Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Miguel’s body tensed. “I hate the way you speak to people. To me. Like everyone’s a piece of meat. I don’t understand what you like about being used.”
Nero imagined hearing this deep voice in bed with the lights off, and a shiver went down his spine, because at this point he knew Miguel, and believed he’d be as methodical and thoughtful between the sheets as he was at any other time. But Miguel also understood very little about Nero’s sex life and who used whom behind closed doors.
With a smile stretching his mouth, Nero leaned close enough to smell the vodka on Miguel’s skin. “I feel alive with a cock in my mouth. And when a man rides me, it’s a fuck-you to everyone who ever tried to tell me how to live my life and how to be a man. There’s this spot inside me, and when it’s poked with a dick, it drives me crazy, Miguel. Nothing else matters when I’m pinned down. I hope that’s how I die. In ecstasy and pain.”
Miguel swallowed loudly enough for Nero to hear. A straight man would have already laughed it off, told Nero that he got it but that he could never. But Miguel turned his head to glance at Nero over his shoulder.
His mouth was a tense line, but his eyes glistened in the darkness like the wings of a beetle. “You really like being fucked…” he half-asked, half said as if he only now realized Nero hadn’t been pretending for laughs.
Nero could sit in Miguel’s lap right now and show him how much he liked a cock up his ass. He would lube himself up, making a show out of it so that the elusive dick hiding in Miguel’s pants got rock-hard. And then he’d take it in and ride, ride, ride, until Miguel’s cum filled him with its heat.
With Miguel, he’d want to do it without rubbers, too, because what could a guy as chaste as him pass on in that deliciously hot seed?
Nero moved his hand along Miguel’s bicep, feeling it break out in goosebumps. His touch hadn’t been rejected yet, so he held Miguel’s gaze in the warmth of the abandoned building where blocked windows hid them from prying eyes.
“Yeah. I crave it every day.”
Miguel opened his mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out and he continued staring at Nero as if he were covered in stiffening concrete and couldn’t break out.
He was tension on two legs, and the idea of breaking him open to finally give this man the relief he needed twisted Nero’s mind until it was capable of following only one track. What would Miguel even look like relaxed? Nero had no idea and was dying to find out.
With him, he might just go with the flow and let him explore instead of giving orders. If only he could find a way to widen the crack in Miguel’s hard shell.
“The invitation’s open. And you might not believe me, but I can be discreet,” Nero whispered, squeezing that hard arm. He’d lick this man up and down given half the chance.
Miguel didn’t speak, but one of the bigger cuts on him opened again, prompting Nero to press the top to the wound. Miguel took a deep breath, as if he were ready to speak. Perhaps he was about to admit that he liked men, but then Nero’s phone vibrated with the annoying ringtone he’d set for his father.
“Fuck,” hissed Nero, squeezing Miguel’s bicep, but Father never called about trivial things, and in fact contacted Nero as rarely as possible, so he let go and faced away from Miguel, picking up the call. “Yes?”
“I have an urgent job for you. Something fell through and I need you to pick up the pieces. Choose one man to go with you, no more. It shouldn’t be hard, but requires discretion. No fuckups.”
Neither of them bothered to greet the other anymore, and the flat, somewhat raspy tone in the receiver felt like the voice of a stranger.
“Will you send me the details, or do you plan to tell me now?”
“Details will come tomorrow. I just need to know you’re not getting drunk on some yacht off the coast or doing whatever it is that you like doing.” Father’s voice became harsher, but Nero liked getting under his skin.
“I was getting boned, but you know I pick up your calls regardless of the situation.”
He could almost hear Father gritting his teeth. “Be there tomorrow,” he said and hung up. He hadn’t specified where there was, but such mundane information would be part of the intel package Nero would receive by morning.
Exhaling, Nero pushed the phone into his pocket, sinking the interior in near-perfect darkness. All he could hear beyond the white noise of the city was Miguel’s breathing. He turned and reached for the dark figure standing by the chair. His heart sped up when he touched warm flesh.