Page 42 of Inferno

Releasing the towel I’ve been holding around him, I grab the pajamas and unfold them, revealing a pair of Halloween-themed fleece pj’s. The top is orange with embroidered eyes and a toothy grin clearly intended to make it look like a jack-o’-lantern, and the bottoms are black and orange stripes. They’re truly hideous, but I don’t say a word as I yank the top over his wet hair, then hold the bottoms out for him to step into.

The fabric drowns him. The pajamas are at least two sizes too big, making his slim frame look positively petite and so fucking young. Once he’s fully covered, I drag him into my arms and hug him, pinning him to my chest. It takes a moment, but eventually he wraps his arms around my back, and we stand in the middle of his shitty apartment cuddling.

Neither of us speaks, and after a while the silence thickens. I want to beg him to let me take him home, to give himself over to me and let me take care of him. But I was the one who said wehad to take things slowly, and me demanding to take control of his life right now would scare him.

Why the fuck did I say we’d take things slow? If I’d claimed him the other night, he’d be in my bed, completely beneath my control right now, not wearing too-big pj’s in a crappy apartment with no hot fucking water.

“Get into bed,” I order, unable to keep the gravelly dominance out of my voice. Releasing him reluctantly, I stalk him to the bed, pull back the too-thin comforter, and crowd him as he climbs beneath the covers.

“How cold are you?” I ask, quickly stripping out of my own clothes except for my boxers and dragging him into my arms, holding him tightly against my chest.

“You’re being dramatic, I’m fine,” he says, his voice muffled against my skin.

“No more cold fucking showers, Boy. I’m serious.”

Instead of agreeing with me, he chuckles softly, the sound barely audible, although I can feel the vibration of his chest against mine.

“Go to sleep, before I stop trying to behave and take you fucking home,” I growl.

“I need to lock the door and turn off the light,” he whispers.

Huffing dramatically, I lift him off me, then stomp to the door and make sure all five of his fucking locks are secured. Flicking off the light switch, I navigate the three steps back to the bed in complete darkness, then climb back in, reaching for him and positioning him so his cheek is resting on my chest and his entire fleece-cocooned body is encased in my arms.

This isn’t at all how I hoped this night would end. But oddly, even though I’m a little disappointed that I’m not buried deep inside of him, having him curled into me, safe and warm and all fucking mine, feels pretty perfect.

It’s still early, not even ten p.m., but I fall asleep almost immediately. When Henry’s alarm starts to trill, it’s still dark outside and cold enough that I can see my breath like smoke in the chilly morning air.

Instead of being in my arms, Henry has rolled over in his sleep so his smaller body is spooned into mine, his ass nestled against my cock. My dick isn’t soft, but I’m not rock hard either, unlike Henry, whose cock is tenting his fleecy pj bottoms.

When I run my hand over his length, he moans softly in his sleep, pushing his hardness into my palm.

“Good morning, Kitten,” I rasp against his ear as he starts to stir. Slipping my hand beneath the waist of his bottoms, I fist his cock, feeling the exact moment he comes fully awake.

“Shall we take care of this?” I ask, slowly pumping my hand up and down his length.

“Anders?” he says sleepily.

“I better be the only man you’ve woken up to with his hand around your cock,” I say playfully, but the hitch in his breath makes me want to demand answers.

“You’re the first,” he says, his voice thick.

I don’t sense that he’s lying, although there’s clearly something he’s not telling me. But this isn’t the time to question him, not when his cock is weeping precum and twitching in my fist.

“You’re so hard, Kitten. Were you dreaming naughty thoughts again?” I purr.

“Yes,” he admits easily.

“About me?”

“Yes.” He nods.

“What was I doing in your dreams, Kitten?”

“You were…”

I tighten my grip on his cock, pumping slowly as his breath hitches.

“I was…” I prompt him.

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