he sat back up and ran his hands down my arms and to my bound hands. “So pretty, baby. Been dreaming of this.”
Then he worked one hand beneath my hips, popped the button on my jeans, and pulled the zipper down slowly, working carefully to avoid touching my hard cock. Fuck. He was really going to take his time. I raised my hips enough for Dante to slide the jeans down to my thighs, and then all the way off.
I’d worn simple white briefs, but they were a little smaller than other pairs I owned, and they stretched across my ass enough, making them a little transparent.
“Gorgeous,” he murmured.
He carded one hand through my hair, and then began to systematically work his hands down my back. He started at my nape, using his thumbs to ease the tension from my muscles, and then ran his hands over my shoulder, triceps, lats, forearms, fingers. I shivered with anticipation as his hands neared my ass, but he bypassed it completely.
I huffed.
His hands stilled. “Something to say?”
I swallowed. The last thing I wanted was for Dante to stop touching me. “No, sir.”
“Thought so.” He ran his hands up my thighs, squeezing just hard enough that the massage sent warm pleasure running all the way into my bones. His hands slid up, then down, then back up, until they settled just beneath the curve of my ass.
Then he hooked his fingers into the waistband of my briefs and tugged them off unceremoniously. He settled his hands back on my thighs, and then pushed my legs a little wider apart.
I gasped into the pillow. His massage had relaxed me so much, but having him adjust my legs like that—like a promise—sent a new bolt of hot arousal into my groin. And I felt deliciously, terrifyingly exposed. Dante had pushed my legs apart because he wanted to see me. Look at me. Every part of me. See me the way no one else had.
My cheeks burned—but it also felt amazing to be at the center of his attention like this.
He palmed my ass cheeks hard and spread them. “Feels good? What’s your color, baby?”
I swallowed hard—it took a moment to get my brain online enough to respond. “Green, green, please, Dante, touch me.”
I don’t know what I was expecting. Cold lube? The dry touch of his finger? Another cute comment that’d make my cheeks flush deeper?
I certainly wasn’t expecting to feel his fucking mouth.
He dragged the flat of his tongue over me, all the way from my balls to my tailbone, hard wet warm pressure that made me gasp and jerk against the mattress. Then he followed that with slow, hard licks, right over my hole, and I thrashed, my bound hands jerking so hard they knocked against the crown of his head.
It was good. Insanely good. Overwhelmingly good. Good like nothing I’d ever felt before—not like touching myself, or kissing, or even a blowjob. It sent sparks rattling up my spine to the top of my head; it made me dizzy with desire. I couldn’t believe he was doing this for me. Couldn’t believe he wanted to.
Dante captured my wrists in one hand and pressed them down into my lower back. “Stop moving.”
With some effort, I did. Dante eased up on his efforts to make it a little easier on me, running his tongue gently over me until I was gasping against the sheets, boneless and loopy with how good it felt.
He punctuated it with a sharp little bite on my ass cheek, which he followed with a kiss. “Keep still.”
“Yes, sir,” I murmured, and my voice was slurred even to my own ears. I felt like I was moving through molasses, like time had slowed down and all that existed was this bed and Dante’s hands on me. Even my own arousal felt distant, like it didn’t matter until I had Dante inside me.
He dragged one finger, slick with lube, over my entrance.
“Please,” I said.
“Good boy.” Slowly, slowly, he pressed inside me.
And oh, it felt—
New. Different. And so very not enough. The stretch was good, a hint of pain, but already I wanted more. I wanted him to work me open a little roughly. I wanted to feel it tomorrow.
Like he could read my mind, it wasn’t much longer before he was pressing another finger against me and slipping it inside. Two was a lot more—it made me gasp and press my hips back.
“Does it hurt, baby?” Dante asked. He leaned down to drop