Page 133 of Alessio

Working each other to their limits.

Alessio knew what to do, and how to do it without Corrado needing to stop, or even wanting to.

“Fucking yeah.”

Alessio’s words murmured along Corrado’s shoulder as he finally worked his cock to the hilt. His hand wrapped around Corrado’s front, his fingers snaking along his length to stroke him in time with his next thrusts.

They came hard—fucking deep, fast, and brutal.

It was exactly what Corrado had needed.

He couldn’t breathe, but he didn’t think he needed to. Not when it was far better to focus on the way Alessio felt fucking him, and the ache spreading through his muscles.

From the bites and rough kisses Alessio kept peppering over his neck and shoulders. To the way he stroked him faster with his hand, tightening enough at the head of Corrado’s dick to make a moan fall between his clenched teeth. And even his fingers digging into Corrado’s hip while his hips met Corrado’s ass again and again at a pace that made it impossible to hold back the orgasm.

Not that Alessio seemed to want him to hold it back. “Come on, fucking give it over.”

Corrado did, coming fast and painting the shower wall as a thick moan followed, every part of him growing hot and tense from the relief that swept through his system. Alessio wasn’t very far behind, those pumps of his hips working faster for a moment before they stilled all together, and his hands tightened on Corrado again.

Alessio’s groan echoed.

Corrado still had trouble breathing because the pain flooded back in, so air came second. It was worse, too, taunting him for daring to forget it.

Alessio held him tighter.

Somehow, that helped.

“You good?”

Alessio nodded at Corrado’s question and took the cigarette Bene offered him next to the bright red Lambo his brother loved. “Yeah, I’m fine out here. This asshole will keep me company.”

“Nice,” Bene muttered around his own cigarette as he attempted to light it. “Papa’s waiting in the kitchen, Corrado, don’t fuck around.”

Right.

“I’m running low on time,” Alessio said as he turned to head for the mansion entrance, “I have to be on the road in twenty minutes to make my flight.”

Loneliness stabbed at Corrado’s back.

He didn’t turn around, though.

“Yeah, I got it.”

Inside the mansion, Corrado navigated the familiar halls until he stood in the kitchen entryway. It wasn’t only his father waiting. Cara sat on a stool at the island, flipping through a home décor magazine while she sipped from her tea. On the other side of the island, his father stared his way.

Gian cleared his throat. “Cara.”

Glancing up from the magazine, Cara peered at her husband, who nodded in Corrado’s direction. His mother didn’t smile at him, but in her stare, he still found love. The same as his father. That was the thing about his parents—he might fuck up, and he had, but they still loved him.

Unconditionally.

Wasn’t that love?

“Where is Marcus and Chris?” Corrado asked.

He’d thought his twin, and oldest brother would be around. Or, that’s what he had been told about this quick meeting.

Gian set his coffee down. “Chris got stuck in traffic—an accident, apparently. Marcus had to handle something else. He’ll come later, but I assume you’ll be gone by then.”