Page 39 of The Chameleon

Matteo, sprawled out on his belly, legs spread apart.

Ass ripe for the taking.

Fuck,he wanted to sink his face in between those delicious cheeks and remind the stubborn man just how wicked his tongue really was. Hearing Matteo moan as he clung to the sheets beneath him had to be one of the sexiest moments of Ares’s life. Watching the way that Matteo arched his back, desperately begging Ares for more.

God, his dick was getting hard just thinking about that night.

Ares palmed the front of his pants, feeling even more like a dirty old perv. What else do you call a man standing in your doorway, playing with his cock, while watching you sleep?

Talk about two perfect globes on full display… just waiting…

What would Matteo do if he just snuck onto his bed and buried his face between those delicious cheeks of his?

Probably strangle you to death with his powerful thighs.

Fuck you, voice of reason.

Matteo gave a gentle stir and ground his cock into the mattress.

Ares swallowed hard.

Was Matteo dreaming of him? Dreaming of all those hot, sweaty nights where he would pound into Matteo for hours? Fuck like bunnies that couldn’t get enough of each other. Fuck like they used to… before everything went to shit, and Matteo hated his fucking guts?

God, you’re pathetic,that wicked voice grumbled from somewhere deep inside.Grow a pair of balls and stop being a pussy. We don’t beg. We don’t whine. We are strong and powerful and feared by those around us. We get what we want. We take what we want. It should be him who comes crawling back to us, begging us for our forgiveness.

Ares hated that voice. That voice was the one that controlled him nearly 80 percent of the time. He was ambitious, he was brutal, he was cruel. He was his monster.

Closing the door behind him, Ares walked back into the kitchen and continued making breakfast. He wasn’t sure what sort of mood Matteo was going to be in when he woke up, but he hoped a nice breakfast might soften it.

Ares opened the fridge and began planning the breakfast he would make. It was going to be delicious.

“You’re still here?” a groggy voice asked, startling Ares.

Breakfast was just about ready.

Ares turned off the stove and plated the last of the bacon. Perfect timing.

“Good morning to you too, sweet cheeks,” Ares greeted, glancing down at Matteo, who was wearing nothing but a pair of underwear.

“Argh! This is my fucking place, and I’ll wear whatever I want around here. You’re the uninvited little rat that broke in in the middle of the night.”

His words were venomous but lacked any sort of heat. Ares also noticed that Matteo hadn’t exactly told him to get out of his house just yet. So that had to be a good sign.

“Hey, I’m not complaining about the view. If it makes you more comfortable, I can strip down to my shorts as well.” Ares shrugged his shoulders, hoping the man would take him up on his offer. He wanted Matteo to be comfortable in his own house after all.

Matteo rolled his eyes and walked over to the cupboard to grab two mugs.

Taking that as a no, Ares continued to set the food out on the table while Matteo brought them both mugs of coffee. Another good sign.

“So, we got Spanish eggs, which are basically scrambled with salsa, bacon, and tortillas in case you want to make a wrap,” Ares explained as he took a seat at the tiny table.

The table was an improvement from the last one. It was much sturdier and probably wouldn’t break under the weight of… well, that probably wasn’t going to happen. Not with Ares anyway.

Ares shoved the memory from his mind and reached for the eggs.

He passed the bacon to Matteo and watched as the man began building his burrito. First, he added a layer of bacon as the foundation, then some eggs, followed by cheese, and topped off with a touch of salsa. Just like he used to do.

Ares smiled. The man never changed.

---