I swallow and suck greedily, sloppily, fucking ravenously, starving for every last drop of his release. His moans and praise echo in my ears and temporarily smooth over the cracks inside me that will be broken again by morning.
He slips his dripping wet, softening cock out of my mouth and I lean forward, chasing it, not ready to let go of this feeling. My own cock is still throbbing for relief, but it’s a distant thought in my mind as I look up at him towering over me. There’s a flicker in his dark eyes that almost looks like affection for half a second before he bends down, bringing his mouth an inch from mine.
Is he going to kiss me? My eyelids flutter closed again and I sway forward. But no kiss comes. He makes another one of those sounds that’s almost a laugh and drags his thumb along my bottom lip, catching some of the stray cum and saliva there and shoving it back into my mouth. The taste of the leather mixed with his cum has my balls constricting again and another needy sound tightening in my throat.
“Apology accepted,” he whispers, and then he pulls away, taking his thumb, the sugary smell on his breath, and everything else with him.
My eyes snap open and I tug at the ropes binding my wrists as he tucks his spent cock away and zips up. Then, he makes his way around the kitchen, grabbing his pistol off my island and shoving it into the back of his jeans again. He pulls the maskonto his head so I can only see his eyes and slings his backpack over his shoulder.
He’s leaving?
I scramble to figure out the right words to make him stay. But that’s insane. He broke into my apartment. Of course he’s not going to stay the night. He stops in front of me one more time and looks down at me. I can only imagine what I look like, bound and so fucking horny still that I can’t even think straight, squirming to get the knots loose before he can leave.
He tugs his mask up to expose his mouth one more time, and all I can do is stare at his lips. He brings one hand to his mouth and uses his teeth to tug the glove off, then he stoops down one last time and shoves the glove into my briefs. I gasp at the feeling of the smooth, soft leather against my sensitive, desperate cock, warm from his skin as he molds it around my erection.
“There, now you can think of me once you manage to get yourself free. Go ahead and jerk off with my glove and the taste of my cum still on your lips.” He winks and my hips twitch.
And just as fast as he showed up in my apartment, he’s gone. The clomp of his boots fades as he makes his way through the living room, and then I hear the creak of the window as he closes it behind him.
I curse and struggle against the rope for a good five minutes before I manage to work the knot loose. He’s already long gone, so I don’t bother running to check. No, I do exactly what he told me to—I shove my hand down my briefs, wrap my fingers around his leather glove, and jerk myself off so frantically that my thighs tremble and a sob tightens my throat, licking my lips the whole time to chase the lingering flavor of his cum. My hips snap wildly and I fall forward to brace my free hand on the floor, humping a fucking leather glove and whining wordlessly because I don’t even have a name to call out as my balls constrict and my skin heats. Instead, I just sob loudly as I grind my cockinto the glove and fill it with rope after rope of my trembling, gasping release.
Lying on the floor with the cum-soaked leather glove down my briefs, trying to catch my breath, there’s only one question on my mind…
How can I find him again without knowing his name?
Chapter
Three
ALESSIO
I checkmy watch as the elevator creeps slowly upward. This has to be the slowest elevator in the city. Maybe Salvatore talked to the building manager and had it specifically set to a slow speed just to annoy anyone trying to visit him. I wouldn’t put it past him. I tap my foot and shove my hand into my pocket, glaring at the slowly increasing numbers, like maybe a good, hard look will convince the damn thing to hurry the hell up.
There’s no way I’m going to be at Wild in the next ten minutes for the weekly sit-down with Lorenzo and his inner circle. But fuck it, it’s fine. Being late only plays into the non-threatening, goofball persona I’ve spent years cultivating. Lorenzo will be pissy that I made them wait, and he’ll chew me out a little to make a point to everyone else, but that’ll be it.
There really wasn’t any way around it other than straight up asking Sal when he would be out of his apartment so I could come talk to his husband, Dante, alone. He’ll be at Wild already by now, sitting at our usual table with the boss, so this was my best bet.
The elevator dings and the doors slide open. I wonder if my mystery cat burglar has ever robbed any of the apartments in this building. It would be ballsy as hell, but that doesn’t seem like an issue for him. A smile makes my lips twitch, and I walk a little faster until I reach their door. I straighten my tie and then knock. For a minute, I don’t hear anything on the other side. That would be just fucking perfect if I went out of my way to be late to the meeting and Dante isn’t even home.
I’m about to turn around when the door swings open. Damn, that’s some impressive soundproofing. I’ll have to ask Sal who made the door. It’s not the fiery twink who kidnapped Salvatore last year and forced him to get married at gunpoint standing on the other side though. It’s a different feral twink instead.
Sparrow’s blond hair flops over his forehead and he cocks his head at me, a curious smile twisting on his lips as he looks me up and down. There’s something in his eyes that immediately sends my thoughts back to my intruder last night—the cold look as he stared down at me on my knees. Not that he’s looking at me like he wants me to blow him, but that defiant, overly cocky expression is eerily similar.
“Shouldn’t you be at Wild?” He arches an eyebrow at me, then looks over his shoulder to shout into the apartment before giving me a chance to respond. “Hey, Dante, you think Sal would like Alessio showing up here, sniffing around when he isn’t home?”
My stomach drops. Shit. I hadn’t thought of how it might look if Sal found out I came by here on purpose when I knew he wouldn’t be home. Just because I’ve been friends with him for years doesn’t mean he would hesitate to shoot me if he thought I had my sights set on his husband.
“Shit, no, it’s not?—”
Sparrow cuts me off with a laugh. “I’m fucking with you, man.”
Dante appears over his shoulder with a curious look on his face. He looks like an old Hollywood starlet, wearing a sheer, flowing crimson robe with feathers around the collar and wrists, and red lipstick that matches the deep shade of the fabric.
“Les? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at Wild?” I almost laugh at the exact same question being asked again, andagainI don’t get a chance to answer. “Come on in.”
I dart a glance at Sparrow and then back to Dante. I suppose it won’t make much difference if he knows too. And I already came all the way here, so I might as well make it worth my while.
I follow them inside, closing the door behind me. There are a couple of other familiar voices echoing down the short hallway, so I’m not surprised to see Anders and Orion when I step into the living room. There’s a pitcher on the table, along with four martini glasses. Orion looks slightly out of place; a gruff MMA fighter hanging out with three vicious twinks.