CHAPTER 67 – ANTONIO
I’m straddling Caspian, kissing him with volcano-erupting intensity.
“You must be at least a little bit jealous,” I insist breathlessly the second he lets me go.
“Not really. Take off your shirt.”
The tone makes my stomach drop in the best possible way. I obey, tossing the shirt to the floor.
“You can’t deny Luca is very good-looking.”
There’s a pause. I bite my lip, unsure if I went too far. Caspian’s hands settle on my hips. He gives me a thoughtful look.
“You’re right. I can’t deny that.”
I tense . “You think he’s good-looking?” I ask too fast.
“I think,” he replies, keeping me where he wants me, “that you’re trying very hard to make me jealous.”
Heat rushes through me. I try to pull away, but he holds me firmly in his lap.
I stare at him, eyes burning.
“That’s not it,” I argue. “I can’t believe you’re lusting after him.”
“You’re the one who brought Luca into my bed,” he says mildly. “Boxers.”
Shivering, I push them down, toss them to the floor, and climb back to his lap like I belong there. I’d better belong there. Permanently.
He kisses me, slow enough to make my head spin.
“You were supposed to be jealous,” I gasp against his mouth. “Not emotionally on your honeymoon.”
A breath of laughter ghosts across my lips. His hand closes around my cock.
“If you really want to know, I don’t remember what he looks like.”
My heart soars. “But are you jealous?” I whisper, still chasing it.
“No.” His hand moves confidently, without any hurry. “Because I know you’re mine.”
“Yes,” I breathe, the argument leaving my body in a long, slow exhale.
“Then we’re done talking about him.”
I nod, relieved he closed that door for me.
His hand continues its slow rhythm. “Look at you—already leaking. So perfect.”
I look at myself the way he wants me to. Seeing myself through his eyes is pure heat. His grip on my cock is so firm and sure.
“I’ll make you ready for me.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Then you’re going to ride me.”
“Yes, please.”
I can feel the shift in my body. The way it yields. I look at him.
“So eager for me,” he says gently. “My good boy.”
I nod, letting my eyes close for a second.
Those words feel almost holy to me. When I’m his good boy, when I let him take the lead, I don’t have to brace for anything—no disasters coming, no threats waiting in the dark. Caspian is my constant. He sets the pace and lets me stay safe in the pleasure of knowing that I’m his to take care of.
He’s still in his boxers, hard and heavy beneath the fabric. I stare, my lips parted. He notices.
“Use your words,” he says, his thumb brushing my lips.
I blush, my fingers trailing his length. I look at him, hoping the question in my eyes is enough. It’s not.
“Can I?”
“Can you what, baby?” he asks, smiling.
I huff. He knows what I want. For a second, I consider storming out, but then I wouldn’t get him in my mouth.
I sigh. Loudly.
“Can I suck you?” I mutter.
“Your stupid highness,” I add under my breath.
He leans back, spreading his legs. A choked sound escapes me. I crawl backwards to angle myself better. First I just breathe him in, pressing my face against the bulge, until I can’t wait anymore. I lick and suck him through the fabric, enjoying the groans he makes.
“Take my boxers off,” he instructs, his voice thick with how much he wants me.
I pull them off, and my cock twitches at the sight of his. His balls look heavy and delicious. I suck one in my mouth, and he curses. Smiling happily, I let go and do the same on the other side until it’s time for my ultimate treat.
“You sound so goddamn hot,” he whispers and I realize I’m moaning. I take him deeper.
“I’m going to come if you keep going,” he groans, stroking my hair.
I don’t want to stop. I release him when he tells me to, but then I let out an involuntary hiss and close my lips around the head again.
“Sweetheart,” he says, sounding amused. “Did you just hiss at me?”
I pull back, glaring at him.
“Of course I didn’t,” I argue. “That would’ve been weird.”
He strokes my hair, a knowing smile on his lips.
“Okay. Give me the lube, baby.”
Soon, I’m sinking down on his cock. He holds my hips, helping me to control the pressure.
“I feel so full,” I gasp. “But it’s good. Better than good.”
“You’re better than good. You’re perfect.”
“Ye—yeah?”
“Yeah. My good boy. A dream-come-true.”
I lean back, slowly lifting myself up and sliding down. Caspian helps me, and for a while we’re both lost in the simple rhythm.
Then he lifts me off and flips me on my back to my favorite position. He holds my legs up and thrusts himself back in. He finds an angle that is almost unbearably perfect, and all I can do is take what he gives me. Feel his touch until we’re a blur of skin and limbs and sweat.
Pleasure is like a maze to me, but Caspian knows how to guide me to the other side. He knows the way better than I do. He knows me better than I do.