Page 25 of Santino (The Camboy Network #4)

CHAPTER

TWENTY-THREE

HAYDEN

He only kissed you because he felt bad for you. It was a pity kiss.

You’ll never have what Noel and Bellamy have. What Rhys and Angel have. What Sebastian and Christian have.

Why would Santino want you? Why would he want a loser with a defective dick?

The voice is loud in my ear the entire way home, dismantling and destroying the spark of joy I felt when Santino kissed me. I’m not allowed to have good things. I don’t deserve to have good things—and Santino is the very best thing I’ve ever come across in my life.

Santino won’t let go of me. Not in the car. Not as he tries to unlock the door with one hand. Not when we get inside and stop in the middle of the living room.

I’m torn between wanting to burrow myself deeper into him and shoving him away. If I can’t have him, it would be better to lose him now before I get even more attached than I already am, right? It would hurt less if I choose to distance myself rather than have him ripped from my hands.

But I’m weak. I’m a coward. I’m not brave enough to let him go. And yet, I know that if I hold on too tightly, he’ll slip through my fingers anyway. Because that’s how the world works. The more I want something, the more likely I’ll lose it.

Like he did in the bathroom at the tailor shop, Santino runs his fingers over my face. My eyes flutter closed at the gentle, reverent touch. Why is he doing this? Why is he being so perfect? Why is he making it so difficult for me to step away from him?

He steps in close and presses his body against mine. Warmth spreads from my front through the rest of my body, soothing, calming, irresistible. It disassembles my resolve one piece at a time until I’m nothing more than sensations, desires, want.

When his lips touch mine, I give in to my selfishness and take whatever he’s offering. All of it. For as long as it’s available.

My hands float up to his waist as his lips part for me.

Our tongues dance and his warmth infuses all the nooks and crannies hidden deep inside me, filling me up until I’m overflowing.

It soothes all the cuts and bruises I’ve sustained over the past several months and the relief brings bittersweet tears to my eyes.

I pour everything I feel into the kiss. All of my gratitude and appreciation. All of my affection and care. Santino saw me when no one else did. He offered me comfort and safety without being asked. He is the light in my darkness, the lifeline keeping me from drowning.

Warmth pools in my groin and my dick stirs, but doesn’t harden. I’m turned on, but my body still doesn’t want to cooperate.

He drops his head back with a whimper as I lick my way down his neck, chasing that spicy cinnamon flavor.

He arches against me and his bulging erection presses against my hip.

Feeling the evidence of his arousal gives me a degree of satisfaction.

At least I know I can make him feel good.

At least I know I can bring him pleasure.

Santino takes my hand and leads me to his room where we silently undress. We’re not rushed. There’s no reason to hurry. Time stretches out before us and I want to savor and memorize every single second.

He’s already hard when he pushes his underwear down. As he straightens, he steps into the afternoon sun filtering in through the window. It lights him up from behind, making him glow like an angel sent from heaven. The air shimmers around him and he shines.

He takes my hand again and we climb onto the bed together, lying down side by side. Our heads are on one pillow, noses touching. Our arms and legs are all tangled up together. His skin is scalding hot against mine and I revel in the heat.

We kiss. Make out. Slow and lazy. Tasting every corner of the other’s mouth. Until we’re both breathless and boneless and quivering with desire.

Santino slips his hand between our bodies.

It slides down, fingers exploring until they wrap around my semi.

I grasp his wrist, knowing what he wants to do and also knowing it won’t work.

This is as hard as I’ve been able to get on my own in a while.

And I’ve only been able to get this far because of Santino.

“You don’t have to,” I murmur against his lips.

“I want to try,” he murmurs back. “But only if you’re okay with it.”

I don’t know if I’m okay with it. I just don’t want him to be disappointed when it doesn’t work. But he wants to try and I’ll never say no to Santino.

He pushes me onto my back and like he did during our video, he starts licking and kissing his way down my body. It feels good. It feels great. My dick stirs, valiantly trying to get hard, but it doesn’t.

I hiss when Santino takes me into his mouth. The heat and wetness are incredible and I want so very much for my dick to cooperate. But no matter how wonderful it feels, my cock stays stubbornly soft.

I run my fingers through his thick, lush hair, loving how silky it feels threading through my fingers. He moans when I rake my blunt nails across his scalp. The vibrations send a shudder of pleasure through me. This would be perfect if only…

Eventually, I tug on his shoulder to get his attention. His face is wet with spit, his lips red from our kisses and his very thorough blowjob.

“I’m sorry,” he says, lying down next to me again.

“Don’t be sorry. That felt really good.” I kiss his mouth, his chin, his cheeks.

“Yeah?” he asks, voice laced with concern.

“Yeah, it felt great. Exactly how it’s supposed to feel. Everything except… you know.”

He looks chagrined, like he might want to keep trying. But it’s my turn to play.

I push him onto his back and take a second to admire the sight before me. Dusky nipples topped with hard pebbles. Scattering of dark hair across his chest. A treasure trail that cuts down the middle of his flat stomach. A beautiful cock lying on his hip, already wet with pre-cum.

Gorgeous. Stunning.

I lower myself to worship him the way he worshiped me, leaving wet trails all over his body. I spend long minutes torturing each nipple until Santino’s squirming and shouting profanities loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

“Fuck, Hayden. Fuck. Christ, that feels good. Ah! Yes! Fuck!”

He nearly flies off the bed when I finally get to his cock. I tease it with the tip of my tongue, flicking that sensitive spot right under the head. I dip into his slit to taste more of his slightly bitter pre-cum. I mouth at the base of his dick, close to the spot that connects to his balls.

He smells so good. The cinnamon scent is stronger down here, darker and muskier. I breathe it in, letting it fill my senses and block out every other thought, every other voice.

Santino spreads his legs as my attention shifts toward his balls and I rearrange myself between them. My tongue bathes the loose skin of his scrotum before I take a testicle into my mouth.

“Oh fuck. Oh god, your mouth is so hot. Goddammit.” He keeps lifting his head to watch me, then dropping it back onto the pillow and throwing his arm over his eyes. And every time he does that, a tiny bubble tickles my stomach. He’s so cute. So funny and adorable.

I move on to his taint. Smooth skin interrupted by one thick seam that I lick along, nibble on. Santino’s voice rises an octave as I lave my tongue over that area, then press on it with my thumb.

He automatically lifts his legs when he senses me moving lower.

To his hole. That hallowed entrance to his body.

The muscle twitches like it’s winking at me.

Like it’s begging me to lick it, stretch it, fill it.

I wish I could. I wish I could sink myself so deep into Santino that I don’t know where I end and he begins.

At the back of my mind, the voice starts to whisper. Just incoherent pspsps that I can’t make out. I shut it down before they coalesce, diving back into Santino’s body instead.

Using just the very tip of my tongue, I tease the wrinkled skin around his hole. The muscle clenches and releases at the barely there contact. Clasping the backs of his knees, Santino lifts his hips farther off the bed. “Please, Hayden. Please. Fuck me. Please.”

The whispers get a little louder, but I push them away.

I fill my palms with the two globes of Santino’s ass and hold him in place. Then I seal my lips around his hole and spear my tongue at the tight opening. Again and again. Unrelenting. Until he relaxes enough to let me inside.

His flavor explodes on my tongue. Dark and spicy and entirely intoxicating. I shove my tongue in as far as it’ll go, searching for more. And when I can’t seem to find anymore, I add a finger to the mix.

Wet with my spit, my index finger sinks slowly into Santino’s body. I watch that spot where it disappears, where I can’t see it anymore because it’s inside Santino. I twist the finger, then curl it and listen as Santino howls.

His cursing and begging have devolved into babbling and I can’t help the smile that tugs on my lips. It feels weird in my cheeks, the muscles unaccustomed to bunching in that way. I haven’t really, truly smiled in so long, my face has forgotten how.

I add a second finger, alternating my fingers with my tongue. Santino can’t hold still under me. His squirming is quickly escalating into thrashing. More bubbles tickle my stomach.

Adding a third finger stretches him nice and wide and Santino moans his approval.

“Yes, fuck yes. Just like that. That’s perfect.”

I work my fingers around, twisting and curling them until I find that bundle of nerves hidden inside him. When I press down on it, Santino almost levitates off the bed.

“Fuck! Oh fuck. Holy fucking Christ. Do that again,” he demands.

A smile breaks across my face. I’m more than happy to oblige.