Page 71 of Give Me What You Will

Sam’s lips tilted upward. “Make me.”

Fuck.

Frankie was on him instantly, pushing him back into the table, hand collaring his throat.

Sam hummed, grinning slyly. “You like being teased. And you like manhandling me.”

It was Frankie’s turn to shiver.

“Admit it,” Sam whispered.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“I like the fuckin’ teasing. And I like it… rough.”

Sam’s pupils dilated.

“Your turn,” he ordered. “Tell me—you cum like that with all your fuckin’ men?”

“No.”

That answer wasn’t enough.

“How many men have fucked you?” Frankie asked, a possessiveness that he couldn’t explain rearing angrily in his chest.

“Five.”

“That’s it?”

“I also fuck, Frankie…”

He growled. “How many have you fucked?”

“A few.”

“Mikey?”

“No.”

Thank fuck.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Frank?”

The beast inside his chest mewled a hungry groan, and he stared.

“I think you do. And I think you want it so much that you’ll beg for it.”

Frankie smirked, “You first.”

Sam, for the first time, laughed.

Chapter 13

Sam was ravenous. He decided he couldn’t wait for Frankie to get out of the shower, so he took a bite of his sandwich, washing it down with a sip of cold beer. Leaning forward on his marble kitchen island, he eyed the box Frankie had brought—Papi’s things. He took another bite, debating whether to open it. A part of him wanted to, and another part wanted to wait. He knew that if he opened that box, he would be immersed in his grandpa's past. And he didn’t want that. He wanted to stay right fucking here in the present, with Frankie in his shower, in his house, the feel of his hot kisses, fingers, and tongue imprinted all over his body.

And Christ, that man could eat ass. He smirked, scrubbing a hand over his face, a warm glow emanating through his soul at the feel of Frankie’s expert tongue confidently sliding inside him and…