2. Dante #2
His hands slid lower until they reached my hips. Most people who bought my time wanted to be serviced without reciprocation. They wanted the power of taking without giving. It was refreshing to have someone consider my pleasure worth the effort.
His hand wrapped around my base with a hesitant grip that betrayed how little sexual experience he had.
I leaned into his touch. “I’m not fragile.” Not anymore. Salvatore had made sure of that.
Taking the hint, he tightened his grip and quickened his pace. His touch was clumsy but eager, his eyes fixed on my face to gauge my reaction. Water cascaded down between us, making his palm slide smoothly along my length. Each stroke grew more confident.
I kissed his neck, thrusting into his grip. The urge to bend him over against the marble wall and take him overwhelmed me. When my fingers slipped between his cheeks to brush his entrance, he jerked away.
I stopped moving. “No?”
He shook his head, even as he continued stroking me. “I’m not ready for that,” he admitted, his voice quiet but firm.
That was better than a flat refusal. I would cross that boundary eventually, but not in the brothel under Salvatore’s cameras.
“Maybe next time.” I retreated, moving my hands back to his hips.
“Next time?” His voice cracked with shock.
I silenced him with a brutal kiss. His hand moved faster, his wrist twisting on the upstroke in a way that earned a genuine moan.
He pressed his thumb below the head on each upstroke, a natural instinct that told me he at least had plenty of experience pleasuring himself, even if he’d never touched another man.
It pushed me over the edge, and I came with a harsh groan, marking his stomach and hand with my cum. It wasn’t as satisfying as filling him would have been, but seeing him painted with my release stirred something primitive in me.
We stood in the water as he washed off his stomach. He gestured between us. “This doesn’t bother you?”
I ducked my head, keeping my voice too low for the microphones to pick up over the sound of falling water. “The only thing that bothers me is you acting like this changes anything between us.”
“But it does.”
I moved closer, bracing a hand against the wet tile next to his head. “Fine, acting like this negatively changes anything between us.” I needed him to return. His permanent absence would raise questions with real consequences for me and Raphael.
He didn’t pull away. “You don’t think it has?”
“That depends on you, doesn’t it?” I stepped back, mindful of maintaining distance for the cameras. Salvatore would analyze any genuine tenderness and weaponize it against me. He’d done it before.
Shaw struggled to form a response, so I offered an escape. “You should probably go soon.”
“But we didn’t actually finish,” Shaw said, color flooding his face.
I shut off the water. “Did you want to?”
His eyes darted to the drain. “It’s not that I don’t want to, eventually. But I always thought my first time would be with someone who loved me.”
It confirmed my suspicions he was a romantic virgin. I remained silent because I feared I couldn’t keep the mocking edge from my voice, although part of me envied his ability to still believe in such fairy tales.
“Someone who wants me for me,” he continued. “Not because they’re being paid.”
I grabbed towels for us both from the rack. “Do you regret it?”
He accepted the towel and dried himself before wrapping it around his waist. His eyebrows furrowed as he sorted through his emotions about what happened. “I don’t know. Maybe?”
“What’s your issue?” I kept my tone flat, calculating damage control. I needed him to return to shield me from Salvatore’s suspicions about us having sex outside the brothel.
He shrugged. “Dan—”
I crushed my mouth against his, silencing the dangerous name. His fingers tangled in my damp hair as I backed him against the wall, stirring a renewed hunger we had no time to satisfy. My next client was probably already waiting downstairs.
He grinned wryly when we parted. “Well, I guess that’s better than biting me.”
“Considering how much you keep trying to use my name, I’ll have to think of other ways to shut you up.”
“Yeah, yeah. Very funny.” He hurried out of the bathroom.
“Who said anything about funny?” I followed him out, then dropped onto the edge of the bed, remaining in my towel while he dressed. Each inch of skin that disappeared beneath the heavy fabric felt like something stolen from me.
After fastening his jeans, he shoved his hands into his pockets and hunched his shoulders. “Now what?”
A glance at the nightstand clock showed our time had almost expired. “You leave for now,” I said, softening my harsh words with a gentler tone. “But you’ll come back later.”
“Right.”
The awkward tension grated on my nerves. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” In class, completely outside of Salvatore’s territorial grip.
“Okay.” His gaze dropped to the rug.
I tilted his chin up. “It’ll be fine.” I was reassuring myself as much as him.
Ishi’s knock signaled our time had ended. I stole a final kiss before stepping away.
He looked dazed. “Good night.”
“Night.” He left without looking back.
Left alone, the quiet of the room pressed in on me. I had finally tasted Shaw after years of craving him. For the first time in years, I had taken something I truly wanted instead of accepting whatever Salvatore handed me.
But my victory ended there. Dragon still had a shift to finish.
Another client would arrive soon, expecting a performance in Salvatore’s theater of degradation.
I would endure it as I always did, retreating behind my walls and focusing on the day I’d finally burn the Gennaro empire to the ground and free my brother.
I glanced at the hidden camera in the corner. Everything in the building had a price, and Salvatore always collected. When he finally discovered Shaw’s real identity, I’d have to decide whether to protect him or sacrifice him to keep Raphael safe.
The choice should have been simple. Family first, always.
But damned if I didn’t want to find a way to keep them both safe.