Page 106 of The Silencer

My finger trails up his taint and I push it back inside.

“Anthony, my god,” he moans as I continue to push my cum back into him. “It can’t stay in there forever.”

“Perhaps I should buy you a plug and make sure it does.”

He lets out another groan and then turns around, staring up at me, his chest smeared with his release.

“Let me get this on film,” I say, grabbing my camera and pushing his legs up, exposing his dripping hole to the lens. I snap in rapid succession and then let the camera fall to the side.

As I do, his hands drag up my thighs and cup my dick gently.

“I can’t believe you’re fucking me now. I’ve had dreams of this. So many dreams.”

He’s still half asleep, half dazed. I lean down and brush a hand across his cheek.

“It’s not a dream anymore, Tatum. This is your life now.”

He gives me a wobbly smile and then throws an arm across his eyes.

“Fine, I accept. Now draw me a bath, Mr. Mob Boss Man. I want you to wash me and then fuck me in the tub. Maybe take some more pictures of me, of us together.”

My dick is fully hard now, imagining it.

“As you wish,” I say softly and then push up, leaving him in my bed to turn on the water and warm the tub.

And I do wash him clean before fucking him, our bodies moving so frantically that the water splashes over the rim and onto the floor.

Neither of us gets out for a long while after, his head on my shoulder, his legs wrapped around me. And I’m loath to let him go.

I’m never letting him go.

We eventually make our way downstairs to the kitchen, Tatum leaning against me, his legs slightly bowed and wobbly from the earlier fucking I gave him.

It makes me incredibly proud, more proud than most things I’ve accomplished in my life. I’ve built empires, taken down entire crime families, and yet seeing Tatum satisfied like this takes it to another level.

The way my chest puffs out and my fingers tighten around him.

I want to mark him, make sure everyone knows he’s mine.

No one will touch him now.

Not a fucking soul or I will rip them apart, bit by bit.

“Oh, good morning,” Matty says, sipping a cup of tea. Agatha is bustling around the kitchen making breakfast, her grin widening when she sees who I’m with. Of course, he’s even endeared himself to her. He seems to have done the same with everyone in my employ.

I nod at Matty, taking in his colorful Disneyland shirt with his name scrawled prettily on the bottom. I turn my gaze to a grumpy Sebastian, who is wearing a matching one and my lips twitch. He looks ridiculous. Who would’ve thought that the infamous Sebastian LeClerc would voluntarily wear Disney merchandise?

“I like your shirt,” I say to him, and he glowers at me.

“Not a fucking word.”

“Oh, but you look adorable,” Matty coos, leaning into his husband and nuzzling into his neck. “Right, Tatum?”

Tatum grins widely. “He does. Like a happy little cherub.”

Sebastian scoffs, looking ready to murder someone. I can understand the predicament he’s in. If Tatum asked me to wear that godforsaken shirt, I’d do it, all while plotting the demise of everyone around me.

“So, you’re off to Disneyland today, I take it?” I ask, and Matty bounces in his seat.