His dick had gone hard and he hadn’t even known. From what? Playing with his own nipples? Ben had done that a million times the past couple weeks and got nothing.

“Don’t think. That’s your problem. Let it all out of your mind. Nothing matters besides getting off. I’ll do the thinking for you. Stroke. Your. Cock.”

And so he did. Ben didn’t let himself think about anything else except what Dante told him to do—what Ben wanted to do as well. Come.

He wrapped his right fist around his aching rod and started to pump his hand. His whole body tensed up. Another bead of pre-come pushed from his head and pooled on his belly. Ben kept stroking.

“Don’t stop with your left hand. Your nipples want your attention. Don’t let them down. Pluck them while you fuck your hand.”

He hadn’t realized he’d stopped but as soon as Dante told him to start again, he did. Ben pulled and teased them. Tightening his hold on his prick. He didn’t feel like he was there. Not completely. He felt the sensation and burn. The pleasure and the urge to blow his load all over his chest but other than that, he wasn’t there. Checked out.

“I’m watching the muscles in your body flex. Watching your thick thighs tense up. All that fucking hair. Your thighs, your crotch. Your dick in the middle of it all. I want to bury my face in you. Smell you.”

“Fuck,” Ben groaned. The hand on his chest dropped away.

“I didn’t say you could stop. Don’t do it again unless I tell you to. I’m thinking for you, Ben. Your balls are tightening. Grab them with your left hand. Keep working yourself with your other.”

Ben did it. Fucking his right hand. Rolled and played with his nuts with his other one. His toes curled up. Somehow he knew his body still hurt yet he didn’t feel it. Couldn’t feel anything but pleasure.

“I’ve wanted to watch you come since the first time I laid eyes on you. Even when I saw you jerk off the boy you whipped, I knew you didn’t come. Show me.”

Ben went rigid. Come shot from his prick, flew up his chest and landed on his throat. And with it the tension bled from his body. With each stroke, each shot some of the tightness left him.

His eyes fell closed and damned if he didn’t think he could actually sleep again.

When he felt hot skin against his throat, Ben jerked his eyes open. Dante’s thumb played in the semen there. Rubbed it into Ben’s skin, then did the same on his chest and his stomach.

“You were very good, Ben. You listened well.”

Ben felt the stir of lust hit him at Dante’s praise. What the fuck?

“You listened very well. Thank you for letting me give you what you need. I washed your clothes. The shirt is ruined but your pants are fine. One of my shirts is folded on the dresser with your pants for you to wear. I’m going to get in the shower. You’ll need to be gone when I get out.”

He touched Ben’s face, then turned and walked from the room.

As soon as he did, thoughts bombarded Ben’s brain again. Dante had just given Ben something no one else had been able to. And he’d taken control. Ben had given it to him.

He’d let Dante make him weak.

Ben shoved out of the bed, got dressed and got the hell out of there as quickly as he could.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Tristan,

I keep seeing it, that night at the house. I’m sure I never told you that before I stopped speaking to you.

It’s strange...how much it affected me. It’s not something I like to admit. Watching him bleed reminded me of Bonnie, which is funny because Javier was evil and she’s the only person in my life I’ve truly loved, other than you. Still, somehow that night bleeds into my past, so every time I close my eyes it’s Javier or Bonnie I see. Javier or Bonnie I hear—his threats, her brokenhearted pleas and sorrow.

I found her. Did I ever tell you that? It’s not something that would be hard for you to find out. It’s public knowledge but not something that’s been talked about in years. It lost its usefulness.

That’s why I can’t sleep. It’s why I was fucked out of my head when I went to the club the other night. Why I was okay with wrapping the leather around a pretty boy’s neck.

It would have been a mistake, had Dante not stopped it.

He’s the man from the diner. Did I tell you his name? Well, it’s Dante. He stopped me from playing with the ginger and he stopped the thugs from beating me when I provoked them. I wanted to hurt. At this point, I’ll try anything to see if it helps.

You don’t need to hear all the details but what you do need to know is he was able to get me hard. My thoughts are all over the place. I can’t remember if I told you that part either.