slumps and licks up every bit of my release with his tongue, his eyes animalistic. “No,” I say breathlessly. It doesn't matter how many times I shout it now. It's already too damn late.
What have we done? Did I just allow another man to suck me off? Did I really come in my best friend’s son's mouth and badly want to do it again?
