1. Seven #5
That thought made his stomach churn, so he pushed it away. Once inside the bedroom, Enzo tossed him on the bed. The room was dark, but the living room provided just enough light for him to watch Enzo crawl up the bed to hover over him.
“Roll over, beautiful. It’s my turn.”
He did as he was told, grabbing one of Enzo’s silky pillows and burying his face in it, the icy fabric cooling his overheated skin.
His breath hitched as Enzo’s lips found his neck once again, settling his weight over him, letting Seven feel how hard he was.
Goosebumps erupted along his skin, breathy little sighs escaping every time Enzo bit his earlobe or traced the shell of his ear with his tongue.
“I love the way you shake and shiver every time I touch you. I bet you’re making a mess of my comforter, huh?”
Seven squeezed his eyes shut. “Sorry.”
“Sorry?” Enzo echoed. “It’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. You’re so responsive. I wonder if you’ll be this twitchy when I’m inside you. Hmm?”
“Fuck me and find out,” Seven mumbled, trying to rut against the mattress.
“Patience, brat.”
Seven wailed, wanting to kick his feet like a child having a tantrum. He’d been patient enough. He was so empty, and his stomach twisted in knots only Enzo could untangle. “Please…”
Enzo chuckled, then disappeared, only for Seven to feel his open mouth on the swell of his ass, teeth sinking in until he yelped, his lower body jerking in response.
Enzo kissed it like it was an accident, then did it again.
Then again. Each time, Seven cried out, and each time, Enzo kissed it better.
After a few minutes, Enzo gripped his cheeks tight enough to bruise, spreading him apart, and then…nothing. Seven groaned, knowing Enzo was just looking at him. “Please, don’t.”
Humiliation burned through him, but it did nothing to quell his hard-on. If anything, it only made him more desperate, his hips rutting against the comforter until Enzo bit him once more—this time just beneath the crease where his ass and thigh met.
“Ow,” Seven sobbed.
“Did I say you could hump my bed like a needy little puppy?”
“No, Daddy,” Seven said, voice barely audible. “Sorry, Daddy.”
“You don’t sound sorry,” Enzo said, almost to himself.
Seven let out a breathy moan as Enzo’s soft, wet tongue dragged across his hole.
He heard Enzo’s laugh, but couldn’t even defend himself.
The moment Enzo began to lap at his rim again, Seven started to twitch and whine just like Enzo had said.
But he couldn’t help it. His fingers dug painfully into his skin while his tongue worked him over in ways that made him feel like he had ascended somehow, like this was all a dream.
He couldn’t think, wouldn’t even know he was still breathing if he couldn’t hear himself panting like a dog. He could feel his heartbeat in his neglected cock, his vocabulary shrunken down to a sobbing string of please, yes, and more.
By the time Enzo worked his tongue past his rim, Seven was ready to offer up anything, anything at all. “Please…hnf…oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. I need you inside. Please, Daddy…please.”
“I am inside,” Enzo teased, thrusting his tongue deeper, but not nearly deep enough.
Seven gave another frustrated sob, unable to formulate any kind of rebuttal.
When Enzo’s mouth disappeared altogether, Seven actually began to cry, real tears soaking into the expensive bed sheets.
Enzo crawled up to lie beside him, rolling him over and gathering him into his arms. “Okay, baby. Okay. No more teasing.”
Seven stared up at him, dazed, as Enzo pressed his lips against his feverish skin.
The way he looked down at him flayed him open, making him feel like his insides were spilling out.
He could feel the wetness on his cheeks, but he couldn’t stop the flow of tears.
He let his eyes fall shut, gasping when Enzo’s hand pressed between his legs, slick fingers probing at his entrance.
“Spread your legs a little more for me,” Enzo murmured before his lips closed over Seven’s once more.
Seven did as he was told, letting Enzo lick into his mouth, letting him fuck his tongue inside, his whole body pulsing, his cock leaking onto his belly.
Seven whimpered as Enzo’s finger slipped inside, working in and out lazily.
After a minute, he added another, spreading them each time he pulled back, curling them whenever he slid inside, making Seven jolt like a live wire each time he glanced his prostate.
Enzo drank from his lips the whole time, swallowing every whimper, moan, and sob like he was feeding off Seven’s desperation like some kind of sexual vampire. An incubus, he thought vaguely. He gasped when Enzo pushed in with a third finger, clenching down, which only made it worse.
“You’re doing so well,” Enzo said, pulling back. “Open your eyes, brat. I want you to watch me open you up with my fingers.”
Another choked sob escaped. Why was he doing this to him? But again, he complied, gazing up at Enzo helplessly as he stared at him with a raw possessiveness that Seven was almost stupid enough to believe. He couldn’t breathe. This was all too much. It was like an iron band constricted his lungs.
When Enzo’s fingers slipped free, Seven clenched his eyes shut. He didn’t know how many minutes passed before he felt his weight blanketing him, the blunt head of his cock probing at his rim. “Tell me you still want this,” Enzo whispered against his lips.
Seven forced himself to meet his gaze. “Please…”
Enzo began to slowly press inside. Seven’s hands shot to his shoulders, clawing at him as pain cut through the haze of his desire. He gasped, his mouth falling open as he stared up at the older man.
Enzo ghosted his lips across his. “Relax. Just breathe, let me in. You’re okay.” When he pushed in another inch, Seven dug his nails in until Enzo hissed. “Just kiss me, brat. Concentrate on that.”
“Okay, Daddy,” Seven whispered, opening to Enzo once again.
He didn’t know how long they laid there, Enzo lazily rocking against him until his body—finally— relented, letting him slide all the way inside.
Even once he was fully seated inside him, Enzo didn’t quicken his pace, his tempo slow and steady, the head of his cock glancing that bundle of nerves whenever he moved, pleasure washing over Seven in waves.
Soon, it wasn’t enough. “Harder…please, Daddy.”
“Yeah?”
Seven nodded frantically. “Yes. I need it.”
Enzo sat up, hiking one of Seven’s legs up over his shoulder, withdrawing almost all the way before snapping his hips back in. They both moaned. “Fuck.”
Enzo did it again, then again, each thrust hitting Seven’s swollen prostate directly until he was almost positive he was going to come untouched. His cock was leaking onto his stomach with every roll of his hips as he babbled incoherently, promising almost anything if Enzo would just let him come.
“Look at me,” Enzo growled.
Seven pried his eyelids open, breath hitching at the state Enzo was in. He was drenched in sweat, eyes flashing, jaw clenched, his muscles flexing as he braced his hand on either side of Seven’s head, practically bending him in half.
Fuck, he was so beautiful, so powerful. Possibly the most beautiful person Seven had ever seen up close. Just seeing the desire in Enzo’s gaze had Seven hurtling towards his own release. He wanted him. Enzo wanted him. It was a heady thought, making his insides clench.
“I’m gonna come,” Seven panted. “I’m so close.”
“You’ll wait.”
“I don’t know if I can,” Seven sobbed.
“You can and you will. You can come once I fill you up.”
Seven gasped, clenching his eyes shut as his orgasm crashed into him, making him spill between them.
“Fucking hell,” Enzo groaned, hips falling off rhythm as he continued to thrust inside. It only took another moment for him to follow, grunting as he ground his hips against him like he wanted to be as deep inside him as possible.
After a minute, Enzo carefully set his leg back on the bed, slipping free of his body.
Seven watched him dazedly as he walked naked across the room, slipping off the condom and tossing it in the trash.
When had he even put that on? Seven was grateful he had.
He hadn’t even thought about it. Fuck. Enzo was hazardous to Seven’s well-being in every conceivable way.
He didn’t realize he’d dozed off until a warm, wet washcloth wiped over his belly, then between his legs. When Enzo helped him sit up, he tried to escape his grasp. “I should go home,” he mumbled, his words slurring.
“Drink,” Enzo said, forcing a Gatorade into his hands. When he almost dropped it, Enzo held it to his lips, forcing him to down at least half before he let him settle back onto the pillows. “Sleep, brat baby. You can run away in the morning.”
And he did.
He woke hours later, eyes burning, muscles aching, his ass and throat sore. The sky outside was just starting to brighten, allowing just enough light for Seven to look down at Enzo. He looked less dangerous when he was sleeping, lashes fanned out over his cheeks, all the tension gone from his face.
Seven’s heart somersaulted behind his ribs.
Fuck, he had to get out of there. Now. Before Enzo woke up and this got…
complicated. He carefully inched his way to the edge of the mattress, freezing when Enzo mumbled in his sleep, forehead creased with…
something. Once he was safely off the bed, Seven located his phone plugged in on the bedside table, using it to attempt to locate his clothes.
They weren’t hard to find.
They were neatly folded on the chair in the corner. Not the ones he wore last night, but the clothes he’d packed in his bag. There was a bright pink sticky note on top of the pile along with ibuprofen, a granola bar, and four Hershey’s kisses.
He snorted out a bitter laugh at the peculiar combination of sundries.
If you’re reading this, you’re most likely plotting to run away.
The ibuprofen is for the pain that’s probably already setting in, the granola bar is because I know you’ll skip breakfast, the chocolate is because your blood sugar might crash after last night.
There are more protein shakes and Gatorade in the fridge.
Help yourself to anything else before you leave.
You were perfect for me. Such a good boy. Study hard in school today, brat baby. Let me know if you ever wanna play again.
~D
D?
Daddy.
Fuck.
Seven rushed to put his clothes on, shoving his feet into his shoes, grabbing his backpack and stuffing his snacks into it.
He did grab a Gatorade on the way out, fighting the urge to look at the man sprawled out on the bed one last time.
He made it all the way to the sidewalk before regret kicked him in the teeth.
He’d just made a huge mistake. The biggest of his life.
He just didn’t know if it was leaving without saying goodbye, or showing up in the first place.