Pleasure shot toward Ben’s groin. He wanted that. He couldn’t believe he fucking wanted it. The training part, and the ropes. But he wasn’t Dante’s. He never would be. Ben didn’t want to belong to anyone.
Ben’s vision cleared as Dante started to jerk him off. He almost turned his neck, trying to see Dante but Dante wouldn’t want that.
“Whenever you’re ready, come for me. I want to feel it between my fingers as I work you.” Dante’s teeth bit into Ben’s neck and that’s all it took for him to explode. Semen shot out of him, pump after pump. Dante’s hand didn’t stop jerking him as Ben’s come coated his prick and Dante’s fingers.
Dante pumped harder. His thrusts changed intensity and speed. He seemed to be trying to get as deep as he could go as he filled the condom with his own seed.
He didn’t pull out of Ben right away, and Ben didn’t move either. They were connected in a way he couldn’t deny, much the way he couldn’t deny the mental connection they shared.
Dante’s thumb still moved, brushing up and down Ben’s prick, rubbing the sticky liquid there.
Ben shouldn’t talk. He wasn’t supposed to but the sex was over, which meant he couldn’t hold it back any longer. “I don’t know how not to hate you for it, either.” Which was the truth. They both hated each other for the fact that they were here. Again. For the diner last night and the phone calls, because it was something more than either of them let happen with anyone else. Something more than either of them wanted.
“I know,” Dante replied and then he let go of Ben’s softening dick.
Ben’s gut rumbled deeply and Dante cursed behind him. “You can clean up after I do, and then come into the kitchen. You need breakfast.”
Dante pulled out of him. Ben watched him walk naked to the door. What the hell was he doing here? What were either of them doing? Questions continued to slam into him, rock him like a small boat lost in the never-ending sea during a storm.
Still, when he heard Dante leave the bathroom, Ben didn’t hesitate to do what he’d been told.
CHAPTER THRITY-ONE
Ben took a quick shower before pulling on his pants from the night before. He left the rest of his clothes, scattered wherever they’d been thrown and then made his way into the kitchen.
Dante stood in front of the stove in nothing except a pair of white boxer-briefs. Ben took a second to admire his dark, taut body. His tight ass, and the black swirls and designs of ink on his back.
They were beautiful, the way they covered his skin. It was almost like they told a story though Ben had no idea how that could be possible. Some cultures used tattoos that way, Indian tribes and such but as far as he could tell, that wasn’t the case with Dante.
“What are they?” he finally asked.
Dante looked over his shoulder and Ben nodded toward Dante’s back so the man would know what he meant.
“Tattoos,” he said gruffly.
Ben let out a surprising chuckle. “Glad you cleared that up for me. Why those specifically, I mean. The designs and why over your whole back?”
“It attracts men.”
Ben laughed again at Dante’s reply.
“So, there’s a story behind it? What is it?” Ben leaned against the counter while Dante returned his attention to the food he cooked, eggs it smelled like.
“You’re pushy,” Dante replied.
“I’ve been told.” He’d shoved his way into Tristan’s life all those years ago. Ben didn’t know why he wanted the story so much but when Dante didn’t reply, he went off his gut and added, “Please.”
The other man sighed, grabbed a plate off the counter and set food on it. “Ham and cheese omelet. Sit down and eat.”
Ben took the plate but didn’t move. “It has to do with him? The man you loved?”
Another sigh from Dante before, “Eat.”
It was then that Ben got what was going on. If he wanted Dante to tell him something, he had to do something for Dante. Had to give him something in return. Was it really that important to him that Ben ate? Or was it more that it gave him a chance to wield some kind of control over Ben?
Regardless of the reasoning, Ben nodded at him, walked over to the small table and sat. When he took the first bite of his food, Dante replied, “Yes.”
The omelet practically melted in Ben’s mouth it was so good. Quickly, he cut another piece and took a bite, while Dante made one for himself. “So, you two went in together to get one? He thought you would look good with a tattoo? What?”