Page 104 of The Club
“That’s it, pretty whore. Now you’re remembering what this body’s for. Who do you belong to?”
He only moans, so I yank him upright. It shifts my cock in his ass, and, fuck, it feels good. My arms hook around him, holding him tight against me. My left hand curls threateningly around his throat.
Holding still inside him, I growl, “Who do you belong to?”
“You.”
I give him a nice slow thrust to reward him. He moans. His body is so damn responsive.
“And what do you want, my filthy whore?”
“You.”
I glide out and in again. I watch over his shoulder as his hard cock twitches, dripping precum.
“What a pretty cock,” I tell him. “Now put your foot on the desk so I can fuck you like you need, because I always take care of my whore.”
When he gets his foot up, opening himself for me, I hold on tight and fuck the hell out of him. He’s loose, pliable, moaning, taking it perfectly.
He’s close, so I unleash myself, rutting so hard into him that his foot is lifting off the ground. His body tightens. His moans grow louder. He wraps his hand around his cock, stroking like he can’t help himself.
It’s too much. I can’t hold back. I bite the crook of his neck and roar as I come hard in his ass. He instantly clenches on me. White ropes of cum leap from his cock, landing on my father’s desk as I strain inside him, filling him with my seed, breeding him hard as his body spasms through his own orgasm.
As the aftershocks rock through us, I hold myself inside him, hold him against me. He’s spasming lightly in the wake of his orgasm. I rest my forehead against his shoulder and let the waves pass through me.
We’re both loose and shaky as I pull out and turn him to face me. I pull him in. His arms wrap around me.
“I love you,” he murmurs against my neck.
“God, I love you too,” I rumble as I hold onto him in the center of the chaos we’ve made. Somehow, though, it looks like peace to me.
THIRTY-TWO
Rafael
I crouch naked at the foot of the bed and check the angle through my camera. The late morning light falls beautifully over Dominic’s sleeping form. He’s on his stomach with his hand under the pillow. The sheets tangle around his calves. The rest of his muscled legs are in soft light. His gorgeous, muscular ass catches the brightest part of it. There’s a shadow on his lower back, then the light strengthens across his shoulders and brushes his strong jawline.
He’s so damn beautiful.
I take a few more shots before I leave. I don’t want to wake him. He doesn’t sleep well, and the recent days have been especially rough.
I slip out of the room, quietly closing the door, and walk naked through my apartment to the living room and kitchen/bar. Usually, I make coffee first thing, but I find myself angling toward the glossy black piano. Leaving the camera behind on the coffee table, I settle on the piano bench.
I start playing a soft, melodic piece. At this distance, it shouldn’t wake Dominic.
I work through several more pieces of music. I don’t usually play this quietly, but I like it right now. There’s no rush, no need for force.
I lose myself in it so much that I don’t hear Dominic enter the kitchen. When his movement catches my eye, I look up to find him watching me as he works the espresso machine. With a smile tugging at my lips, I keep playing.
When he approaches, shirtless in his gray sweats and carrying two espressos, looking sexy as hell, I pause my playing to take the cup he offers.
He stands behind me. His hand drapes over my bare shoulder and lightly strokes my chest, touching me simply because he wants to, because he enjoys it. Arousal stirs, plumping my cock. The way his touch firms tells me he notices. But then, I am naked.
“What’s the camera for?” he asks, his voice getting husky.
“I took some pictures of you.”
“You did?” he asks in surprise. “When?”