Page 102 of The Don’s Omega

“I put Beppe in charge of one of my charities. It was a children’s charity set up to help the families of my loyal soldiers who have died. Beppe stole money from that charity. He stole money from those children to feed his own. That’s why I was punishing him.”

Shock washes over his face. “He stole from a children’s charity?”

“Yes. How could I tolerate that?” I scowl. “He could have asked me for help, but instead he took from other little kids. He had to be punished.”

“I’m sorry,” Elio says softly, guilt shimmering in his green eyes. “I thought… well… you know what I thought.”

I frown. “That I’m such a monster I just enjoy abusing old cripples?”

Elio touches my face. “That wasn’t fair of me. I should have asked you about it. I shouldn’t have clammed up and given you the cold shoulder.”

“No. Obviously.” I huff.

He bites his bottom lip. “Are you mad at me now?”

“I’m not mad,” I grumble. “But I don’t like that you think I enjoy mistreating old men for no reason. I always have a reason for everything I do.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, kissing my throat. “Will you forgive me?”

I shiver at the feel of his warm lips against my skin. “Maybe.”

He laughs softly. “Come on, Marcello, tell me it’s okay. I promise never to do that again. If I see something that I don’t understand, I’ll ask about it, okay?”

“Okay,” I say grudgingly.

He slips one hand around the back of my neck. “You forgive me? You still want me as your omega?”

I look down at him, and the sight of his full, parted lips and earnest green eyes just make me want him even more. “Of course I forgive you, mio. You’re not getting away from me that easily.”

“I don’t want to get away.”

“Good, because I’m not letting you go either way,” I rumble.

“No?” Excitement sparks in his eyes. “You’d come after me? Chase me down if I left?”

“You know I would,” I say darkly. “You can’t run from me. You belong to me, Elio. You know that’s true. There’s no escaping me. It’s not an option.”

He gives a needy whine and takes my mouth hungrily. His warm, trembling tongue slips between my lips, and I groan at the sweet taste of my omega. I kiss him back, exposing my hunger, and he makes a sound that I feel all the way to the base of my cock.

Fuck, I need to get inside him. I press him back against the cool stone and the chill draws a gasp from him that I swallow down. I want to take my time with him, almost afraid my raw need will drive him away, but I can’t slow down. Not when he returns my kiss like a ravenous wolf, sucking on my tongue and groaning into my mouth.

“I missed this,” I growl, biting his bottom lip. “Missed you.”

He moans, shuddering against me. He pants as I learn him with my mouth. I nibble and suck the ridge of his collarbone, and the soft skin below his ear. I take one nipple at a time between my teeth, tugging until he cries out. I nip a sensitive spot beneath his ribs and he shivers and grips my hair.

I straighten and he’s hard against my hip. I wrap my hand around him, the water easing the way, and I stroke him slowly. The sweet scent of his slick mingles with the steam. He sighs and his forehead drops against my shoulder and his nails score half-moons into my back. I want to wear his marks. I want them to scar me. Brand me. I want his need for me written on my skin.

“Marcello,” he whispers. “Fuck me. Need you inside me. Fuck me.”

I growl softly, turning him to face the wall. His palms flat on the wet stone, his back against my chest, warm water streaming down both of us. Slick drips from his hole, and my heart hammers my ribs. I press the wide head of my cock to his entrance, and he gives a little whine of anticipation.

I press into him slowly and the aching sound he makes fills the shower. His desperate cry bounces off the glass and stone as I penetrate him. He gasps as I thrust into his body, his hole convulsing around my shaft. I groan at the tight squeeze of him, and I lock my arm around his waist because his knees give out.

His hole squeezes me so tight and hot, my eyes roll up in my head. Fuck, he’s perfect. The feel of him wrapped around me is almost too much. It’s been too long. I’m on the verge of filling him with my seed almost instantly. Clenching my teeth, I hold my orgasm at bay. It’s not easy. I want to fill him so full, my cum runs down his quivering legs. But not yet. Not yet.

I move in him with long, slow strokes. He cries out with each thrust, his clawing fingers white against the tile. The water hammers down around us and his back is slick against my chest. Each thrust is a confession: I would burn down everything I’ve built for you. You’re mine and only mine. You’re never leaving me.

He turns his head and catches my mouth over his shoulder, the angle awkward and desperate, kissing me while I’m inside him. I suck his tongue and lips, and his hand finds my hip and grips, pulling me deeper. I groan and bite his shoulder, feeling him tighten around me.