15. Chapter 15 - Cole
M y legs are spread as Emiliano takes his pants all the way off, then his shirt, until he’s kneeling completely naked in front of me. He looks at me with hungry eyes, and they roam from my face to my spread legs. I focus on the way his tongue wets his bottom lip, and heat unfurls in my stomach. Fuck, my refractory period usually isn’t this short, but I feel like I could come one more time for him. I can be a good boy?—
“Flip over,” Emiliano says softly, and I shake my head. “Hands and knees.”
“No.” I smirk, looking into his deep brown eyes. “If you’re going to fuck me, you’re going to face me. You’re going to look into my eyes and come to terms with the fact that you want me so much, you’re willing to fuck your whole life up.”
Emiliano mutters a curse under his breath, averting his gaze. I know he feels guilty, but he’s going to have to get over it. I won’t forgive him until he does. To be honest, I shouldn’t even be doing this without having a conversation, but when he offered to suck me off, well, I’m weak, what can I say? Now I do have to make him come. Tit for tat and all that.
He faces me once more, looking right into my eyes, mouth set in a tight line. “You want me to face you?” he asks me. “You sure? Because if we do this, there’s no going back, Cole. If we do this, I’m claiming you as mine.”
I laugh loudly. “Yeah, okay, Emiliano.” I raise an eyebrow. “It’s just sex, isn’t it? It doesn’t have to be more than that. After all, I’m your biggest mistake.” I shouldn’t throw it back in his face after his apology, but he needs to know I haven’t forgiven him.
Em narrows his eyes at me, grabbing my thighs and hauling me toward him. My back burns as the rug chafes my skin, and I groan. That’s leaving a rash. He grabs the packet of lube from his wallet beside him, ripping it open with his teeth, and nothing should be that hot. Goddamn it. Why does everything he does have to turn me on? I hate that he affects me this much.
“Nothing with you is just sex, Cole,” he tells me through gritted teeth, lubing his fingers up and thrusting two into my hole. “You know there’s something between us. So show me. Show me what I’d be missing out on if I can’t have you.”
I snicker. “Oh, now you want me to show you?” Emiliano presses one of my thighs toward my chest, giving him easier access. “I thought you didn’t want me.”
“I do,” Emiliano growls, crooking his fingers inside of me and making me see stars. My vision has white dots all over it as he does it again, and then he pulls out and thrusts three fingers in. He scissors his fingers as I squirm, and I hold my other leg toward my chest, the whore that I fucking am for him. “I want you so bad I can’t see straight.”
Those words shouldn’t affect me as much as they do, but I can’t help it. This is everything I’ve ever wanted from him. So why does it feel like he’s going to change his mind come morning?
I don’t say anything.
“I know you feel it too,” Emiliano says softly, pulling his fingers out swiftly. He lubes up his cock, then presses it to my entrance unceremoniously. “You can’t deny there’s something between us.”
“There’s nothing,” I reply. “You’ve made sure of that.”
“Your body says otherwise.” Emiliano punctuates his words with one deep thrust, not bothering to go slowly for me. He doesn’t stop until he’s bottomed out, and tears sting my eyes from the burn. He’s fucking thick, and he’s not giving me time to adjust as he pulls back out all the way to the tip and snaps his hips forward brutally. “Look at your cock getting hard for me again, you fucking slut.”
I moan as he pegs my prostate, and his eyes light up like it’s Christmas morning. “Tell me you love me,” Emiliano demands. “Say it.”
“No,” I growl.
Emiliano wraps a hand around my throat tightly, uncaring that I didn’t take a breath before he did it. My lungs deplete, and my chest burns. My eyes water as my mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, and I feel myself getting dizzy. Just as my vision begins to go black, he lets go of me.
His hand meets my face in a hard slap, my head snapping to the side, and I taste blood at the corner of my lip. What the fuck? My eyes narrow to slits, but he just smirks at me as I choke on a deep breath.
Motherfucker.
“Say it, Cole.” Emiliano leans in and bites my neck roughly, then bites my pec even harder. “I have no problem with getting it out of you one way or another.”
I press my lips together so I don’t say the three little words that sit on the tip of my tongue. Because I do want to tell him, more than anything. But I can’t. He fucked up.
Emiliano pulls out, flipping me over, man-handling me before I can refuse, and he presses my face to the carpet and enters me once more. I support myself with my arms, arching my back for him so he can get a nice view of my ass, and he groans.
His hand comes to my hair, his fingers tightening in the strands, and he pulls my head back hard. My neck arches, aching in the best way, as he fucks in and out of me. With his other hand, he grips my hip tightly, and I know I’m going to bruise. But right now, I don’t care. I know he’s claiming me, and even if I won’t admit it to him, my body is in fucking heaven.
“You’re mine,” Emiliano says, snapping his hips forward, avoiding my prostate, making me angry. “I don’t care if you say you’re not.”
“Em,” I growl. “ Please . Make me come.”
“Say you’re mine.” Emiliano lets go of my hair, shoving my head forward until my cheek meets the carpet, and he drags me back until that burns too. He rakes his fingernails down my back, and I know he’s leaving marks from the sting. “Tell me.”
“I—I can’t.”
Crack .
His hand meets my ass roughly, exactly where it’s already bruising, and I shout in pain. Fuck. Yet my cock hardens even more, leaking pre-cum. “I can do this all night.”
His hand comes down on my ass again, and I whimper.
“You say you want me to be yours.” I groan as the tip of his cock grazes my prostate, not quite hitting it right. “But you don’t know what that means for you.”
Emiliano fucks me shallowly, frustrating me, but he doesn’t say a word.
“I’m possessive,” I tell him.
“So am I.”
“I won’t be a secret,” I say, looking at him over my shoulder.
His eyes are already on my face. “I wouldn’t ask that of you.”
“I’ll be your equal, or I will be nothing of yours.”
“Yes, Cole,” he breathes. “Any other requests?”
“I’ll think of something,” I breathe as he thrusts against my prostate just right. “Oh, fuck, right there .”
“Here, Cole?” he asks, hitting it again and again. “You know what I want to hear.”
“I—” My hand wraps around my cock, and I begin to stroke it furiously. “I’m yours.”
“What. Else.”
“Fuck.” I breathe as his grip tightens on my hips. He pulls me back toward his chest, making me kneel in front of him to ride his cock. He sits back as my ass meets his lap, and he thrusts into me, topping from the bottom. It feels fucking heavenly, and my spine begins to tingle as I jerk myself once more. My cock is leaking, my balls drawing up, and I begin to shake. “I love you,” I whisper, and Emiliano moans loudly.
“Yes, yes, yes ,” Em groans. “Like that. Come for me, Cole. I can’t last.”
After three more strokes, I come all over my fist and the carpet. Emiliano shoves me face first into the carpet once more, thrusting quickly and deeply, his hips snapping against my ass loudly, and he comes with a moan, flooding my ass. I can feel his cum as it leaks out, and he pulls out and stuffs it back into me.
“Mine,” he tells me with conviction. “You’re mine. This ass is mine, and so is your cock.”
I whimper.
“From now on, you’ll forget anyone existed before me.” He drapes himself over my back, panting against the shell of my ear. “And that includes my fucking son.”
“Yes,” I breathe. “You’re the only one for me.”
“I’ll be the last person to fuck this tight little hole.”
My breath whooshes out of my lungs at that statement, and my stomach swoops.
“You wanted to be mine?” he asks me, but I know it’s rhetorical. “Just know I take that very seriously. You’ll belong to me for the rest of your life, then even in fucking death.”
Fuck .
“I’m yours, baby,” I whisper, and he kisses my temple.
Emiliano gets up, goes to the bathroom, and then comes out with a wet rag. It’s warm as he presses it against my ass, cleaning me up. It’s a sweet gesture, and he seems to enjoy taking care of me after sex. And yet… I don’t know where we go from here. Do I go back to my room tonight? Am I staying here?
“Come shower,” he says, breaking me out of my thoughts, and I realize the water is already running. “Before the water gets cold.”
I nod, go to the bathroom, and get in the shower.
We make quick work of washing each other, and then Emiliano helps me dry off. I brush my teeth and use the bathroom, and then I just stand there in the middle of his room, a ship with no direction. What the hell do I do?
“Are you coming to bed?” Emiliano asks, and relief makes my shoulders sag. “What? Did you think I was letting you go tonight?”
“I don’t know what to think.”
“Get in bed, Cole.” He sighs, “I’m tired.”
I nod and get in bed next to him, and he turns off the lights with the remote on his nightstand. He snuggles closer to me, pulling me into his body, and my head meets his chest. Em sighs, and his breathing evens out, and before long, I’m closing my eyes too.
I don’t know how long I sleep for, but when the soft light of morning slips in through the blinds, I get up, careful not to rouse Emiliano. I use the bathroom and put on my boxer briefs, then open the door quietly and shut it behind me.
I’ll be honest, I wasn’t expecting last night. I thought for sure we’d fuck and he’d send me off to my room, pretending it never happened. For a moment, I wondered if any of his words and declarations were true. If claiming me was just a heat of the moment thing. But he seems to have meant it, as evidenced by the way he kept me close all night. Not letting me get too far from him at any point. Even in his sleep, he sought me out.
The sex was hot. Hotter than anything I’ve ever experienced; then again, it was like that the last time too. I thought it was a fluke, but it turns out, I just love everything about the fucker. It also didn’t escape my notice that he got those three words out of me, yet he didn’t say them back. Does it matter? Something tells me it doesn’t, that he cares. But a part of me craves those words right back.
The house is quiet as I make myself a cup of coffee, then put two sugars and creamer in it. I’m not usually a coffee drinker, but when I do, it needs to be sweet. I put the french vanilla creamer back in the fridge just as the elevator dings, and I tense, looking down at myself. I have bite marks on my body and nail marks down my back. God, I’m a fucking mess. I can’t let Matteo see me like this.
I run to my room and put a shirt on, then go back to the kitchen as if nothing ever happened. Except Matteo is already sitting at the kitchen island, taking a sip of my coffee. He makes a disgusted face, and I smirk, rounding the island until I’m facing him.
“You always did like this nasty shit.” He grimaces.
“Yeah, well, not all of us can drink it black,” I reply, going to the stool next to his and sitting on it. My ass immediately throbs, and I shift in the seat until the pressure eases. “I’m sorry,” I sigh. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I know,” Matteo says, looking into my eyes. He looks sad, defeated, and I hate it. “But you’re my friend, Cole. I don’t want to lose you. I’ll get over it.”
If he only knew what I’ve been up to with his father, we would be having a different conversation. But I can’t think of it right now. I don’t want to hurt his feelings. So waiting to tell him is probably best. “I love you, Matty. I don’t want to lose you either.”
Matteo leans in and hugs me, and I close my eyes. I hear him breathe me in, and I hug him tighter, hoping he doesn’t smell his dad on me. Fuck, I really didn’t think this through. I try to pull away, but he holds me tighter.
A throat clears from behind us, and I tense. He feels it, and he frowns as he pulls away. Emiliano looks at me like he wants to throttle me, or kill me, or both, and I look away. How am I supposed to explain to him I don’t want to give up Matteo? That he’s my best friend, and I promised him forever, too?
“Hey, son,” Emiliano says, pasting a fake smile on his face. Matty looks between us, trying to figure out what’s going on. I pray he doesn’t. “Are you here to stay?”
“Yeah,” Matteo says, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry I left. It was immature. I should’ve taken it better, but I was hurt.”
Emiliano’s eyes flash with something that looks like guilt, but he masks it quickly. I wonder if Matteo saw it, but then he gets up from the chair and goes to his dad, hugging him tightly. There’s a knot in my throat when he looks my way, his hand outstretched toward me.
“Group hug.” He grins.
I get up too and join in the hug, but instead of Emiliano’s arm wrapping around my shoulders, he wraps it around my waist and tugs me toward him. I suck in a sharp breath but hug Matteo all the same, hating this and loving it in equal measure.
This feels like a betrayal.