Page 170 of The Rival's Obsession
I start fucking him with my fingers, slow and deliberate, scissoring him open with the ease of someone who knows this body like a prayer. My mouth finds his again, swallowing every gasp as I work him.
“You’re such a good boy,” I rasp against his lips. “So needy. So fucking filthy. Letting me use your body like this.”
“Yours,” he moans. “I’m yours.”
“Damn right, you are.”
I angle my fingers deeper, grinding into that perfect spot inside him until he jerks—hips stuttering, cock leaking again.
“That’s it,” I whisper. “You feel that? That’s where I’m gonna fuck you next. Gonna drive into that spot over and over until you forget your own fucking name.”
He’s trembling—every muscle tight, every breath ragged.
“You’re gonna come for me again,” I tell him. “Gonna let me finger-fuck your tight little hole while you make a mess all over yourself again, just like a good little whore.”
“Please,” he gasps. “Please, Dante—don’t stop—fuck?—”
I don’t.
I keep my fingers deep, thrusting hard now, relentless. I kiss him as he shatters—his body going stiff, then trembling as he comes again, untouched, crying out into my mouth like he’s never come so hard in his life.
And maybe he hasn’t.
Because I don’t just fuck his body.
I break it.
I worship it.
And I make sure he knows it’s mine.
Idon’t know how it’s possible, but after coming twice—once on my own fucking face—I’m still greedy for more.
And judging by the look in Dante’s eyes, he’s just getting started with me.
The second orgasm still pulses through my body in warm, flickering waves. My limbs are slack, my brain hazy. It should be enough. It would be enough—if it were anyone else.
But this is Dante.
And Dante doesn’t just give me pleasure. He rebuilds me with it.
He gives me a few seconds—just long enough to tear his shirt over his head and slide his pants down his thighs, his body carved from muscles and worship. His cock is hard, slick at the tip, thick and perfect.
God, I’m the luckiest bastard alive.
Still kneeling, still back on his heels, Dante waits for me—his presence steady and open. I lift myself, legs spread to either sideof him, and lean in to lick a path up his chest. His skin is salty and warm beneath my tongue. I take one of his nipples into my mouth, sucking gently, then harder, teasing him with my teeth.
He groans, low and deep, letting his head tip back as his hands thread through my hair.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “That feels amazing.”
I grin against his skin, greedy for more—but he only lets me have my way for a heartbeat before I feel the press of his slick hand on my hip, the shift of his other hand out of sight.
He was buying time. Lubing his cock while I distracted myself with worship.
And fuck, that’s hot.
He wipes his hand on his discarded shirt, then grabs my wrist and pulls me to him. His palm curls around my thigh, guiding me forward.
