God.
Jesus fucking Christ.
So good.
Vaguely, he was aware of the man on top of him still thrusting, using him to chase his own orgasm, but he couldn’t bring himself to mind, still lost to pleasure.
Raffaele buried his face into his neck, groaned, and finally went still, shuddering as he spilled into the condom. Nate had the bizarre thought that he would have liked to know what it felt like to have him come inside him.
The thought made his spent cock twitch.
For a long moment, there was only silence as they panted together, sweaty and spent, Raffaele’s bulk on top of him heavy but not uncomfortably so, their heads on the same pillow.
Nate breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of sex, man, and aftershave, and waited for the inevitable freak out to come.
But so far, it had failed to materialize. He felt fucked out and mellow in the best sense of the word. He felt so damn wonderful—the best he’d ever felt in his life, actually.
“Well, that was a bust,” Nate said with a sigh. “I didn’t hate it.” That was the understatement of the century. He already felt embarrassingly eager for more, acutely aware of the cock still buried inside him.
Raffaele exhaled loudly and didn’t say anything, just watching Nate with his dark eyes, only a scant few inches separating their faces.
As always, his boss’s intensity made him feel strange, but Nate knew he’d feel even weirder when Raffaele shifted his gaze to something else.
Yeah, apparently he could still get so flustered over a simple look when he had the man’s cock still buried inside of him.
He clenched his ass around said cock and nearly moaned when he felt it start hardening again. Satan’s insane libido was finally good for something.
“Stop that,” Raffaele bit off and moved to pull out, but Nate whined in protest, wrapping his legs around his hips.
“Just one more time,” he said before he could stop himself. He flushed, unable to believe his own behavior—he really was acting like a cock slut.
Raffaele eyed him for a moment, his gaze so very dark and intense. “All right,” he said and moved his hips. “Just one more time.”
Nate pulled him down into a greedy kiss.
Chapter 20
The “one more time” mantra turned out to be a running theme for the next week. It was absolutely horrible, but Nate couldn’t stop. It was a good thing the majority of the guests had already left the villa, because he couldn’t seem to keep it in his pants even when they were outside the bedroom.
They fucked in the pool, with Nate gripping the edge of it as Raffaele fucked him from behind. They fucked in a lounge chair on the beach, without even bothering with lube because Nate was still slick and sloppy after morning sex and couldn’t wait to get fucked. They fucked in the library, fully clothed but for Nate’s shorts on the floor, his legs spread wide as he clutched at Raffaele’s shirt and bit his own lips to stop himself from moaning. He felt like the worst kind of cock slut, but he couldn’t get enough, insatiable. One look into his boss’s dark eyes and he was half-hard, his hands tingling with the urge to reach down and pull out Raffaele’s cock, which seemed to be always up for it. Fuck, he felt like a goddamn nympho. Or maybe Raffaele’s ridiculous libido was just catching. Either way, he couldn’t seem to stop spreading his legs for his asshole of a boss every chance he got.
Case in point: they were having dinner with Luke and Demidov, but Nate couldn’t really focus on the food, no matter how delicious it looked and tasted. His eyes kept straying to Raffaele, who was talking to Luke about soccer, of all things.
Nate tried not to stare at him blatantly, but he probably failed. His eyes trailed over the powerful muscles straining Raffaele’s black shirt, and he licked his lips, remembering how good they felt to the touch, how good they looked as they flexed when Raffaele fucked into him.
Stop that, he told himself, beyond annoyed. He could live a few hours without being fucked or thinking about being fucked. It was the first time in days that they’d bothered socializing with their hosts. Nate knew there was a reason for that—he was pretty sure Raffaele had mentioned something about a phone call he’d finally received, but it all was pretty hazy, to be honest, because they had been in the middle of sex and Nate hadn’t really given a fuck about anything but Raffaele’s mouth against his lips and his cock inside him.
Luke laughed at something Raffaele said and shook his head. “Chelsea is totally winning the Champions’ League this year, I’m sure of it. Their winger is too good. I’m sure he’ll win the Golden Boot, too.”