Chapter Seven #2
The music is a little loud, but catchy, and the club is upscale but surprisingly laid-back at the same time.
Enzino knows how to lure people in. A woman starts rubbing against me, all sultry smiles and tempting moves as I walk through the groups of people on the dance floor, but my focus is on getting my hands on a certain twink.
And as if I summoned him, I look up, and there he is, sitting at a table in the VIP area near Fly.
Why do I feel such relief at seeing him?
So fucking irritating. He’s drinking from his flute and laughing away…
at me? I want to hold his neck and squeeze.
Six minutes.
I keep the woman against me to blend in with the other people dancing.
She seems happy to shake her ass against my dick while I watch Enzino patting his dog.
He matched one of my fucking button-up shirts with the shortest jean skirt I’ve ever seen.
Why the fuck does he insist on using my clothes when I gave him his?
On his slim frame, they look huge, sliding off his shoulder, showing that pale skin.
Seeing him in them is an exercise in torture.
He’s a hurricane, relentless, uncaring of anything but himself, and tonight I’m going to punish him—hard.
He suddenly stands up and leaves the table, alone.
He descends the long stairs out of the VIP area, showing his high heels and fishnet stockings.
My half-hard cock jerks against my thigh as my eyes continue to follow him.
If I said it was because of the woman plastered against me, I’d be lying.
Although I’m enjoying having her tits pressed against my side, it’s Enzino’s sweet ass swaying in front of me as he walks away that is turning me on.
Is this a new fetish of mine, fantasizing about dominating men wearing my clothes?
I leave the woman on the dance floor to follow him.
He’s looking around…for someone? Did he arrange a meeting?
Is he trying to slip away? Too bad for him, I’m here now.
When his eyes find mine, though, he doesn’t look afraid or nervous—quite the opposite.
At first, they widen in surprise, but then he smirks at me and moves toward a door.
He types a code on the keypad on the wall and turns around to check I’m following him, before disappearing behind it.
I get there just in time to stop it from closing and follow the sounds of his high heels down the corridor and to a silver staircase.
I get a glimpse of his tight butt entering a room at the end of it.
Hand on my gun, I follow, anger and anticipation whirling inside me. I feel like a predator about to savor its prey. The door at the top is ajar. The sign on it says Office. I slowly push it open and take a step inside.
A sofa, bookshelves, a large desk, and Enzino in the middle of the room, facing me alone. The office smells like him, like juicy apples I want to bite into under the sun. How the fuck is he making me picture this?
He is nibbling his lower lip with an eager twinkle in his eyes.
“Shouldn’t the sign on the door read fuck room?” I taunt him, glancing around the office. My men already checked all his clubs and didn’t find anything of use.
He puckers his lips, pretending to think about it. “I do enjoy being manhandled and ridden…hard, but I don’t mix business and pleasure.” The tip of his tongue comes out between his teeth.
Jesus, he’s a fucking minx.
“This is actually my office, and I have to ask you to leave,” he boldly adds.
Truth or lie, I have no reason to be bothered since I’ll be the first one to destroy him in here. His lithe body succumbing to me is going to be my fucking prize. Fuck, I like that.
“That desk looks sturdy enough for a scratch-an-itch,” I say, dismissing his last statement. I take two steps forward.
“I’m more like a once-in-a-lifetime experience, kitty cat,” he retorts, sounding indignant.
“You enjoy having your ass slapped, and I bet your hole ruined too. Is that the lifetime experience you provide?” I calmly ask him.
Seeing the outrage spreading over his cheeks, mouth, and then reaching his eyes makes my dick jerk with satisfaction.
“You know nothing,” he growls…and it’s so cute. He tosses his small bag on the desk.
“I know that I ordered you to stay.” I show him what a real, menacing growly voice sounds like.
He crosses his arms and takes a step back as I move forward. “I get you didn’t find him? Mario.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “And where did you get that from?”
“The fact that you are spitting words between gritted teeth is a clear sign of unhappiness.”
“Unhappiness?” I hiss. “How about bitterness? Ire? Retribution.”
“If you want to be pedantic.”
“Those smoke signals seemed to have worked to get you out?” I sarcastically throw in his face the same ridiculous words he uttered a few hours ago.
He sniffs. “It was only fair. You went and had your dick sucked and dipped twice since you kidnapped me, and I got zilch! Oh, don’t make that face, I can still smell her on you.”
Smell? The woman on the dance floor must have bathed herself in the perfume.
“You want to get fucked that badly?” I rasp.
“Let me think about it…YES!” His fisted hands are rigid down by his sides.
You should be careful what you wish for, Enzino.
“Com’ere!” I start to pull on my tie.
“W-why?” He moves back instead, scratching his neck, eyes darting around the room. He’s nervous now? After all that temptress shit? This flimsy attempt to act all weak makes me want to hold that neck down while thrusting my cock into him.
“Get that provocative ass of yours over here!” I order. This predator/prey dynamic is fucking thrilling.
“No!” he snaps. And the feisty brat is back.
“You never do what you are told. Is it because the space between your ears has been vacant for years?” I sneer, savoring the fire in his eyes.
He flips me off. “What can I say? You turned on my li’l devil mode, baby cakes.” Another step back. He’s going exactly where I want him to as I advance.
“Devil? You are just a useless, lowly minion.”
“Vai a morire ammazzato!” His pronunciation is atrocious, but the meaning is quite clear. I return his sentiment and will make it happen if he keeps at it. It’s quite puzzling how I want to fuck him and kill him at the same time. Maybe I can fuck him to death?
“Shut up and give your ass a rest,” I spit. Now there are only three feet between us.
“My ass? You mean the one you can’t take your eyes off all day long?” The backs of his legs hit the desk behind him, and his eyes widen before narrowing at me.
My blood runs hot, and my palms start itching as I pull the tie off my neck and roll the ends around my palms. I have to will my jaw to unclench. I’ll crush that spunk in him and turn it into screams and pleas.
“You will suck my cock clean when I’m done with you.” I pull on the tie until it’s taut between my hands. I want him to feel caged, trapped, with no way out.
He snarls, eyes falling on the tie before he tilts his head back and spits on my face. “In your dreams, dickface.”
“No more endearments?” I wipe the saliva from my cheek. “You drooled over my dick for days, now you’re backing down? Such a lousy, self-serving bitch. Well, it does run in the family…” I pause for a bigger effect. “Enzino.”
He slaps me across the face, and I wrap my necktie around his wrist, pulling it behind his back, relishing in the redness spreading on his cheeks and the consequent fury showing all over him.
His other palm quickly cracks against the other side of my face, and the sting makes me chuckle with satisfaction and desire.
So damn savage with the same want reflecting in his eyes.
Who would have thought? He crooks his fingers and tries to claw at my eyes.
I grab his hand and spin him around, making him face the desk.
Then I bind his other wrist with my necktie as well.
He struggles against me, but I effortlessly keep him down with one arm.
Fuck, he smells so fucking good, as if I’m holding the warmth of the sun.
“What are you doing?” he barks while trying to kick me.
I run a hand in his hair and fist it to push his cheek onto the wooden desk. “You said you love to be pinned down and rammed, remember?”
The brat moans, but still fights me, flailing his body like a fish. Why is this making me as hard as a rock? Because he’s grinding that juicy ass against my dick on fucking purpose, raising his waist if I move back a little.
“That’s enough now,” I say hoarsely. But of course, he keeps going. As soon as I press my stiff nine inches against his ass, though, he freezes. Holy. Shit. I should have done this from the start. Having him under me, his lithe body subjugated to my will, that sassy mouth shut.
“Open your fucking legs,” I growl. Those fishnet stockings are sexy as fuck on him.
A derisive laugh comes out of his lips. “I won’t make it easy for you, honey,” he says while slowly spreading them. He’s fucking enjoying this just as much as I am and still driving me insane.
“Your grinding ass is making it very easy.” I almost groan at the feel of my pants-clad dick sliding between his ass cheeks, even more when he trembles under me. I want to nail him so damn much.
I reach for the hem of his mini skirt and push it up.
Holy fucking shit. He’s wearing the light purple garter belt with the intricate floral lace pattern that Fly made for him.
It frames his plush ass perfectly while holding up the fishnet thigh-highs.
But the open-back panties are the real dick-hardening sight.
Those and the hungry, wet asshole, clearly already prepped.
“You just crave cocks, don’t you?” I tsk.
I like my hookups soaking wet and loosened up, chasing my pounding cock. Would he do that too? I get so lost in that vision that I loosen my hold on his head enough for him to lean sideways and sink his teeth into my hand. Fucking hell, he’s like a rabid squirrel.