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Dante grips my waist again. “Oh, baby boy,” he whispers. “I’ll give you anything you need.”

“I want to feel. I want to f-feel something else. Not this…pain. This confusion. I need to feel you,” I say to him in a cry, and pull myself closer to him until I’m in his lap. “Please help me, Dante.”

“What do you want?” he asks me. “Do you want me to take control?”

I nod through my tears, clinging to him. I’ve never felt this way before, as though the only thing that can comfort me is this man stripping me naked and cleansing me with his body.

“Please, do whatever you want with me. Take me. I n-need you to make it better, please,” I beg him.

Dante grabs me by the hips and pulls me onto his lap more firmly before turning and pinning me down on the couch with his body.

“I’ll make it all better, baby,” he growls, and leans down. I feel his tongue lick my face, tasting my tears, and it sends a thrill through me.

“But you’re gonna feel,” he insists. “You’re gonna feel everything for me, aren’t you?”

I whimper as he pushes my thighs apart and rests between them. My cock is already hard, something I wasn’t fully aware of until this moment. My thighs quiver as Dante slides a hand up my shirt. His big, warm hand strokes my chest.

“Feel what?” I ask him.

“Everything. I want you to let it all out,” he insists. “If it’s too much, for any reason, you say ‘peaches,’ okay?”

I realize he’s giving me a safe word, something I have no personal experience with. Jokes friends have made about me being submissive to Lena cross my mind. The erotic content I’ve seen and read throughout my life suddenly makes more sense, because I’m no longer imagining it with a girl.

“Y-Yes,” I agree.

“Say it,” he demands.

“Peaches,” I confirm.

A second later Dante yanks my shirt and my sweater off over my head, leaving my torso bare to him. He dives down and kisses across my chest, his lips hot and wet. I moan, and my back arches as my pulse races.

There’s not a single ounce of fear about Dante in this moment, only the heavy emotion of almost dying and the needy, horny, frustrated feeling that aches inside me.

Dante wastes no time before licking one of my nipples. I feel something I never noticed before—a tongue piercing. The cold metal combined with the wet warmth of his tongue makes my cock twitch as he flicks his tongue along my nipple.

I gasp as he plays with it, and find myself grinding my hips up against his. I can feel that he’s hard through his jeans.

“Stop moving,” Dante rumbles against my wet nipple. “Only move when I tell you too.”

His hands hold my hips down, and I whine in frustration.

Heat takes over my entire body, flushing my thighs, my face, my neck, and my chest. My dick feels harder than it’s ever been in my entire life, and we’ve barely done anything yet.

“W-When…we kissed. After,” I start to tell him, “When I got back to my apartment, I jacked off thinking about you.” I’m not sure why I tell him this. The words just come out.

Dante groans as he takes my nipple in his teeth and pulls at it for a second. I gasp, and my hands fly up to grab at the back of his hair, tangling in it.

He lets go of my nipple and then laps at it a few times.

“Did you come for me?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly. “Did you come moaning my name?”

Everything is starting to go fuzzy. I can’t even think about being embarrassed right now.

“Y-Yes,” I admit.

Dante grabs my hands from his hair and then pins them above my head.

“How did it feel? Did you feel scared realizing you want me?” he asks, shifting so that he’s looking at my face.