Page 7 of His to Protect

Felix couldn't help but steal a glance up at Dante's face, the cool confidence in his voice both intimidating and enticing. Dante continued to slide his fingers in and out of Felix, driving him crazy. But even as Felix writhed in his lap, taking his fingers to the knuckles, Dante's voice gave nothing away.

There was something incredibly alluring about that. He was so utterly in control — not only of the situation, but of Felix's body. Felix shivered.

In the confines of the car, Felix could just barely hear the other side of the conversation. Dante's boss was faintly audible. "Did he have the money on him?"

Felix froze. Just when he was going to finally get his money, now someone else was trying to take it…!

"Nope. He'd already blown it all when I got there."

Felix's eyes widened in surprise, his mind racing with questions. Why would Dante lie to his boss about the money? What did it mean for him? But before he could think about it more, Dante's fingers continued their relentless assault on Felix's sweet spot, making him bite back a shaky moan.

"Understood," the boss replied, clearly disappointed. "I'll let you know if Ajax finds any intel on the ringleader. We're going to find this Winston motherfucker and make him regret being born. Good work."

"Thanks, boss," Dante said before hanging up the call.

As Dante's attention returned back to him, Felix felt a flood of relief mixed with arousal. Dante had lied to protect him -- why? It was both thrilling and terrifying.

"Good boy," Dante murmured, his fingers never ceasing their expert strokes. He slowed down, dragging out every movement. "You kept quiet."

Felix could barely think straight, let alone form a coherent response. All he could do was nod, arching his hips back to take more of Dante's touch, his breath hitching as Dante drove him closer and closer to the edge.

Felix's vision blurred as he felt the heat of Dante's fingers inside him intensify, thrusting hard and fast against his prostate, milking him from the inside. The sensation was almost too much to bear, but he couldn't help himself. He bit down on his wrist, desperate to muffle the moan that threatened to escape his lips — and then he was coming again.

He could barely comprehend what was happening, his body betraying him as he came, pleasure surging through him like a tidal wave. His second orgasm tore through him, aching and sweet in equal measures. He gasped, his body tightening around Dante, desperate to wring out every inch of friction.

Dante let out a low chuckle, his tone laced with an undeniable authority -- and not a small amount of smugness. But instead of withdrawing, his fingers remained rooted within Felix. When Felix finally stilled, sweat-soaked and shivering, Dante began working him over again.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Felix gasped, his voice strained from the overwhelming stimulation. His cock was still throbbing, leaking come.

"Didn't I tell you? You have to get this shit out of your system." Dante's dark eyes held a wicked glint, and Felix shuddered under the weight of his gaze.

Oh, no. That was too much. His body already ached, wrung out past a normal release. But, unbelievably, he could tell that Dante was right, that needy desperation already beginning to rise up inside him. "It's too much…" The gasp slipped past Felix's lips before he could stop it, his pride crumbling beneath the force of his desire.

Dante smirked, a knowing gleam in his eyes. "You'll thank me later. Now, be a good boy, and hump my hand."

Any other time, a command like that would have made Felix furious. Now, the words ignited a fire within Felix, his body responding with primal abandon. He felt helpless, yet strangely exhilarated as he rocked back against Dante's lap, each movement driving Dante's skilled fingers even deeper inside him. He clung to the enforcer's legs, his nails digging into the thick fabric of Dante's jeans, seeking purchase as he chased after yet another orgasm.

"Fuck… Dante…" Felix whimpered. In Dante's lap, arching back to ride his hand, Felix lost himself completely in the sensation of the older man's powerful body pressing against him. It was intoxicating – the heat, the strength, the sheer power that radiated from every fiber of Dante's being.

"Look at you," Dante purred, his voice dark and velvety as he continued to finger Felix. "You're so desperate for it, aren't you? I've got you right where I want you."

Felix's breath hitched as Dante's words washed over him, making him shiver with need. He could feel Dante everywhere – the heat of his body, the press of his fingers deep inside him, and that commanding voice that seemed to reach into the very core of his being. He felt owned, controlled, and utterly lost in his submission.

"Come again for me," Dante ordered, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he twisted his fingers inside Felix, sending jolts of pleasure rocketing through him. He wrung Felix out, making pleasure flare through his oversensitive, overworked body. "Show me how much you need it."

Felix whimpered, his body trembling as he tried to hold onto some semblance of control. But it was no use – the combination of Dante's skilled touch and his heated words was too much for him to resist.

With a final, broken cry, Felix's world shattered once more, pleasure tearing through him like wildfire as Dante continued to manipulate him with ruthless precision. His cock ached, each forced pulse of come making him whine, right on the knife-edge line between pleasure and pain.

As the waves of ecstasy began to recede, Felix felt a sudden heaviness settling over him. His body was finally spent, leaving him panting and weak across Dante's lap, wrung out and absolutely done.

The enforcer withdrew his fingers slowly, giving Felix a moment to catch his breath. "Alright, kid," Dante said gruffly, reaching into his wallet and pulling out his reclaimed wad of cash. "I think that ought to take the edge off. We're done here. A promise is a promise. Here's your money."

As Dante handed him the money, Felix's heart sank, a feeling of shame washing over him. As he clumsily fumbled his pants back up, he couldn't help but feel dirty and used – like a cheap whore who had just been paid for services rendered.

Well, that was true, wasn't it? That was literally why he'd come to the motel tonight.

But if it was true, why did it feel so overwhelming?

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