Someone cleared their throat awkwardly, and Raffaele reluctantly broke the kiss. Except Nate didn’t let him, his lips clinging to Raffaele’s and sucking on his tongue in a way that nearly made him come in his pants like a green boy. Fuck, this was getting out of hand. A mere kiss shouldn’t do this to him, regardless of the Ferrara libido. No matter how many times Nate sucked his cock, Raffaele wanted more.
Maybe he should just fuck the guy. Push him under him, spread his legs, and take him.
The thought was ridiculously appealing, even though he’d never even entertained fucking another man.
Raffaele broke the kiss, ignoring the whimper Nate let out, and glanced around. The Nabokov chit was gone. He looked back at Nate and studied his flushed face.
“I’m going to fuck you,” he stated.
Nate’s glassy eyes widened. “Fuck off,” he said hoarsely, licking his red, swollen, pretty lips.
Raffaele had to kiss them again.
He felt a rush of vicious satisfaction when Nate immediately opened his mouth for his tongue, his hands clutching at Raffaele’s shirt.
When they broke the kiss again to get some air into their lungs, he said against Nate’s mouth, “It’s going to happen. I always get what I want.”
Nate huffed. “Not this time,” he said. “Do you even hear yourself? We’re both straight.”
“So what?” Raffaele said, nipping on his bottom lip. “How is that different from sucking my cock?”
“It’s easy for you to say,” Nate said with a chuckle, his lips trembling, his hand gripping Raffaele’s shirt tightly. “Stop that. Stop kissing me. No one’s here.”
Raffaele forced his heavy-lidded eyes open and stared at his assistant from a few inches away. Nate’s eyes were closed, his cheeks flushed pink and his mouth red and shiny from his kisses.
He wanted to fuck him.
He had to fuck him. He didn’t give a shit that Nate was a man too. He wanted to shove Nate under him and rut into him, take him like an animal would take a fertile bitch.
“Come on,” he said hoarsely, not even recognizing his own voice.
Grabbing Nate’s wrist, he pulled him toward their room.
Nate let him.
Chapter 19
Nate had no idea what was going on anymore. His head was spinning, it felt like his mind was filled with cotton, and his limbs felt heavy and not like his own. His traitorous hands were clutching at Ferrara’s shoulders, pulling him closer, tighter, his boss’s weight heavy on top of him. He could barely breathe, just gasping into Ferrara’s mouth and sucking on his tongue.
God, he hated these kisses; he could feel his IQ dropping with every passing minute, all his thoughts focused on how good it felt. He wasn’t even sure how he had ended up naked, but the next thing he knew, he was lying naked on their bed under his equally naked boss.
Fuck, he had to stop this. Why were they even doing this? They were straight. No no one was watching them here, so they couldn’t even pretend it was for appearances’ sake.
“Wait,” Nate managed breathlessly as Ferrara sucked bruises into his neck. “I’m serious, I’m not gay.”
“Neither am I,” Ferrara said with a scoff, his large hands spreading Nate’s thighs wide.
Nate flushed, weirded out by the unusual position he was in. His legs were spread wide. As if he were a woman. God, why did the thought make his cock even harder? This was fucked up.
“I don’t even like you,” Nate tried again. “I loathe you.”
“You don’t have to like me to have sex with me.” Ferrara’s hand wrapped around Nate’s erection.
Nate nearly came on the spot. Christ, his boss’s hand was on his cock. Stroking it. This couldn’t possibly be happening.
“I’m not gay, I don’t take it up the ass. Sucking your cock is one thing, but this is too much.”
A slick finger probed against his asshole. Where had he even gotten lube? Had the bastard planned this? The thought was infuriating.
“Relax.”
Nate glared up at him, but he suspected his glare wasn’t very effective when they both were naked and his cock was so hard it was already leaking.
“Relax,” his boss ordered, his tone harder.
It actually worked—his body had been trained into obeying this man’s commands.
The slick finger slipped inside him.
Fuck.
He had his boss’s finger in his asshole.
“It feels strange,” Nate complained. “I told you I wouldn’t like it.”
Ferrara gave him a hard look, his dark brows furrowed in concentration. “There’s supposed to be a—”
Nate jerked as Ferrara crooked his finger, brushing something inside him.
“Your prostate,” Ferrara finished, rubbing the same spot.
Nate’s mouth fell open in a silent moan, his eyes going wide.
Ferrara looked smug, the asshole. “Still don’t like it?” he said, slipping another finger into him.
“Shut up,” Nate hissed, painfully aware of how unconvincing that sounded. Fuck, why did it feel so good? It still felt weird, but good, in a weird way.