Dominance, Threatened, page 26
BigDick69
Me
I’d kill to be making some pasta right now.
It doesn’t take him two seconds to check the message and respond, waiting for my reply.
BigDick69
BigDick69
I think that is frowned upon on planes.
Me
What? Making pasta or killing?
BigDick69
I was referring to the killing, but now that you mention it, I bet pasta-making isn’t a good idea either.
Me
I can’t sleep. These old men are snoring.
BigDick69
Same. Except it just feels early to me.
Me
Are you ever going to show me how to change your name on here?
BigDick69
I’ll show you why my username is extremely accurate.
A few seconds after the text, a red square appears indicating a photo message. My gaze flickers around the dark cabin and slumbering figures, making sure no one is looking. I press the ‘tap to view’ and ignore my racing heart. Is he really going to . . .
The image is simply a black screen with a sentence across it.
‘Made you look.’
BigDick69
Me
Very funny. Just tell me how.
BigDick69
Come make me.
At the invitation, I’m on my feet before I can remember to be quiet. I quickly compose myself, stuffing my blankets in a way that looks like I’m simply sleeping under the covers, before padding softly across the cabin to his door. Not wanting to barge in — just in case he was joking — or knock and risk waking anyone else, I send him another message.
BigDick69
Me
Knock knock
I half expect a ‘who’s there’ in return based off of Vince’s playful personality, but my eyes widen in surprise as the bedroom door opens faster than I can comprehend. A hand wraps around my wrist, tugging me into the room before the door closes swiftly, yet softly, behind me.
Almost immediately, my back is pressed against the now-closed door by a muscular body towering over me. Somehow, two or three inches makes all the difference when it comes to a situation like this.
In the darkness, I feel Vince’s hips meet mine, my bare chest brushing his naked torso, and he’s breathing just beside my ear. “Did you come in here so I can show you how to change my username or prove why it’s accurate?” He asks softly, mischievously.
Oh, God. Oh, damn. Oh, fuck. The confidence of this man . . .
I decide to play his game, knowing my friends and his brother are just on the other side of the door which makes everything all the more intense. “I came to tell you a secret. Come here.” My words are whispered as well, but Vince hears me just fine. He lets me wrap a hand around his neck and tug his head down lower. I bring my lips to his ear, but instead of speaking, I feel his earring brush against my lips and decide to nip at it.
Back in high school, I had some very idiotic friends. We decided one night to all get piercings, but I chickened out after three of them practically cried from being stabbed with the needle. They didn’t shut up about how sore and tender the piercing was for months.
Vince’s piercing is still new, and I know he has a high pain tolerance as two bullet scrapes barely fazed him the other day. Still, I clamp my teeth around the cartilage and metal of his ear and suck.
A growl — almost a groan — rumbles in Vince’s chest at the mixture of pain and pleasure, and I thrive off of that. I tighten my grip, flicking the diamond stud with my tongue. This time, Vince hisses but also presses even harder against me. We’re both painfully erect and, if he feels anything close to what I do, throbbing.
I pull back with a quiet, “Sorry.” And I am. I don’t want to accidentally hurt him.
A hand suddenly grips my chin in the dark, holding firmly enough that I know I’ll feel it for a few moments after he lets go. Tilting my head to the side roughly, Vince runs his tongue piercing along the edge of my ear in reciprocation. He pauses to growl out a confession. “I like when it hurts.” He nips the lobe of my ear, and the moan that leaves my mouth is embarrassingly loud.
Holy shit. No woman I’ve ever taken to bed has made a sound like that come from me, and I’m stunned for a moment. I guess that confirms that I am very much attracted to Vincenzo Bernardi.
Vince pulls back, and I can just barely make out the delighted surprise in his eyes. “Oh, Mio Principe, I did not realize you would be so loud. That will be fun later, but not right now. I do not think you want to wake your friends by moaning my name throughout the cabin.”
Of all things, I actually blush. “Vinz,” I go to say his full name and a shortened version of it. The two mash together in a cute nickname that I decide to keep. “You can’t say things like that.”
He stares at me for a moment, then cocks a smirk. “Perche?”
“‘Why?’ Because—because you can’t. Your brother and my friends are just on the other side of this door and-and . . .” Despite my whisper-yelling, I groan as I roll my hips forward into him, gasping as the hardness in my thin pajama pants meets his with glorious friction. “E ho un cazzo duro.” I tell him exactly what that hardness is to make sure there is absolutely no confusion. I’m so glad I’ve practically memorized that Italian translation book full of dirty phrases because I’m not sure I would be able to say that out loud in my own language without being embarrassed.
Vince grins like a kid in a candy store. “First of all, tesoro, it is so sexy when you speak Italian to me. Second, m’attizzi, anche. I would succhiare il tuo cazzo if you could be quiet enough. I swear to Dio.” His body remains pressed against mine, and I can feel both of our pulsing lengths between us, aching to find a fix. Groaning, I undulate my hips again, grinding against him in a move that has both of us struggling to stay quiet.
I understand him calling me ‘treasure,’ a sweet Italian pet name, but I’m not sure about the second phrase. The next one consists of something about my dick and a word that sounds a lot like suck. My heart thrums rapidly in my chest. Do I want that if it’s what I think it is? “What did you say? Whatever it is, I can be quiet, I promise. Lo prometto.” My words come out like a desperate beg, and I know I want it.
I want it badly.
“A blow job, Cay,” he whispers in my ear, nipping on my soft lobe. “I would give you one if I was sure you could be quiet.”
“If you’re offering, I’m taking,” I snip in a lust-filled craze. Grabbing his hand, I stumble us through the darkness to the en suite bathroom, further away from where anyone might overhear. Vince closes the door behind us and flicks on the light, flooding the room with a golden light that makes me freeze. Light on? So he can see my body that is nowhere near as muscular as his?
Vince catches my hesitation and smiles softly. “Here.” The light winks out in an instant, then a few seconds later is replaced by a softer light — the flashlight from Vince’s cell phone. He places the flashlight facing up on the counter and brings his now-shadowed face close. “Is this better?” His voice is softer and huskier than I’ve ever heard it.
I nod, trying to push my embarrassment away by grabbing his face and pulling him to me for a heated kiss. My mind is racing, knowing what is coming, so he has free range to tongue fuck my mouth to his heart’s desire. I feel that metal piercing slide against the back of my teeth, and I think I actually melt. Unable to take it anymore, I tilt my head back, breaking our kiss, and moan his name. “Vinz.”
“Shh, baby,” he whispers against my Adam’s apple with a nip.
I can’t help it. “Fuck,” I pant needly.
“I said be quiet,” Vince barks as loud as he dares, closing a hand over my mouth. He applies enough pressure to keep my head tilted back, and the heavy breaths from my nose hit his hand with force. He continues to tease my throat with his mouth, barely-there stubble in sharp contrast to his soft lips, as one hand slips underneath my t-shirt. Tugging it up, Vince brushes over my peaked nipple with rough fingers, and I groan against his hand. He trails his hand over my chest, down my flat stomach, and to the waistband of my pants.
Vince tugs at the elastic, taunting me. I grind my hips forward in an attempt to relieve the throbbing in my cock, but Vince maneuvers smoothly out of my reach. Once I’m still again, he finally dips his hand inside my tented pajama pants. I’m not wearing boxers — to his obvious surprise and my relief — so his fingers brush against my hard dick. He palms me, gripping tightly as if enjoying this just as much as I am. I feel his fingers brush over my neatly trimmed pubic hair, not completely shaved, but not long either. He tugs on it a bit, smiling against my neck. “I like this,” he murmurs into my skin.
My dick is rock hard, painful, and leaking with need, and Vince’s teasing is not helping.
I grab his forearm just above where his wrist disappears into my pants and move it until his hand fully grasps my length. He chuckles lowly at my impatience, right in my ear before licking up along the edge of it, and I groan again. Vince’s hand is like magic as he grips my cock and pumps at a leisurely pace, the feel of his skin against me wrenching more muffled groans from my mouth. The hand stifling my noises tightens, squishing my cheeks.
“You’re going to have to shut the fuck up if we’re going to do anymore,” he growls quietly to me.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Yes.
His large hand tightens and tugs on my length, but this time I keep completely quiet. I can do this.
“Good,” he praises, switching up his movements. He continues placing slow, open-mouthed kisses along the column of my throat, sucking and biting along the way. My hands fall from his arm, roaming up and down his sculpted abs like I’ve been aching to do for so long now. The hard dips and ridges only serve to harden my cock even more, if possible. Something on his side brushes against my fingers, and I inspect it. In the dim room, I can just make out the bandage covering his ribs. I place my hand gently over the patch of white, trying not to focus on his injury too much.
Instead, I let my eyes travel the length of his torso, taking in each muscle engaged as he jerks me off at a devilish pace. That sight alone has my dick tightening and squeezing out drops of precome that Vince uses to make his path slicker. Each tug of his hand has me shuddering and writhing beneath him, barely even noticing as he sucks harshly against my collarbone. Suddenly, he bites the meat of my shoulder to stifle a gasp. “Fuck, Cay. That feels so good, I don’t want to tell you to stop, but it’s been reopening at the slightest thing. I think you’re going to need to let go.”
I blearily look at my hand to see it subconsciously squeezing around his bandaged wound. Damn, he wasn’t lying about liking the pain, but I didn’t do it on purpose. I withdraw my hand, trying to ignore the faint spot of red pooling into the white gauze, and instead move my fingers into his hair. I put both hands into the mop of curls and grab them tight, bringing his mouth to mine again. I bite and suck at his lips as my hips fuck into his hand. Seizing an opportunity, I pull his tongue into my mouth and suck it the same way I did in the car — the same way that drove him crazy.
His grip on my dick tightens even more, and I release his tongue to tilt my head back, mouth open in a silent moan. As I go back, Vince goes down. Before I can process the action, his full lips are closed around my cock as he sucks it deep just like I did to his tongue.
Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Does he not have a gag reflex? No one has ever taken me into their mouth so deep, and the feel of his hot throat tight around my shaft is driving me absolutely insane as he travels up and down my length. I try to thrust my hips at my own pace, but Vince places a forearm across my waist and holds me against the counter. Frustrated, I use my hands in his hair to try to pull his head.
In the middle of the most mind-blowing blow job I have ever received, I fight for control with the man kneeling in front of me. His arm is tense and flexed as he uses all his strength to keep my hips in place. My arms are shaking with effort as I try to fuck myself with his mouth. We go back and forth, neither gaining much ground, and Vince just keeps sucking my cock and lapping the head with that damn tongue ring. He alternates between running his tongue along the thick vein underneath and pressing open-mouthed kisses along my length, running his teeth slightly over my sensitive flesh. The warm metal barbell of his tongue piercing circles the underside of my head, and I feel my body quiver as I hold back my moans as well as my orgasm. God, I want this to fucking last forever.
My hands tighten on his head as he circles the swollen tip of my cock again.
“Do you like that, Cay?” He murmurs, looking up from his kneeling position in front of me. The image of my slick, full cock swaying just inches from his puffy lips almost sends me over the fucking edge, but I clench the base of my shaft with one hand to hold myself back from coming. Those dark eyes flicker down to the hand gripping me, and the cheekiest grin dances across Vince’s face. His tongue darts out to lick his lips, and that barbell flashes in the white light from the phone. “You’re so needy for me, baby.”
“Vinz, if you don’t put my dick back in your goddamn mouth, I swear—”
He shushes me harshly, though not for my volume. He doesn’t want me in control here, but I desperately want to be. Before he can say whatever bullshit is probably about to come out of his mouth, I adjust my grip on him to hold the front of his throat, then fuck my fist with the tip of my dick bumping against his lips, using his leftover spit as lubrication.
I let out a warning growl. “Don’t shush me, and if you aren’t going to suck my cock, you’re going to sit there while I come on your pretty face.”
To my surprise, Vincent opens his mouth and stretches his tongue out flat, offering me a face fuck on a platter. I can’t resist pumping into his mouth, gradually sliding along his tongue and that barbell until my hips are jerking hard and fast. He brings his hand up to swat mine away from my length, and he takes over the tight, twisting movements supplementing his mouth as he bobs up and down at his own rhythm now.
The slickness of his hot mouth lets my dick slide in and out smoothly, no matter who is doing the movements, and despite the power struggle between Vince and me, I come hard and unexpectedly into his mouth.
My mouth is open in silent moans and groans and grunts and pleas as every drop of come is milked from my dick by Vince, sucking me deeper and harder and—Oh, fuck, swallowing me down his throat. Head thrown back and eyes closed tight in pleasure, I ride out my orgasm as long as Vince lets me. Only when I’m stuttering and jerking from over-stimulation does he pull away.
I try to catch my breath as my mind finally switches back on. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I should have told you I was about to—”
“Shut the fuck up, Cay,” he pants, looking up at me with wonderment. “That was so fucking hot.” He stands, bringing his mouth to mine for another kiss, which I happily accept.
In the dim light from the phone, I pull back to look at Vince, eyeing the large erection in his boxers. It stands proud and tall, and I gulp at the thought of trying — and failing — to reciprocate his actions.
A gentle hand catches my chin, tilting my face up to Vince’s. “Let’s go to bed,” he suggests.
“But—”
“Bed.” This time, it’s a demand.
I follow as he grabs his phone and walks into the bedroom. Illuminated by subtle cabin lights, Vince slides into bed, waving me over. He makes room for me beside him, and I climb in.
He’s propped up on the headboard, so I nestle between his legs, feeling his erection between us. Neither of us comments on it, though, as he wraps his arms around my waist and rests his head on my shoulder. Vince trails a few kisses up and down my neck and shoulder, and I feel his smirk grow against my skin. “I assume you will be wearing a shirt while we are in Italy.”
“Of course,” I respond in confusion. I follow his gaze to my shoulder, only to find a dark hickey next to my collarbone. “Vinz, hickeys are for high schoolers. Not grown men!”
“I think hickeys can be for anyone,” he muses, working on sucking a second bruise onto another piece of skin on my shoulder. “Just wear a shirt around anyone, and think of me when you see these.”
I turn my head far to the side to look at him, and he gives me a boyish smile in return. Leaning forward, I latch my lips onto his in a tender kiss, moving slowly and with purpose as we simply just enjoy being together. There is no fight for dominance as neither of us needs to have any this time. We just mold our lips together in various patterns and places, non-verbally exploring our likes and how we feel against each other.
When I finally pull back — lips swollen from kissing — Vince is looking at me with so much adoration in his dark eyes, I can’t help but return the gaze.
“I’ll return the favor,” I promise and press back against his semi-erection, referring to earlier.
“You do not have to.”
“I want to.” I pause. “I-I don’t really know how or if I’ll be good, but I bet I can figure something out.”
Vince’s mouth turns up at the corner. “I bet you can, too.” He kisses me again, and we’re lost for minutes or hours, I’m not sure. “Let me see your phone,” he commands gently after pulling back.
I hand him the phone from my pocket without question, and he opens my contacts first. He types in a number before saving it under ‘Vincenzo Bernardi.’ Then, he clicks on the Snapchat application and makes a few clicks before changing the name beside his cartoon face to ‘Mio Re.’ It’s Italian, but I’m not sure of the meaning.
He surprises me by grabbing his phone and opening the yellow app. He selects my faceless character and goes through the same motions of changing my name to ‘Mio Principe.’
“What do they mean?”
“That’s for me to know.”
“Jerk.”
He chuckles softly, a comforting rumble against my back.
