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“Aren’t you a handsome sight,” Fiore purred.
Enzo blushed further still.
Fiore took up the crop again—to Enzo’s evident delight, judging by the way the jewel in his throat pulsed in another hard swallow. He tapped its leather tongue against the insides of Enzo’s knees. They slid further apart at his silent command, making room enough for Fiore to slip between them. But he did not do so just yet.
First the crop trailed up the inside of Enzo’s thigh, the skin shivering in its wake, to the root of his prick, which stood as rigid-yet-supple as the crop itself. The leather tongue traced the throbbing vein on the underside all the way to the tip. Another pearl of seed rewarded his teasing efforts. Then down again, past the root to his cunt, where the leather came away glistening. A bitten-off moan escaped Enzo at its loss.
Fiore leaned into the space Enzo had made for him. The breath came shallow and ragged. The eyes had fluttered shut. Yet it took just the barest touch of Fiore’s fingertips against that strong jaw for the whole immense frame to go taut with a gasp and for the eyes to snap open and fix their enormous darkness on Fiore.
“Can you tell me what you want?” Fiore murmured gently.
Enzo worried his scarred lip between his teeth. Fiore wondered if speech were beyond him. Some men lost their words altogether when they entered such a state as this.
But then a hoarse whisper emerged, so low Fiore had to almost press his cheek to Enzo’s to hear.
“Fuck me,” Enzo begged. “Please.”
Fiore felt as if he’d waited all his life to hear him ask. He tucked the crop away for the moment by threading it through Enzo’s arms and behind his head, which provoked another strangled sound of pleasure from the depths of Enzo’s throat.
Then he slipped forward and brought his rigid prick to bear with Enzo’s cunt.
Despite his own desperate desire to lose himself within Enzo, he restrained his instincts and instead caressed the slick petals with his cock-head. Enzo’s hips bucked. Fiore seized them in his hands and held them still.
“Patience,” Fiore purred.
Enzo bit his lip hard, but obeyed.
Fiore rewarded him by letting just his cock-head slide into his cunt. There he paused again—as much to master himself as to tease Enzo—before slowly, by the barest fractions of an inch, sheathing his blade within him. The tight, wet heat consumed him and threatened to overpower his resolve. He vented a fraction of this by devouring Enzo’s mouth in a kiss.
Enzo’s hips remained still throughout. His hands, however, as Fiore beheld when he broke off for breath, clenched and unclenched, his wrists straining against their bonds in his efforts to honor Fiore’s command.
Fiore released his waist and let his fingertips trail down over the tops of Enzo’s trembling thighs. Enzo shuddered in his wake. Fiore, feeling just as tormented by restraint, if not moreso, rolled his hips at last, slowly rocking in and out of Enzo’s tight wet sheath. A broken moan escaped Enzo’s scarred lips.
“Is this what you wanted?” Fiore whispered. “All those hours spent binding your fellow students, watching their lovers bring them to ecstasy, and none to give you what you wished in return? Imagine if they had. How many were gathered—a dozen? A score? How many would it take to satisfy you? You would serve them all so well. So obedient. So obliging. You would’ve taken such good care of them all—if only they would do the same for you.”
And between every measured thrust of cock and words alike, Enzo answered him with a hushed and frantic, “Yes.”
Enzo’s cock lay trapped beneath them, smearing its leaking seed over them both. Fiore took it in hand. Enzo shuddered.
“Too much?” Fiore murmured against his ear.
He felt rather than saw Enzo shake his head in reply. “More. Please.”
It was thepleasesthat would prove his undoing, Fiore thought. Each one that dropt from Enzo’s scarred lips made Fiore’s cock pulse. Enzo’s cunt clenched ‘round him in turn. He didn’t know how much longer he could last. He rolled into Enzo as he rolled his foreskin over his cock-head. Enzo’s deep moan reverberated through Fiore’s own ribcage.
“Did the ropes and crops mark your fellows?” Fiore asked. At Enzo’s fervent nod, he continued. “Did you envy them? Did you covet their reminders of all the pains and pleasures they’d endured?”
“Yes,” Enzo hissed.
Fiore grinned. “Do you want your own now?”
Enzo’s answer was almost a sob. “Please.”
Fiore indulged him, bending to kiss a bruise onto his collarbone. While Enzo wandered the city cloaked head to foot, old habits died hard, and he’d long ago learnt not to mark his gentlemen anywhere a shirt wouldn’t cover. He concluded his kiss with a nip. Enzo writhed with pleasure in his embrace.
“You like that, don’t you,” Fiore observed—having to swallow down his own moan of pleasure to do so. “Yet still you want more.”
Enzo nodded. His trembling thighs clenched around Fiore’s waist. Shivers chased each other across his flesh. “Please.”
