Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 51803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Because dominance was definitely the order of the day. All around the table, the twinkies cuddled close to their respective sponsors or pouted and flirted with others. Whatever they said or did, it was obviously aimed at the well-dressed men they were with -- the men with the power. That’s me, Valenti thought. He had a vague idea he ought to be treating O’Brian more aggressively, touching him more possessively, as Twonnie had recommended, but he didn’t really know how to begin. His partner, however, seemed to have no problem getting into character.
“Look, he’s mad at his twink,” O’Brian murmured in his ear, kissing him again and directing Valenti’s attention to the head of the table once more. Sure enough, Conrad was speaking in an angry half-whisper to the small man by his side, and Valenti could catch a few words of the conversation even from where he was sitting.
“Your attitude leaves much to be desired, Julio. I do not care for the way you are acting tonight,” Conrad was saying in a severe tone. He had a slightly foreign accent Valenti couldn’t quite place. The boy frowned and slid one slim brown hand over his tight ass provocatively. Unlike his sponsor, he didn’t bother to lower his voice.
“Well, maybe I should find someone who does then, Master,” he said sarcastically, scanning the table for other prospects. Happening to catch Valenti’s eye, he threw a blindingly white grin in his direction. Uncertain of what to do, Valenti smiled back warily; he had never been cruised so openly before, at least not by a man.
“You see?” Julio’s voice was loud enough for everyone at the table to hear now. “That fine gentleman over there seems to like me, attitude or not.” He started to glide around the table to make Valenti’s better acquaintance. Valenti was just wondering how the hell he was supposed to handle this situation, when it suddenly got more complicated.
As Julio was closing the gap between them, Conrad’s long arm shot out, and he grabbed his boy by the wrist in a grip that looked like it could crush bone. “Not so fast, mi mariposa,” he growled and pulled the hapless Julio in for a kiss that looked more like oral rape.
Bending the slim wrist until Julio whimpered pitifully and sank to the ground beside his Master’s chair, Conrad leaned over and took the smaller man’s mouth with a ferocity that startled Valenti. His cop’s instincts always attuned to the pain of others, he’d almost risen out of the chair to help Julio when strong arms restrained him.
“Relax, babe; it’s just a game they’re playing,” O’Brian breathed in his ear, and Valenti realized his partner was nearly sitting on his lap, having abandoned his own chair when things got tense.
“But it looks like Conrad’s hurting him,” he protested, keeping enough presence of mind to cover his words with a nuzzle against O’Brian’s sleek, tanned throat. He could smell male musk and fresh, clean sweat and realized his partner was as nervous as he was. Somehow that made him feel a little better about the whole situation.
“Look again, Valenti -- the kid’s lovin’ every minute of it,” O’Brian whispered while kissing his way leisurely along his partner’s ear.
“What was that Conrad called him?” Valenti asked, trying not to notice the effect his partner’s mouth was having on him. He felt, as always, linguistically inadequate whenever Spanish was being spoken.
“Mi mariposa means ... think it means ‘my little butterfly,’ somethin’ like that.” O’Brian continued to kiss him, and the touch of his warm lips on the sensitive ear was very distracting. When his partner started sucking his earlobe, Valenti began to wonder how the hell he was supposed to pay attention to anything else.
He tried to focus on the small tableau going on at the head of the table, and he could see that O’Brian was right. Julio was moaning all right -- but not in pain. Conrad had his arm pinned behind his back and was still holding him in a punishing grip, but the bulge Valenti could see in the front of the skin-tight jean shorts was enough to prove that Julio didn’t really mind what was being done to him.
“See?” O’Brian breathed, tonguing his ear until Valenti could feel his own hard-on pushing for escape. His partner’s tight ass rubbing against his crotch wasn’t helping matters, either.
“Would you cut that out? You’re driving me insane,” he whispered, trying to push his partner off his lap in the most unobtrusive way he could. But it was clear O’Brian didn’t want to be pushed away. He clung for a moment more, his arms locked around Valenti’s neck, until he finally allowed himself to be removed to his own seat, where he pouted every bit as convincingly as Julio had been doing.