25. Double Delight
Chapter twenty-five
Double Delight
(Dante)
Just act cool, Dante. You’re fine . I try to talk down my racing heart as my eyes dart around the room.
“Surely they’re too young?” I whisper hurriedly at Alessio, my eyes locked on the pair of dancing brothers passing the nearly empty bottle of whiskey between them. Their matching crop tops lie discarded on the floor of the upstairs bedroom we found unlocked not too long ago.
Alessio regards the twins momentarily before returning his attention to me, shifting even closer on the mustard-colored velvet couch. “You need to work on your definition of young.” He smirks and reaches for my chin, pulling me in for a kiss, gently biting my bottom lip when he pulls away.
“They’re at least half our age, Alessio. You’re not as young as you think you are,” I retort as I playfully shove him away from me. But he just pulls me closer, trapping me in his arms, his familiar scent putting me at ease.
“Darling, they’re 32, way older than your wife. So hush now and enjoy your wedding gift,” Alessio scolds in a mock tone.
The word wife rolls around in my mind like an unfamiliar wine on my tongue. Even now, hours after the ceremony, it feels surreal. I have a wife again.
Except this is nothing like the first time.
Standing here in this extravagant room, watching the city lights twinkle beyond the windows, I can hardly believe this is my life. That I’m here. About to do…I don’t know what.
For so long, I'd convinced myself that men like me weren't destined for love—we had empires to build, enemies to watch, promises to keep.
After losing Alessio the first time, I buried myself in work, trying to figure out how to keep the family afloat after my father died. It consumed my every waking hour.
Then Elena came along—a brief flicker of light in the darkness. For a moment, I almost thought I could be happy.
When she died, when I couldn’t save her or our unborn child, I built walls so high that I thought no one would ever scale them.
For more than a decade, that worked just fine.
But then Danica came along.
She didn't scale the walls—she walked right through them like they were made of smoke.
And now I’m here, on a couch with Alessio, contemplating the virility of the half-naked twins dancing sluttily before us.
"You lucky, lucky man," Alessio murmurs like he can read my mind, his voice carrying that familiar warmth that still makes my chest tight like it did when we were three decades younger.
His eyes drift to where the twins are swaying like very limber reeds, their movements fluid and graceful. "Most wives wouldn't trust their new grooms with me, let alone with my entire crew."
One of the twins—Cieran or Jo, I still can't tell them apart—blows a playful kiss in our direction. My stomach tightens with an uncomfortable mix of attraction and uncertainty.
"I suppose not. Danica was even more excited than I was, though." We share a knowing laugh.
"Come," Alessio says, "let's join them. I'm getting thirsty." He moves with that casual grace I've always envied, sliding between the pair to grab the bottle of whiskey. He takes a big swig before offering it to me.
I accept it dutifully, letting the liquor burn away some of my hesitation.
The music from downstairs thrums through the floorboards, a steady bass line that matches my pulse.
One of the twins gravitates toward Alessio, their bodies finding a natural rhythm together.
As Ciaran-or-Jo grinds up against Alessio, he locks his wrists around the much taller Joker’s neck, pulling him in for a slow kiss that builds into something fervent.
Watching them, I stand frozen, the empty bottle dangling from my fingers. This is Alessio's world—all fluid boundaries and easy affection. Even after everything we've shared, I still feel like an outsider here, caught between who I was raised to be and who I might become.
Stop overthinking it, Dante!
The music downstairs changes, something slower now, more intimate. I sit down on the couch again, close my eyes for a moment, feeling the vibrations through my feet, trying to find my place in this strange new world.
When I open my eyes again, the remaining blond is staring at me, his smile gentle but suggestive. In his eyes, I see an irresistible invitation.
“Don’t even think about it. I don’t dance,” I inform the pretty boy as he approaches, feeling incredibly awkward, shifting on the couch as I clench my fists to hide my restless hands.
“We don’t have to dance,” the young gym-bunny whispers, reaching for my hand to drag me off the couch. I let him. Don’t push him away even as he closes the distance between us, looking up at me with those needy eyes, pouting lustfully.
Frozen, I hold my breath as I regard the shirtless figure before me, perfect, like he was sculpted by the gods.
I’m not sure what to say or even what to do.
This is not the kind of situation I’ve ever trained for.
Alessio is the only man I’ve ever done anything with.
What was this kid expecting of me?
Man, not kid, I correct myself.
He does look way younger than 32, though.
There is no denying he is fit—maintaining those muscles must take so much work.
Cieran-or-Jo takes my silence for consent and puts his hand on my chest, forging our bodies together.
His cock is hard, unmistakably so—it presses against my own, stirring the desire that’s been bubbling under my skin.
The blond notices me noticing and grins. “Hmm…You’re quite hard yourself.”
It’s a fact.
I feel like shrugging but manage to restrain myself. How am I supposed to be sexy right now? What does that even mean?
Luckily, Cieran (he only tells me later, when they leave) isn’t one for awkwardness. The beautiful boy with the shining light blue eyes leads me back to the couch, pushing me down with the slightest guidance.
“Let me dance for you then.” He doesn’t wait for an answer before starting to sway his hips provocatively, touching himself all over as he performs for me.
The movements are elegant, trained; I can’t take my eyes off him.
“Talented, aren’t they?” Alessio plonks down next to me again, his shirt unbuttoned and flailing open. He doesn’t seem to notice.
Jo joins his brother to put on a choreographed strip tease that looks like something Danica might show me on a social media video.
For a minute, I can tell the boys apart by their underwear—black for Jo, navy blue for Cieran.
I gasp.
But it’s not the strip tease that instantly makes my pulse race to dangerous levels; no, it’s Alessio sliding down my zipper and pulling out my cock, stroking it almost absentmindedly as he watches the performance.
My natural instinct is to panic. My cock is out in front of strangers!
But Alessio’s dexterous, long fingers quickly command my full attention, massaging the nervousness from my hard flesh as I feel my body relax into the couch, my shoulders slumping.
Without having to look, I reach over and return the favor, feeling my way to that familiar thick dick I know every inch of.
Suddenly, it is no longer just the twins putting on the show; they are getting a performance of their own with the Dons on the couch, moaning and touching, gasping and whispering.
Mister Blue Underwear strips fully naked first, his brother allowing him the stage before dropping his black pair to the floor as well, kicking it out of sight.
The pair of nearly identical cocks are adequately sized and uncut—more detail than that, I don’t know what to observe.
Those muscular asses, though, I am unable to take my eyes off them, fully mesmerized.
Not nearly as mesmerized as Cieran, who forgets all about dancing and returns to me with his eyes glued on my cock between Alessio’s fingers.
“Oh god, you’re so big,” he whispers as he kneels before me.
“I’m sure you’ve seen way bigger,” I try to dismiss him, but he has no intention of being dismissed.
The naked boy boldly pushes my thighs apart, leaning down to get a closer view.
Alessio winks at him. “It tastes great too.”
The blond looks at me with feral desire in his dilated eyes, virtually drooling before me. “May I?”
I look at Alessio for help, but that’s not what he’s there for; it’s my decision. He just winks at me and pulls his hand away.
“All yours,” I reply only after a brief hesitation.
I am desperate for a release. Alessio’s fault.
That, and I am curious to know how those whiskey lips would feel around my cock.
The mere thought sends a jolt down my spine. When he licks my shaft from end to tip, I gasp loudly, grabbing onto Alessio’s hand for support to keep myself from toppling over the edge.
First just the tip, then all of me, Cieran swallows me whole, gagging, and then taking more. Jesus! How can anyone take that much?
Beside me, Alessio is receiving the same gift, as Jo kneels next to his brother on the luxurious charcoal carpet.
“Aren’t they exquisite?” Alessio hums, stroking the kneeling Jo’s hair as his blond head bobs up and down on the Joker’s cock.
My only response is a mumbled grunt while I buck my hips toward the expert lips currently working me in a rhythm I’ve never experienced before.
Alessio pulls me in for a kiss, and I lose myself in his scent, his taste, devouring him in sloppy kisses as we swallow each other’s moans, gasping through mixed breaths.
I hold his face to mine, close. There is no way I can last like this, but I don’t have to.
Danica has given me a free pass for tonight, permission to come as much as I want to, whenever I want to.
She promised me that by the end of the night, I would beg for it to stop, but somehow, I couldn’t imagine that situation. Silly me.
But the night is still young.
“I’m close.” I pull away from Alessio’s lips only long enough to warn the kneeling twin.
“Give me everything,” Cieran whispers, much to my surprise, before going back down and sucking even harder, devouring my head like it was an ice cream moments from melting into the pavement on a hot summer’s day.
“I can’t hold it,” I gasp, clutching at the couch for stability that doesn’t come.
“Then don’t,” Alessio breathes in my ear, and I know I’m about to come undone. He takes my hand, holding it too tightly as we reach the pinnacle of our climaxes together, groans mixing with grunts as we let go and tumble off the edge.
Dio mio, it feels incredible!
The twins lap up every drop, drinking our cum until there’s nothing left.
When they’re done, the job completed satisfactorily, the pair join us on the couch. There’s not enough space, but Jo happily takes a spot on Alessio’s lap.
His brother forces my attention back to him, grabbing my chin to go in for a messy kiss before jumping up in search of more liquor.
I’m surprised to taste myself on Cieran’s lips, though there is clearly no reason for surprise. It’s just been so long since I tasted my orgasm from anyone except Danica or Alessio.
There is something about it that feels dirty, forbidden—even though I have full permission.
It makes my heart race and my spent cock perk up again.
I can’t wait to tell Danica about the experience.
She would be proud of me…
As much fun as this is, I instantly miss her, the feeling of something being missing burning through me like an electrical fault.
I wonder what she’s been up to.
Something vibrates next to me, and it takes my post-nut brain a few seconds to figure out it’s my phone buzzing from where it had fallen into the side of the couch.
A single message pops up on the screen when I pick it up.
From Danica.
As if almost on cue.
Seems I’m not the only one having these thoughts.
[Meet me in the lobby bathroom, husband]