Page 245 of Alessio

He wasn’t going to pretend like he didn’t like the sound of that because he did. Probably a little too much for it to be healthy, but now wasn’t the time. Even if his cock, perking to life under the towel around his waist, had an entirely different idea.

“More rules, then?” Corrado asked.

“We’ll work on that,” Alessio replied huskily.

“All right. Where do we go from here?”

“Forward.”

Alessio’s fingertips dragged along the line of Corrado’s stomach, then curled into the line of the towel to pull it away at the same time his other hand came up to circle around his throat. The kiss that came after, as the towel was dropped to the floor, reminded him exactly why he was here doing this in the first place.

The war of it.

The fight in it.

There was passion there, stoked by pride and words unsaid, emboldened by a touch that made him feel like a live wire, and strengthened by a man who was willing to cut his own heart out and hand it over if it meant keeping what he wanted.

Corrado knew that too well.

Here he was, doing the same.

Even if it was for different reasons.

He’d keep Les.

He needed to.

It just had to be this way.

Alessio’s hand grabbed the back of Corrado’s neck, and he dragged him down closer to the floor even as he continued kissing him. He was lost in the roughness, too lost to understand that Alessio had grabbed a small bag from within his backpack on the floor until he threw it across the room.

The small bag hit the top of the bed.

That didn’t matter, either.

Not really.

What mattered was the palm hitting flat to his chest, pushing him back while the hand at the back of his neck kept him right there, connected to that kiss until he felt like all he could taste and breathe was Alessio. It was only after his back had hit the bed, when Alessio had crawled on top of him, that Corrado realized this was different.

Up until this point in their fucking and moments, it had always been him that felt in control—the one making the demands. And this was not the same. Not when it was Alessio’s rough movements and kiss that had Corrado arching up to get more when the man dared to pull away.

Because now he was fucking desperate.

Now he wanted this.

Soft sheets slid against his back, Corrado found Alessio watching him as he reached for that bag. It seemed that’s what he wanted, to watch Corrado as he took him—as he was given what he wanted.

And he did.

Watched him as he sheathed the thick length of his dick in latex. Watched him as cold lube and deft fingers stretched him open while Alessio’s mouth worked his cock until he felt like he was going to come from that alone. Watched him when he was ready to beg to come when Alessio started working the head of his cock against Corrado’s ass.

Never had he let a man take him.

Until now.

That ache was deep—the pain sharp even as something dark and fucking amazing started licking at his nerve endings. Still, it was slow. Too fucking slow, maybe. It felt like that heightened the pain, but also sharpened the pleasure trailing right behind. Enough to make him want to stop, though that teasing promise of more kept him right there, lost in that place.

And still, Alessio watched him.