Page 42 of Lord of Obsession

“You are a filthy little one aren’t you?” I ask as I feel his tongue pushing against my entrance. The thought of it sliding inside me excites me and I take my eager dick in my hand and start to play.

His tongue presses harder and I feel my hole open to take it. I can feel his tongue inside me now.

“That’s right,” I growl. “Now, fuck me with it.”

And he does so, eagerly. Pushing in and back out, his tongue as hard as he can make it. He presses as deep as he can.

Fuck, I know I’m going to come so hard from this.

I can feel my orgasm beginning to build deep inside me.

I feel my cheeks parted wider and I hear his moans as he goes to work with his mouth and tongue on my hole faster and harder and with more intent.

I know I’m seconds away and I don’t want my beautiful spunk to end up waster so I spin around quickly and target his face as my orgasm tears through me relentlessly throwing out thick creamy ribbons of my spunk all across his pretty face and into his waiting mouth.

He looks shocked, momentarily- probably never had such a big load across his face, but he adjusts quickly and begins licking what he can reach and then using his fingers to reach the rest.

Of course his fingers then go to his mouth and he licks my pleasure from his fingers.

“Now isn’t that a fucking beautiful sight,” I say. And it is. He looks so fucking beautiful covered in my come.

He nods. “Your ass feels so good on my tongue,” he says as he looks up at meobediently. If only he was as obedient in every way as he is sexually. “You taste so good.”

I bet I do.

He stands up. There is still a good amount of my come on his face. I can see the eager bulge of his cock in his pants and I’m feeling generous.

I take him in my hand through his pants and begin to rub. I lean forward so my lips are at his ear.

“You hate me, but you can’t fucking resist me, can you, Valenti?” I growl into his ear. I hear his moans at my hand on his cock and I like it. “I’m the one who really fucking sees you for who you are. I’m the one who is destroying you sexually and you fucking love it. You love burying your tongue in my ass, don’t you? I haven’t showered all day, by the way. I noticed how that drives you fucking wild, doesn’t it?”

He moans louder and I feel his body tense up. “Doesn’t it?” I whisper again and I feel his dick explode in my hand. I smile to myself in satisfaction as I pull away and adjust my clothes.

The aftermath leaves us breathing hard in the rain, clothes destroyed and masksshattered. I brush wet hair from his face with something close to tenderness. "No more pretending."

His eyes hold fire despite exhaustion, despite the weight of what's passed between us. The perfect law student lies buried beneath pure Sicilian fury, submission, and acceptance. I step back, letting him put himself together, but we both know nothing will ever be the same.

Thunder fades into the distance as I retrieve my jacket. The storm moves on, leaving destruction and clarity in its wake. Rafael remains by the wall, rain washing away the last of his resistance as he watches me walk away.

The real war has only begun.

THIRTEEN

RAFAEL

The BMW's high beams cut through the night, illuminating the winding coastal road stretching ahead. I grip the steering wheel tighter, knuckles white against black leather as I battle the urge to turn around, to run back to the safety of my carefully constructed world.

But it's too late for that now. Too late to pretend I can escape the gravity well of my family, my legacy. Too late to deny the dark hunger that Dario has dragged into the light.

The ocean churns beyond the guardrail, black water reflecting a sky heavy with stars. Each mile marker blurs past, carrying me further from the city, from the ivory towers ofacademia that have sheltered me these past three years. Further from the man I've tried so hard to become.

Dario's text burns in my mind, searing themselves into my retinas. Just coordinates and a time, but the implication was clear. A challenge. A siren's song I'm powerless to resist, no matter how desperately I cling to the illusion of choice.

My phone sits silent in the cup holder, screen dark. No calls from concerned friends wondering where I am. No messages from my study group asking why I missed our session. They're probably relieved, exchanging knowing glances and whispers about the Valenti heir finally showing his true colors.

The thought shouldn't sting, but it does. A reminder of how fragile my house of cards has always been, how easily Dario has shattered the walls I've spent years building. With a few calculated moves, he's stripped me bare and forced me to confront the ugliness I've tried to bury beneath designer suits and legal jargon.

The leather steering wheel creaks beneath my hands as I take a sharp turn, the tires protesting against the asphalt. The road narrows and civilization falls away as scrubbypines and rocky cliffs dominate the landscape. My heartbeat pounds in my ears, nearly drowning out the BMW’s low growl.

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