Page 144 of Fiorenzo

Again, Fiore wished he could snatch his words back out of the aether the moment he’d spoken them.

But Enzo didn’t seem sorry to hear them. Quite the reverse. A soft huff of laughter escaped through his shy, bitten-back smile.

And for that, Fiore had to reward him with a kiss.

This time Enzo followed him down onto the bed.

Tumbling Enzo down beside him proved easy enough. Divesting him of his wrapping-gown easier still. The tease of their aquatic adventure left him at half-mast, and brushing his cock against Enzo’s revealed him similarly eager.

However, when the moment came for Fiore to rise up atop Enzo and drive his sword into his willing sheath, he found his strength wanting.

His arms trembled under his own slender weight. His stomach lurched without bandage or sash to brace it. After a month-and-a-half of celibacy, after all his shameful begging and pleading, after he finally had his Enzo back in his arms and willing to fuck him—now he could hardly hold himself up, much less move. Fiore supposed he ought to count himself lucky his cock still stood, even if the rest of him could not.

Enzo didn’t seem disgusted or impatient or anything else Fiore felt. He took in Fiore’s infirmities with a glance and said, “Would you be willing to lie back and let me do the work?”

Fiore stared down at him. “Straddle me, y’mean?”

Enzo nodded with a shy and hopeful smile.

Fiore devoured that smile in a kiss.

Ever so gently, and with tenfold strength, Enzo laid Fiore down and arose. He sat astride Fiore’s hips with all the confidence of a man who could afford to ride horses. Their cocks slid against each other in Enzo’s fist, and Fiore bit back an unseemly sound at the welcome return of a delicious sensation. Enzo’s cunt followed in his cock’s wake, all the way up to the tip of Fiore’s blade; then he canted his hips and sank down onto it, all the way to the hilt.

Andfuck, Fiore had missed this.

The tight, wet heat of Enzo’s cunt held both the fiery passion of the forge and the perfect fit of the sheath. All this before he’d even begun to move. When he rolled his hips at last, Fiore had to seize his waist and hold on lest he come undone. Pleasure rippled through the walls of Enzo’s cunt and reverberated through Fiore’s prick. He dared to take Enzo’s cock in hand in turn and was threefold rewarded with an ecstatic shudder through Enzo’s frame, a broken moan escaping his throat, and the biting of his scarred lip. Fiore only wished he were near enough to kiss it. He settled for stroking Enzo’s cock and delighting in how Enzo thrust to meet his hand. The other reached up and caught a few tendrils of Enzo’s hair still wet from the bath. He twined them ‘round his fingers. A gentle tug sufficed to bring Enzo down to kiss him—needfully grinding his cock into him all the while. Fiore devoured him, just as ravenous as Enzo. Then breath demanded they break off and Enzo rose up once more, and Fiore drank in the view of Enzo towering over him, gleaming, triumphant, his lip caught between his teeth again, his head thrown back, hair cascading down his shoulders as spend cascaded from his cunt, heaving, writhing, riding him with equal parts gallantry and desperation. Fiore gave him another swift stroke, running his thumb over the cock-head beading with pearls—and with a shudder like sails in a storm, Enzo stuttered to a halt, his cunt clenching around Fiore in rhythm with his cock pulsing in Fiore’s fist, spilling liquid pearls over his knuckles. Fiore seized his ass and thrust into him from below, hard, fast, deep, another shudder from Enzo bent over him, another clench of his cunt, and Fiore followed him over the precipice to pour his own sea-salt spend into the tide flowing from Enzo’s cunt.

Enzo collapsed, retaining the presence of mind to support himself on his forearms braced on either side of Fiore’s head rather than crushing Fiore beneath him. Fiore threw his arms around him and dragged him down into his embrace. A kiss followed every gasp and a gasp followed every kiss until, sated at last, they settled for twining their limbs together and breathing as one.

“How d’you feel?” Enzo murmured against his lips.

“Wonderful,” Fiore told him—truthfully. The sheer relief of having Enzo in his arms again mingled with the raw ecstasy of fucking and the aching comfort of knowing Enzo still wanted him, Enzo didn’t despise his weakness, Enzo believed him worthy of desire and protection alike.

Enzo, not privy to any of this, pressed on. “Are you certain? Nothing pulled or twinged or—?”

Fiore caught his lips in a kiss.

“I’m fine,” Fiore insisted when they broke off for breath. But his secret satisfaction to have Enzo fussing over him belied itself in his bitten-back smile.

And, better still, Enzo gave him a bashful smile in return.

~

So many things Enzo hadn’t dared hope for.

For Fiore to survive. For Fiore to choose him. For Fiore to recover enough for intimacy—and, more importantly, towantto be intimate with him again.

And now Enzo had all these things quite literally wrapped up in his arms.

The sheer satisfaction of sating those desires Fiore had kindled in him paired with sentiment. He’d longed for Fiore to fuck him again, not just to fulfill his own erotic needs—and by the gods, how Fiore filled him—but in hopes that Fiore might for one brief moment feel pleasure rather than pain. He’d yearned to take Fiore’s most vulnerable flesh within his own body to shield him from the slings and arrows of the world, as a sheath would protect a blade. Still he’d kept his distance, all too aware of the toll Fiore’s ordeal had taken on his mind and body alike and not wanting to rob him of any more choice than he’d already lost.

So to have Fiore willingly, enthusiastically, and deliberately demand the affection Enzo had so desired to give him—well. Enzo knew not how to express his delight in granting both their fondest desires other than by riding him to their united finish and basking with him afterward in tender bliss.

Eventually Fiore’s hungry kisses gave way to softer caresses. His breaths slowed. His eyes fluttered shut. And, at last, he fell into the sweet sleep of Endymion.

Enzo remained awake a few moments more. Just long enough to run his fingers through Fiore’s soft curls and note how Fiore insinuated himself into his collar in return. Joy and relief mingled in his chest. He gave thanks to all the gods that his Fiore felt well again.

And vowed to wreak absolute vengeance on those who’d tried to destroy him.

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