Maybe he liked steel because of the guns. Maybe that was why Stefano’s trick had rattled him so much. Of all the things he’d put up his ass, the Desert Eagle had been a novelty. The only use for that ridiculous gun, too. Who shot with that apart from movie hit men and fucking ugly gangster rappers?
“Like that time when you put the dildo into cold water first.”
Silvio leaned back in the chair, holding that memory for a while, the cold steel breaching him after plenty of preparation . . . to be so cold and so horny at the same time would have seemed impossible.
“I didn’t get the impression that was one of your favorites.”
Gianbattista’s wistfulness hurt somewhere in Silvio’s chest. Way to distract them both from the credit card statement. Which Gianbattista would pay. He wouldn’t even feel that money.
“Getting off is my favorite.”
Gianbattista laughed again, softly. “At my age, other things are more urgent.”
“Don’t say that word.” Not young , not old , not age . Fuck you, Battista.
“What else is in that bag?”
“Clamps, a few cock rings. CBT stuff.” Silvio rustled the metal implements just for Gianbattista’s benefit.
“Did the shop assistant flirt with you?”
Silvio grinned. “He said he wouldn’t have pegged me as a sub.”
“How did he guess that?”
“Apparently, in his experience, the Doms go for the whips and canes first.” Silvio allowed himself to relax enough to switch over to the couch, regarding the tools of pleasure spread out on the coffee table.
He dropped one hand to his groin, wondering where Gianbattista’s was. “He gave me some addresses for local clubs.”
“Will you go?”
“No.” Being tied up and caned was only fun when he could be one hundred percent sure Diego was dead. But sometimes he forgot that, or it was hard to remember. Gianbattista had gotten him to trust him with his life, even after he’d learned what that meant: being defenseless in a world that birthed men like Diego. Knowing one existed meant knowing there could be others.
“Who’s going to do that for you now, Silvio?” Silvio’s skin prickled with gooseflesh. The same gentle voice Gianbattista used when hitting him, fucking him, or just making him wait and pant.
His body responded immediately, and his hackles rose. He couldn’t believe Gianbattista would do this to him.
“I don’t need it.”
But two weeks without hadn’t been easy. There were two kinds of releases in his life. Three, with the killing. Speed and sex. He couldn’t wait to take the bike out for a spin and break in the new wheels, and the other thing— “How far are you with Marino?”
“He’s treating me well. Introduced me to his wife, got me a place to live.”
“Has he touched you?”
“Since then? No. He wants to, though.” Silvio opened his belt.
“How he’s looking at me. He wants me bad.”
Gianbattista made a small sound, giving Silvio a fair idea of where his hand was. “I wonder what he wants to do to me. He’s not just gentle; there’s something fierce in him.”
“He’s a boss, he has to be decisive and strong or he couldn’t hold his position.”
“I like that.”
“I know you do.”
Silvio pulled down his zipper. “So you imagine him and me together?”
“You don’t?” Gianbattista breathed laughter in his ear. “He’s your type, and he hasn’t yet fallen at your feet, so he should be nigh-irresistible to you.”
Silvio laughed. “If he were, I’d already have had him.”
In a way, though, he had. He’d gone to Stefano to see what the man would do. If not for that goon Vince, Stefano would have woken up with his cock down Silvio’s throat; Stefano had wanted him from the first glance. After al , most “straight” men could get their heads around pounding ass, especially in the dark.
“Maybe you’re more of a stalker and hunter these days than you were . . . and have learned to delay gratification.”
“Fuck delays.” Silvio pushed
“Like that time when you put the dildo into cold water first.”
Silvio leaned back in the chair, holding that memory for a while, the cold steel breaching him after plenty of preparation . . . to be so cold and so horny at the same time would have seemed impossible.
“I didn’t get the impression that was one of your favorites.”
Gianbattista’s wistfulness hurt somewhere in Silvio’s chest. Way to distract them both from the credit card statement. Which Gianbattista would pay. He wouldn’t even feel that money.
“Getting off is my favorite.”
Gianbattista laughed again, softly. “At my age, other things are more urgent.”
“Don’t say that word.” Not young , not old , not age . Fuck you, Battista.
“What else is in that bag?”
“Clamps, a few cock rings. CBT stuff.” Silvio rustled the metal implements just for Gianbattista’s benefit.
“Did the shop assistant flirt with you?”
Silvio grinned. “He said he wouldn’t have pegged me as a sub.”
“How did he guess that?”
“Apparently, in his experience, the Doms go for the whips and canes first.” Silvio allowed himself to relax enough to switch over to the couch, regarding the tools of pleasure spread out on the coffee table.
He dropped one hand to his groin, wondering where Gianbattista’s was. “He gave me some addresses for local clubs.”
“Will you go?”
“No.” Being tied up and caned was only fun when he could be one hundred percent sure Diego was dead. But sometimes he forgot that, or it was hard to remember. Gianbattista had gotten him to trust him with his life, even after he’d learned what that meant: being defenseless in a world that birthed men like Diego. Knowing one existed meant knowing there could be others.
“Who’s going to do that for you now, Silvio?” Silvio’s skin prickled with gooseflesh. The same gentle voice Gianbattista used when hitting him, fucking him, or just making him wait and pant.
His body responded immediately, and his hackles rose. He couldn’t believe Gianbattista would do this to him.
“I don’t need it.”
But two weeks without hadn’t been easy. There were two kinds of releases in his life. Three, with the killing. Speed and sex. He couldn’t wait to take the bike out for a spin and break in the new wheels, and the other thing— “How far are you with Marino?”
“He’s treating me well. Introduced me to his wife, got me a place to live.”
“Has he touched you?”
“Since then? No. He wants to, though.” Silvio opened his belt.
“How he’s looking at me. He wants me bad.”
Gianbattista made a small sound, giving Silvio a fair idea of where his hand was. “I wonder what he wants to do to me. He’s not just gentle; there’s something fierce in him.”
“He’s a boss, he has to be decisive and strong or he couldn’t hold his position.”
“I like that.”
“I know you do.”
Silvio pulled down his zipper. “So you imagine him and me together?”
“You don’t?” Gianbattista breathed laughter in his ear. “He’s your type, and he hasn’t yet fallen at your feet, so he should be nigh-irresistible to you.”
Silvio laughed. “If he were, I’d already have had him.”
In a way, though, he had. He’d gone to Stefano to see what the man would do. If not for that goon Vince, Stefano would have woken up with his cock down Silvio’s throat; Stefano had wanted him from the first glance. After al , most “straight” men could get their heads around pounding ass, especially in the dark.
“Maybe you’re more of a stalker and hunter these days than you were . . . and have learned to delay gratification.”
“Fuck delays.” Silvio pushed
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