Epilogue
LUCA
Ienter the lobby of my building and quickly get in the elevator. I wave at Ryan—Art’s new bodyguard. Even if I’m back home, Art still needs extra protection with Jack Enzino still out there.
I’ve been away in Boston for four days looking for the fucker, but that bastard slithers away like the vile snake he is every time I get closer. The fact that I disfigured his face helped. He was spotted at a plastic surgery clinic by the Kings brothers, the loan sharks we collaborate with there.
But after four days, the trail ran cold, so Marco and I decided to come back.
We left Art and Fly alone for too long—phone sex is fucking hot, but can only take you so far—plus the Kings will keep their eyes open, so there was no real reason for us to stay there.
My vendetta is still on, my inner beast won’t be satisfied until I put that bastard six feet under, but I have someone who’s waiting for me at home and there’s no inner struggle when I have to decide between the two.
I think back on this last month and how I’ve been intertwining my life with Art’s.
I go to work for the family while he has his clubs to check on periodically.
Our daily fights always end in hate-fucks.
I focus all my restlessness and anger on raw dogging that luscious ass until I have no more cum to fill him with.
The concupiscent desire I feel for him is never-ending, and after four days of hand jobs and sexy Art videos, I need the real thing.
I finally reach my condo door, quickly inserting the code in the keypad before pressing my finger.
I pass the threshold and glance at the floating new white curtains framing the French windows.
There are more than a few little touches Art has made to the place.
The green armchair and ottoman near the sofa, the large rug his dog likes to scratch his balls on, pictures of us with Marco and Fly hanging on the walls or sitting on the new sideboard.
Nacho has a bed in every fucking room, but still sleeps on my clothes.
Where the fuck he finds them is a mystery to me.
Art must give them to him—the sneaky imp.
Where is the perennial hot-blooded creature at?
Can’t see Nacho anywhere or Art—they usually both jump on me as soon as I arrive.
I don’t like this. Just like I don’t like the hint of fear crawling inside my chest. I look around.
The sight of Art’s clothes in a heap by the door is fucking familiar.
I know he does it on purpose to get punished.
I want to smirk at his kinkiness, but what if he isn’t here to get it?
What if he left again? I shouldn’t think this way since things have been going great between us.
But I can’t stop myself. The last time I came home and he wasn’t here, he got hurt and almost married someone else.
I call his name. But the living room remains silent. Fuuuck. I toss the bags on the sofa and take a few more steps inside the condo when I suddenly feel something hard poking my back. My body doesn’t turn tense. I fucking know who the crazy brat behind me is.
“Don’t move. Now take off your clothes and show me the goods, sugar pie.”
“The pie I brought is an apple one,” I say before spinning around so fast he loses his balance. I grab his stumbling ass, hauling him in my arms.
“Oomf!” His nose bumps into my shirt, but his arms and legs automatically hook around me.
“Luca!”
He has no idea what he unleashes inside me when he gives me that inviting, welcoming smile, like he’s doing right now, pulling me in, against his body, his heart.
“What’re you doing?” I look down at his face as he strokes over my pecs.
“This is my four-days-overdue ta-tas rub.”
He nuzzles my neck next, inhaling deeply. Does he also feel like he can breathe easier when we are together?
“How did you know it was me?” He pouts.
I feel silk over my palms as I squeeze his ass cheeks more firmly. He’s wearing one of my t-shirts, but I feel the outline of multiple chains under it. Fuck yes!
“You live here, the sound of your heels, your scent, and voice.” I list only four of the most obvious reasons as I fill my chest with his sunshine and apple scent.
“I gave you my best Batman voice!” he whines.
“You’re the only person who’d try something like this with me without being killed,” I growl, rolling his hips and making him moan softly as our dicks stroke against each other.
I’ve already learned every line, curve, and dip of his deliciously sexy body.
I know where all his beautiful imperfections are, a mole on his shoulder, another above his left hip, and behind his right knee; near his left nipple and just beneath his jaw are two little red birth marks—one in the shape of a star.
“I’ll fuck your holes as much as you like, how about that?”
He sinks his teeth into my neck.
“Why the fuck?” I hiss.
“I hate-love you, therefore I bite you. It’s very simple.” He licks the stinging mark.
I spin us around and shove him against the wall, loving the whimpering moan he lets out as I cage him in.
“I hate-love you, therefore I strangle you.” I wrap my hand around his neck. His eyes are already hazy with filthy desire.
His t-shirt slides a little, revealing my necklace—which he never takes off—and another thin chain that disappears in the front. Fuck, I love when he wears this kind of shit. He’s more erotic every day.
“I won’t resist. You can do whatever you want to me, baby.” He’s already breathing faster.
“I already do whatever the fuck I want with you,” I whisper on his lips. “In fact, I’ll drive my cock all the way into the deepest part of you until I reach your soul and mark it as mine.”
His horny gasp makes me smirk smugly. He loves my dirty-romantic-gangsta talk—that’s what he calls it.
I unhook his legs, and as soon as his feet touch the ground, I force him to turn around, head against the wall.
He’s slightly bent over, I stroke my hands over the backs of his legs wrapped up in light black thigh-highs—so fucking sexy.
I slap his ass, enjoying the sight of pink silk barely covering it, and I keep going up until I lift his t-shirt to grab onto his hips.
My thumbs hook under the hem of his panties, giving them a pull, the silky fabric stretches enveloping his curves so erotically, I let out a groan. Damn.
I quickly take the little bottle of warming lube out of my jacket pocket and spread his ass cheeks, moving the panties out of the way to the right. “I’m going to shoot lube straight into you.” The tingling, hot sensation will drive him insane with want.
As soon as I’m done, he starts rubbing his thighs together, clenching and unclenching his ass.
I grip his chin and turn his head to the side, nibbling at his lips, licking his ear, drawing out each caress over his chest and thighs.
Until he chases me for more, his slutty ass rubbing over my dick, and his sexy moans getting higher and higher.
“Your dick responds every time I pull on your pierced nipples.” I play with the hoop before giving it another tug, and again I feel his cock jerking against my other hand.
“Tell me what I want to hear,” I whisper commandingly near his temple as I massage his balls.
“Rail me like you’d die if you don’t slam that big cock into me,” he gasps out. “Fill me with a warm, thick load.”
So fucking hot and filthy. So obedient. I like that. I missed it.
I grab one of his hands and put his fingers into my mouth, sucking on them, making them thoroughly wet. Then I push his slick hand down the front of his panties.
“Make yourself come while I play with your titties.” His breath flutters when he slides two fingers inside his hole easily. I know he prepped it already, but seeing him fucking himself always makes me so damn horny.
I move my hand inside the front of his panties, brushing my fingertips on his hard length. “You like being pumped while being fucked?”
He nods without stopping his finger-fucking.
I chuckle wickedly as I focus only on his balls, cupping them, pulling. The squelching sounds coming from his wet hole are sexy as shit. Lube is dripping on the floor. I make him up the tempo.
“You can fit three fingers now. Is your hole that hungry?” I whisper darkly. How about his mouth? Christ, my dick wants to pound that throat and make him choke on it.
“Fuck your ass harder,” I order him between gritted teeth.
“I-I can’t. Oh God,” he breathes out, dropping his head back in pleasure.
“Yes, you can,” I deadpan, pouring some warming lube on two of my fingers. “You just like when it hurts a little.” I shove them in with his.
He’s taking five fingers up his drenched ass.
I could slide my cock right in, but I want him to drool for it, to beg and submit.
I have a feeling it will happen faster than usual.
Art is pleasuring himself with our fingers now.
He grabs my necktie and slides it between his teeth, biting on it, moaning around the fabric.
It’s a fucking sight to watch him getting it on.
“You are mine down to every last bit,” I growl into his ear as I grip his chin again and tilt his head back. “Open that mouth, let me see how deep you’ll take my dick.”
He quickly lets go of my tie and opens big.
I push my thumb in, stroking his lips and delving inside.
He rapidly sucks it all in, moaning and licking and hollowing his cheeks with such a blissful expression on his face that I can’t fucking resist anymore.
I pull our fingers out of him, ignoring his complaint, and then push his back against the wall and lift him up until his bent legs are over my shoulders.
He gasps, his fingers gripping my hair. I take a step back until I can spread his cheeks and eat his hole.
“This is one tasty ass,” I groan. The lube is apple-flavored, but I can still taste his dark essence when I spear my tongue in. His hands are now fisting my hair, and he starts riding my tongue like a good little whore.