Read Online Dark Soul Vol. 4 by Aleksandr Voinov - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Aleksandr Voinov
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gasped, but reached behind himself, stretched out as if he were tied to the bed. As restless as he was, actually tying him down would be the closest thing to torture, but while Stefano was all right with interrupting this for condoms and lube, he wasn’t going to stop to find some kind of rope now. Maybe next time.
He bit down harder on the nub, and noticed that the pain did absolutely nothing to deflate Silvio’s erection. He added a bite to the other side, just for balance, not at all to see Silvio squirm. “Do you like nipple clamps?”
“Yeah . . .” Silvio grinned. “Biting works, though.” He opened his legs further, glanced meaningfully at the lube, but Stefano pretended he hadn’t seen that. Later. He kissed down to the “ anima nera”
tattooed across Silvio’s chest, feeling both the beating of his heart and the short, hard breaths that tightened the muscles further down. He struggled to not be hypnotized by the pattern.
Silvio seemed way too precious now to leave him to any stranger, let alone two or four, or anybody else. If he’d been able to, he’d have washed the traces of every touch away, washed away all blood and sweat and whatever else had touched Silvio’s skin. Carved all hurt, pain, resentment, disappointment, and failure out of his soul and burned it. Still, with everything Silvio had gone through, right now the man was his, breathing like this because of how Stefano kissed him, touched him. Inviting him , nobody else, not Gianbattista Falchi, not a stranger, to open him up and fuck him.
Stefano glanced further down, but it wasn’t that weird when he kissed Silvio’s dick. Chaste, because, Goddamn, enormous step toward gay, but he kissed it again, the length, the shaft, found the thought was bigger than the action.
Silvio followed his gaze down and touched his cheek, thumb brushing his lips. It was certainly easier to suck on Silvio’s thumb than open his mouth for his cock.
Cocksucker.
How one word, one insult traded so casually could make this so difficult, even with Silvio.
Silvio grinned at him. “Yeah, that part is pretty damn gay, right?”
He gasped, though, when Stefano squeezed his balls.
“It is,” Stefano replied, moving away to kiss Silvio’s thigh. Much safer territory. He did enjoy going down on Donata—but this would need work. Huge amounts of work.
He pulled the lube closer. Kneeling on the bed, he opened the hard-won tube and squeezed some into his palm, then warmed it between his hands before he took hold of Silvio’s cock, pumping him slowly, which wasn’t that different to what he knew already.
Silvio watched him for a bit, then closed his eyes, pushing up a bit against every stroke. By the blank concentration on his face, he was enjoying himself nicely, and more when Stefano added a little twist just under the head. “D-do whatever you like,” Silvio panted. “I’m just bad with getting tied up. Need . . . to get into that . . . headspace.”
“I tied you up that first night.”
Silvio grinned. “I was in that . . . headspace.”
“I’ll remember that. How do I get you back there?”
“Trust thing,” Silvio said, thrusting harder. “Cane me, whip me, do whatever, but easy with . . . the ropes.”
The answer didn’t make any sense. How could Silvio have trusted him that first night? And why not now, weeks and months later, after everything that had happened, all the stuff they’d gone through? All the glimpses of knowledge, of maybe even understanding, seemingly hadn’t changed a thing.
He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but it was hard to be sure about anything with Silvio laid out before him, begging and needy.
Stefano swallowed dryly, thinking of Silvio stretched out and tied up.
Sexy as hell, but he himself would never allow that to be done to him, and he didn’t want to imagine why Silvio drew a line there. Was it that he was still a control freak? Was it a bad experience? He jerked Silvio harder, until Silvio shook
He bit down harder on the nub, and noticed that the pain did absolutely nothing to deflate Silvio’s erection. He added a bite to the other side, just for balance, not at all to see Silvio squirm. “Do you like nipple clamps?”
“Yeah . . .” Silvio grinned. “Biting works, though.” He opened his legs further, glanced meaningfully at the lube, but Stefano pretended he hadn’t seen that. Later. He kissed down to the “ anima nera”
tattooed across Silvio’s chest, feeling both the beating of his heart and the short, hard breaths that tightened the muscles further down. He struggled to not be hypnotized by the pattern.
Silvio seemed way too precious now to leave him to any stranger, let alone two or four, or anybody else. If he’d been able to, he’d have washed the traces of every touch away, washed away all blood and sweat and whatever else had touched Silvio’s skin. Carved all hurt, pain, resentment, disappointment, and failure out of his soul and burned it. Still, with everything Silvio had gone through, right now the man was his, breathing like this because of how Stefano kissed him, touched him. Inviting him , nobody else, not Gianbattista Falchi, not a stranger, to open him up and fuck him.
Stefano glanced further down, but it wasn’t that weird when he kissed Silvio’s dick. Chaste, because, Goddamn, enormous step toward gay, but he kissed it again, the length, the shaft, found the thought was bigger than the action.
Silvio followed his gaze down and touched his cheek, thumb brushing his lips. It was certainly easier to suck on Silvio’s thumb than open his mouth for his cock.
Cocksucker.
How one word, one insult traded so casually could make this so difficult, even with Silvio.
Silvio grinned at him. “Yeah, that part is pretty damn gay, right?”
He gasped, though, when Stefano squeezed his balls.
“It is,” Stefano replied, moving away to kiss Silvio’s thigh. Much safer territory. He did enjoy going down on Donata—but this would need work. Huge amounts of work.
He pulled the lube closer. Kneeling on the bed, he opened the hard-won tube and squeezed some into his palm, then warmed it between his hands before he took hold of Silvio’s cock, pumping him slowly, which wasn’t that different to what he knew already.
Silvio watched him for a bit, then closed his eyes, pushing up a bit against every stroke. By the blank concentration on his face, he was enjoying himself nicely, and more when Stefano added a little twist just under the head. “D-do whatever you like,” Silvio panted. “I’m just bad with getting tied up. Need . . . to get into that . . . headspace.”
“I tied you up that first night.”
Silvio grinned. “I was in that . . . headspace.”
“I’ll remember that. How do I get you back there?”
“Trust thing,” Silvio said, thrusting harder. “Cane me, whip me, do whatever, but easy with . . . the ropes.”
The answer didn’t make any sense. How could Silvio have trusted him that first night? And why not now, weeks and months later, after everything that had happened, all the stuff they’d gone through? All the glimpses of knowledge, of maybe even understanding, seemingly hadn’t changed a thing.
He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but it was hard to be sure about anything with Silvio laid out before him, begging and needy.
Stefano swallowed dryly, thinking of Silvio stretched out and tied up.
Sexy as hell, but he himself would never allow that to be done to him, and he didn’t want to imagine why Silvio drew a line there. Was it that he was still a control freak? Was it a bad experience? He jerked Silvio harder, until Silvio shook
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