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“Look into his Angel eyes, one look and you’re hypnotised. He’ll take your heart and you must pay the price.”
Of course, the cycle of lust-filled torment that Enrico was experiencing on a daily basis continued to be extremely overwhelming. When he was alone back home it was easy to distract himself with bible verses or other endless amount of work left undisturbed and piling. But here, at the mansion, he was privy to many instances of intense desire where all he could do was wait it out. Fruitlessly attempting to block out the sounds of pure sinful and inviting passion above his room that had him longing and painfully aroused. It was hell… but it was a hell he shamefully wanted to descend into, engulfed in the vampires shadow as he awaited with a devious smirk and an extended open palm.
The devil was once Gods favourite… a vision so enchantingly enticing that falling for him at first sight was a decisive, predetermined outcome. And he was so easily tempted by the devil after all. The devil he was warned about so frequently in church growing up, fearful of divine retribution. The very same devil that laughed and spoke with him nightly over a bottle of wine and a book. The one he desired nothing more than to straddle the lap of wearing nothing but his crucifix necklace. Arching his back against his touch, his thighs quivering in ecstasy with each possessive caress of his beautiful, porcelain hands. A moan clawing it’s way from his throat partly through a half-committed, mumbled prayer. Useless when soft lips brushed against the skin of his neck, expressing gentle words of praise and fleeting kisses.
No…no Dio was not the devil. He didn’t deceive Pucci, nor did he seek out to use him for his own pleasures. Enrico trusted him with his life and Dio in return entrusted him with his beloved Heaven plan. They were equals, partners in their shared pursual of such goals. Someone, that for once in his life, treated like Pucci like a true friend. As he looked at him with those Angel eyes that brought nothing but an painful reminder of how much he loved him. How he could hypnotise him with his words and gentle touch.
But a few nights after Pucci finally admitted to Dio where his desires lay, he was accidentally privy to a sight he should’ve strayed from. One branded so deeply into his memory that no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t forget. All the sights…sounds…smells so prominent in his mind that he was instantly transported back to that place.
Dio had left him to his own devices while he had excused himself for a few hours with promises to return and continue their rather philosophical conversations regarding humanity. So he decided to sit in the splendid library for a while, studying the material that Dio owned, running his hand across the spines of books as he did so. Perusing and, even going as far as to say, judging the literary taste of Dio. As it so appeared, Dio was surprisingly quite the collector of gothic horror. Lovecrafitian horror he claimed being a rare something that actually made him question and ponder on the stories posed. Unsurprisingly he also had a vast collection of classics that he had missed out on during his almost 100-year experience on the seabed.
Dio had also one copy of Dracula, a book he harkened as “utter nonsensical drivel”. Yet he still continued to read it to laugh at the inaccuracies and use it as an enjoyable hate-read. Poking fun at the small harem of three vampiric wives that Dracula had and often compared it to his own, larger collection of devout followers.
Once Pucci was bored of reading alone he decided to leave the mansion for a little while and enjoy the last few rays of the setting sun. As he was strolling across the corridor however, a sound tickled his ear and made his heart quicken.
A low male moan. Directly coming from Dio’s room, which he was about to pass. It was now evident what Dio had left him to do and the thought made Pucci warm all over. He decided to keep walking by, but as he passed the door another moan captured his attention and his eyes unconsciously fluttered to the direction of the sound. The noises were so loud because he noticed that the door wasn’t fully shut. With good Christian intent and a care for his friends well-being he stepped forward, averting his gaze, to close the door fully for him. But some urge inside him, forced him to look up just as his hand wrapped around the door knob. His eyes looking in and taking in the sight before him.
He didn’t mean for this… but he froze in place, captivated by the sight.
Sprawled across the bedsheets was a man Pucci had never seen before, completely naked and producing the most strangled sounds of pleasure he had heard in a while. On his back as one hand was running through his thick black hair and the other gripped the bedsheets. An action so reminiscent to Pucci’s own during nights where he clutching stopped himself from indulging in his sin. Legs folded up and open. His breathing sounded so uneven and heavy that one could mistake it for a man who had just ran a marathon if it weren’t for the moans that infiltrated between the pants.
This man was so vastly different to Enrico in looks, while Pucci had an almost beautiful and pretty bone structure this man had a more masculine facial appearance. Thick hair coated his jawline and upper lip, chest and trailed off into the bush above his penis. Compared to Pucci’s almost hairless chest and face with a very small trail leading into his well-kept finely groomed pubic hair. The difference in their looks made Pucci almost a little sad, in his realisation of what Dio’s preferences in men seemed to be.
But where the priest-in-trainings eyes were truly focused was upon the diety between his open legs. Dio was kneeling, completely bare too, his rippling muscles that Enrico found himself enthralled by all entirely on display for the lucky man before him. Dio’s own porcelain complexion a direct contrast between the darker, Egyptian skin and Pucci couldn’t help but picture his own against Dio. Upon his face was twisted grin of desire as he drunk up all the sights and sounds the man was creating. His hair pushed back with strands falling messily over his own face. His own erection somewhat (disappointingly) covered by the man’s body.
One hand was wrapped around the man’s arousal, languidly pumping it up and down, fingers gliding across the shaft with expert movements. Some type of slippery liquid aiding his movements and sliding over the man’s length with a lewd, slapping sound. The red, enlarged head of the man’s cock, slipping and poking through Dio’s grip with each stroke.
The other hand, from Pucci’s angle, was quite hidden behind the man’s open thighs but it seemed to be doing something that caused the man to let out such high pitched whines. Pucci raised his eyes to Dio’s face once more who leant down over to the man’s face, licking from his neck up to his ear. Filthy and dirty were the only words to describe every movement the vampire was doing.
He couldn’t quite make out the whispers of Dio’s voice over the wet smacking sounds of his hand and the man’s groans. Whatever he said though must have had an effect as the man, who opened his eyes and moaned his name in response. A stinging jealousy running through Pucci, wanting nothing more than to be the one to call his name like that.
Dio removed both his hand and, with a single word order (that Pucci just about made out with “turn”), the man clumsily turned onto his front, raising his rear high in the air and burying his face in the pillows. Dio hummed in response, positioning himself to better push up against the man’s ass before giving it a quick, yet harsh spank when the man went to turn his head and watch. Then with an obscenely explicit sight, Dio pulled apart the man’s cheeks staring down at his hole with a devilish grin. With a disgustingly erotic action he spat a glob of his own saliva between the cheeks and in one swift movement, grabbed his own cock and shoved it inside the man. Ravishing him and pushing himself deeper until Dio’s arousal was fully sheathed and hidden inside his ass. Exhaling and closing his eyes briefly as he adjusted himself to the new sensation before he starting pounding into him.
Pornography was already a sin, never-mind indulging in such explicit secret voyeurism of Dio and another man. He had refused to ever engage in such material in fear. Only very occasionally reading some erotica stolen from his mother that brought more religious guilt than enjoyment in the end. But here he was, watching as Dio gripped his hips and thrust into this man who, in response, moaned unashamedly and wantonly like a whore.
I can’t be here… I can’t stand here watching like this. Lord, show me how to say no to this… give me the strength to pull myself away from such inviting temptation. Please…
But while he struggled immensely with the mental torture upon the pleasure building from such a sight, his body clearly began acting on its own with an entirely different goal. His hand slowly edging its way down his stomach from where he was initially clutching at the crucifix underneath white cotton. Resting just above the waistband of his pants before creeping under his belt and brushing over his rock-hard erection over the thin layer of his underwear. Refusing to dip below that layer. Squeezing so delicately with hesitation and uncertainty from such an unfamiliar action. His eyes threatening to close under the heaviness and strong sensitive sensations of his very-hard arousal. But he refused to give in otherwise he would miss out on the secret show before him. It almost too much to handle from a man who had never touched his penis like this before. The sweat began to bead at the hairline of own forehead as his body began to burn with a heat never before experienced. Fever like symptoms of his arousal taking over every fibre of his being, every cell of his body.
He watched as Dio threw his head back elegantly with half-lidded eyes and a moan escaping his own throat. A moan so hot that Pucci felt his own erection leak at the sound alone. The familiar feeling of pre-cum wetting the fabric slightly. A flurried chorus of panted cries of “yes” coming from the man and groans from the vampire with each thrust.
After standing and watching the display for an uncertain amount of time he made a grave mistake. In his hazy stupor of lust, he accidentally leant against the door that creaked ever so slightly as if chastising him for disturbing its slumber. The noise alerting Dio to the uninvited presence, who opened his eyes partially and tilted his head towards the door, still not stopping his movements. Seemingly unbothered but more intrigued at who was watching him.
Pucci snatched away his hand from where it lightly fondled his own erection and hastily stepped away from the door. A painful flood of guilt piloted his brain and his eyes widened with uncertainty and fear of being caught in such a precarious situation. There was absolutely no words to describe the pit-like void that began to fester inside him with dread. He slapped a hand across his mouth in shock.
What if Dio had seen him? No…no if anything the dim lighting of the mansion would mean at best all he would have seen was a shadow. A lingering presence intruding upon his private moment of passion. But he wouldn’t know who it was.
God he hoped not.
He ran away from the scene of the crime with an almost comical speed, eager to escape and find sanctuary within his bedroom.
About an hour after the ordeal, Dio had knocked at Pucci’s door, interrupting him from his prayer of absolute repentance. Gracing him with a smile and brandishing a bottle of wine for the two of them to converse over whilst drinking. Pucci smiled back and followed him to the library, silently admiring the muscles, he had seen in their entirety not so long ago, underneath the tight leather of his top. Before his mind could wander any further, they sat back down in the library and Dio poured them a glass of wine each that Pucci smiled and took.
They continued to drink and talk for quite some time. He hadn’t yet made a comment regarding the situation from earlier, which lured Pucci into a false sense of security that, perhaps, he had gotten away with it.
That was until, Dio brought it up.
“Enrico darling I had a question to ask you?”
“Yes?”
Dio adjusted himself in his seat, placing down his glass with a serious expression.
“I’m not… entirely sure how to bring this up without potentially making you feel uneasy and you know that’s never my intent.”
Well that was mildly terrifying. The wine glass was brought to his lips and he helped himself to a moderately sized gulp. Honestly the faster the wine started having its effect the better at this rate. Very unfitting to aim for as a priest-in-training who had to resist overindulgence and gluttony. The slight buzz from the numerous glasses of a light Pinot Noir was becoming more obvious. Specifically chosen by Dio as a lighter drink for a man inexperienced with alcohol and an extremely low tolerance.
He cleared his throat. “You can ask me anything Dio, I shan’t take offence.”
You can’t take offence when it’s an accusation that is entirely truthful.
Then Dio’s eyes darkened with something Pucci couldn’t explain, lowering his head and keeping eye contact when he asked the question.
“Did you watch me earlier?”
Wide panic-stricken doe eyes met calm, feline ones, painted with black eyeliner to emphasis the beauty of his eyes. He had been silently admiring the accentuating makeup all evening, but now it only added an intimidating feel as he stared at him.
“When do you mean?” Pucci attempted to assuage the building trepidation of the question at hand by feigning innocence. But there was only so far he could act the part before his voice cracked from the pressure. He never was much of a liar, even less to this perfect being before him. It was only a matter of time until he crumbled.
“Earlier I was… engaged in carnal acts with another man.”
A horrific blaze of jealousy coursed through his blood with an unjust vengeance upon the memory. Who was he to think of himself in that way? Why should he feel such a way about his friend like that, a friend who treated him with such respect that he himself would never consider himself worthy of. Never even deserved.
It was because deep inside of him, away from the rational part of his brain, he craved desperately to be in that man’s position. If Dio so asked of him, he would willingly fall to his knees before him and enact his every will. Would risk desecrating his dignity and integrity just to taste him once. Throw everything away that he strived for just to hear his name called out in fevered ecstasy. He didn’t wish for Gods presence to fill him but instead for Dio himself to do it.
For Dio was his saviour. The one that was there for him in his hour of need. When Pucci called out for God… when he cried for his guidance all that was returned to him was nothing but stagnant air and silence. But in his lowest moment, as he held the limp, lifeless cadaver of his younger sister who he cared for more than anything in this world, the one who was there for him was Dio. The minute he was reunited with him a new sense of purpose took over every fibre of his being. He wanted to help Dio like how Dio helped with his own rebirth. He would assist him in anyway possible for the vampire.
Dio was still watching him and Pucci was still drinking the wine in his hand with a certain few gulps in a rather less than sophisticated way. He was absolutely tipsy by this rate and his next gulp was interrupted by Dio’s soothing yet stern tone.
“Enrico, did you watch me?”
Pucci blinked, inhaling through his nose as he felt all the moisture evaporate from his mouth. He looked over at Dio and answered.
“Yes…” his barely audible whisper echoed across the room.
Instead of any inclination of malice or betrayal, Dio’s eyes glistened with delight. Lips spread into a wide, devilish smirk as he placed down his own glass delicately.
“Hmm, not the first time I’ve had an audience, though I never quite anticipated a holy man to witness my delights of the flesh.”
Pucci wanted to speak up, to defend his actions, but the way Dio brought his leg to rest upon the other and he absently stroked his own thigh distracted him greatly. Picturing that same hand but across his own thigh, teasing him until his skin felt fit to combust from the warmth that swept across his body. Electricity coursing through his veins upon each touch. The elegance of his pose, his angelic beauty so stunning in appearance that it would rival Aphrodites own sensuality.
No instead all he did was blush deeply, deciding to internally blame it on the alcohol.
“Have you ever seen anything like that before?”
Pucci felt his breath hitch as he looked away from the burning gaze and focused on the red liquid of his glass. Twirling it around between his trembling fingers before bringing it back up to his lips and taking another sip. No longer seeking the pleasant feeling of the wine itself but merely using it as a distraction as his head pondered on a response. His voice was low and meek as he finally responded.
“No.”
Dio’s laugh hummed through the room and it only made his cheeks burn further at the sound. Pucci watched through the corner of his eye as Dio leant back once more and stood up to retrieve a new bottle. His heels clicking across marble floors that echoed around the room like the presence of a king that he was.
“What an honourable first experience to witness.”
But on the tip of Enrico’s tongue was a question he desperately wanted to hear the answer to. A question he really shouldn’t let leave his lips. But before he knew it, the dam had collapsed and it spilled from his lips with an almost ferocious demand.
“What were you doing exactly?”
His ears started to burn as Dio stopped his movements with his back to him. Before turning around and directing his gaze towards him with an enigmatic smile. Wine glass positively forgotten about with the new train of conversation.
“Well…” Dio outstretched his hand as he pondered on the words, waving it about dramatically before settling on the phrase he searched for. Smirking at Enrico with a look that could only be described as concealed glee. Whether it be at the memory itself or at Pucci’s audacious intrigue he wasn’t sure.
“We were being intimate.” Every T was emphasised greatly upon Dio’s tongue.
“Who was he?” Pucci asked more hastily than he had anticipated.
“Just a man.”
“Handpicked from the street?”
“Is that piece of knowledge important?”
“It was just a question.” Pucci snapped despite himself and felt his embarrassment grow when Dio merely raised an eyebrow in return at his outburst. The younger internally cursed himself for his actions and blinked rapidly as his shaky voice rang out. “I was just curious. You’ve always credit me on my ability to ask questions when I query something.”
Dio let out a puff of air through his nose as acknowledgment before responding. “Just a man on a Cairo street that I found attractive and brought back to the mansion.”
Why don’t you find me attractive like that?
“Right.” Pucci nodded and his fingernails tapped the wine glass uncertainly.
Dio leant closer, his hand delicately touching Pucci’s knee in a move meant to settle his nerves. Yet it did the exact opposite, muscles stiffening under his touch and all too aware of its presence. Clenching at his jaw as he avoided looking at the hand, as if it could read Pucci’s mind whirring with inappropriate thoughts of fantastical scenarios.
“You seem…rather flustered, I can’t imagine this type of conversation comes up often in church”
His hand crept just a few centimetres from the knee and was now holding his lower thigh possessively. So much so that Enrico could feel the skin scorching from underneath the fabric barrier. Now all of a sudden he couldn’t keep his eyes away. He wondered briefly, If Dio could too feel the heat swelling from his touch underneath.
Stop thinking about his hand… stop thinking about what it was doing earlier and God knows what other things it had engaged in.
“We are taught to stay pure and sacred until marriage.” He mumbled, eyes staying pinned on the hand he wanted desperately to move up his leg.
Dio let out a low laugh that caused Pucci to perk up with a questioning look. “How dogmatic of the church… to avoid the pleasures of sex until marriage. How extremely sad.”
“Abstinence before marriage is what honours the bond of marriage according to the bible. Coupled with the idea that Gods clear intent for intercourse is procreation. Producing children is a Miracle.
“Enrico, sex doesn’t always have to be with the intent to procreate.”
“No I…I know that.”
How could he not? Not when Dio fucked like it was second nature to breathing.
Pucci continued. “God also designed sex with the intent of it being a pleasurable experience between a man and a woman in the confines of marriage.”
“So what I did with that man wasn’t right in your eyes? Or is was it sinful in the eyes of the Lord?”
“You know I don’t think badly upon same-sex, I would never judge you for what you do with others. Do not insinuate or mistake me on that.”
I want you to do it with me after all.
Dio stood up then and walked over to where Pucci sat on the couch, sitting down beside him. Their knees touching slightly and Pucci couldn’t help but feel the intimacy in such an act.
“Forgive me for ever insinuating such a thing. I never wish to upset you and I know you’re different to all the other pious catholics I’ve come across before. You’re special Enrico, you watch and understand much of the world unlike others. I’m so glad I can call you my friend.”
Pucci had to bite his lip and look away from Dio at the words. Looking away awkwardly as Dio once again broke the silence to speak again.
“That man from earlier… he was just a toy for my own pleasure. I didn’t care for him if that’s what has confused you.” Dio hand squeezed his leg again in its earlier position and Pucci knew from the placement of this hand he couldn’t take up his usual sitting position when arousal started to pump around his body.
“I’m just not used to… any of this Dio.”
“Any of what my darling?”
Pucci felt the burning skin return with a vengeance. “You know… casual intercourse and talking about it all so effortlessly as if it’s easy and… normal.”
“But it is Enrico. It’s nothing to be ashamed about. When I have sex, it’s because it’s a way of experiencing such feats of pleasure and intimacy. It’s a natural and beautiful union of souls at their most vulnerable.” Dio smiled.
He couldn’t prevent himself from staring at those beautiful lips of Dio’s. He longed to taste them, to savour the flavour of their shared wine so much more delightfully tasty from his tongue than his own glass. He pulled his eyesight away from his glorious mouth.
“Dio…?”
“Yes Enrico?” Dio smiled.
Pucci swallowed what remaining saliva was in his mouth and looked up at the blonde beside him.
“What…what does it feel like?” Pucci asked with uncertainty and a confidence he really shouldn’t have.
“It’s not too dissimilar to the sensations of your own hand at night. Only heightened from when you touch yourself.”
Pucci looked away as his face and neck burned in embarrassment. Keeping quiet and nodding slightly to try and avoid the topic at hand. A topic he had absolutely no experience at given he had refused the urge to give into masturbation his entire life to keep himself pure. But right now, he felt the furthest from being clean, no… instead he felt dirty. And he would be lying if he would said that he didn’t want to embrace that sin and filth fully with Dio between his legs.
His eyes peeked to look at Dio and found himself locked in a passionate exchange of eye contact. One hinting of intrigue at his awkward response, awaiting Pucci’s full explanation and next response to his own comment. A heat took over his entire body, washing over him like a tsunami and he felt fit to drown in it. He wet his lips as his tongue darted out quickly from his mouth.
“If I’m honest…I’ve…never…” He trailed off, incredibly embarrassed.
“Ah. So you haven’t touched yourself before; so chaste.” Dio hummed a gentle laugh, one far from mockery, instead moving closer and lowering his voice to seductive tone. “Well… It’s euphoric. An ecstasy that builds until you can’t hold back anymore. It feels like electricity coursing through your blood and in that moment you’re never more connected to your partner. You’re so… excited and aroused and it grows until you finally reach… a release beyond anything else.”
An exhale left his lips at the description, Dio’s thumb continued rubbing circles on his thigh. Another question began probing Pucci’s mind that he needed answering. Something that really he ought not to ponder on but here they were and all he craved was Dio’s attention in any capacity.
“When I was… when you were with him I… I never saw you kiss him.” Pucci stammered, rubbing his hand against his knee looking away to save his humiliation growing.
“That’s because I only reserve that type of intimacy for people I care deeply for.”
Pucci nodded, his head dizzy and he wasn’t sure if it was a result of the wine, the intrusive thought of kissing Dio’s lips or a combination of both.
“Enrico…” Dio brought his hand to caress the cheek of Pucci’s face, tilting his head to meet his unblinking gaze. His other hand carefully taking the wine from his hand and placing it onto the table so he could no longer hide behind the glass. “Have you never kissed someone before?”
Pucci’s eyes fluttered and he whispered quieter than anything said this evening.
“No. I’ve never had a desire to until…” he cut himself off and stared deep into Dio’s eyes, that glistened with a hidden delight and his lips curled into a smirk.
“Until?”
You. Until you. Until I saw you and wanted you to change everything.
Pucci gulped and blinked rapidly, taking a deep breath. Unable to complete the rest of his sentence. He was most certain that his face was a deep a shade as the wine on the table. His arousal was coming back in full force, coursing through his veins and soon to become obvious in his trousers. Dio brought his hand to lift Pucci’s chin, his thumb tracing the soft flesh of his bottom lip. An act that was so innately flustering and intimate that Pucci felt his stomach twist and his heart rate quicken. Dio brought his face closer to Enrico’s and whispered.
“Would you care for me… to be your first?”
Their lips were now centimetres away from the other, he could feel Dio’s breath upon his mouth, his own, uneven breathing against Dio’s.
God, I know in my own selfish, lust-filled heart that I am not holy. I can only be made holy because of you.
The wine clouded every rational part of his brain that under sober circumstances would make him hesitate to agree to such actions. But no matter how much he told himself that… he knew deep inside that he had wanted to do this for a very long time. Since the day he met him, he longed to kiss him.
So, he nodded determinately.
Dio smiled. “I’m honoured you’d allow me this pleasure.”
Pucci lowered his eyes to Dio’s lips. To where he was very soon permitted to explore.
“Only you Dio… please.”
Dio responded by lightly pressing his own lips against Pucci’s. The two sat for a few moments, relishing in the sensation of them finally joined together. Pucci squeezed his eyes shut and Dio brought his other hand, that wasn’t holding his chin, to wrap around his waist pulling him closer. Pucci stayed still, uncertain what to do with his hands before shakily bringing them to rest on Dio’s chest. Dio then began to move in the kiss and naturally, beyond what Pucci was thought to be possible with his lack of knowledge, Pucci too began to follow his movements.
Euphoria.
Part-way through their gentle kiss, Dio pulled back ever so slightly, lips still brushing up against Enrico’s. Sucking lightly at his lower lip before pulling away completely. The sounds of Pucci’s uneven breathing filling the empty air before Dio spoke quietly, careful not to ruin the mood of their environment.
“More?”
Pucci nodded.
“Open your mouth slightly my love.”
Enrico parted his lips more than before for Dio, who in response licked at his lips, caressing them and slipping his tongue into his open mouth. Playfully and slowly dragging his tongue against Pucci’s, teasingly brushing together as Dio led with practised ease. Pucci tried his best to reciprocate as smoothly as the vampire but his efforts were more much cumbersome. The passion of their shared kiss however meant that he didn’t care and just wanted to continue savouring his tongue and mouth that tasted of the sweet wine. Their slow kiss gradually flowed into a natural rhythm like a dance with Dio leading and Pucci following his movements.
Dio pulled his head back and Pucci opened his mouth further to extend his tongue, resting on his bottom lip. In attempts to keep the sensations of his mouth on him. Dio brought his mouth down to take his tongue and lower lip between his lips as his head moved down to Pucci’s neck. Leaving fleeting kisses among the skin. Small gasped exhales left Pucci’s throat at the sensation, a shaky, uncertain moan escaping into the now warm air. Without realising his internal prayer slipped out.
“God, I want to see you in heaven one day, to taste and see your holiness.”
Dio lifted his face to look back at Pucci, with a devilish smirk. “Which God are calling to right now Enrico? Whose attention do you seek… who gets to have you?”
Burning words, scorched his tongue will-fully upon uttering such divine words of lust.
“I speak to you Dio… it’s you I need.”
“Good boy…” Dio breathed before leaning up and deepening their kiss once again, Pucci moaning in response to the delicate praise tickling his ears. They continued their kiss for a while before Pucci pulled away to press his lips against Dio’s neck as Dio hummed.
“I’m so happy to see you give into your wants Enrico. You make me ever so proud.”
Pucci pulled away from his neck and the two of them pressed their lips together once more before pulling away and smiling at the other. Pucci taking a moment to once again settle and regain his breath.
“How was it?”
Pucci smiled. “Amazing… even better than I imagined it would be…”
“So you imagined it then.” Dio’s smirk grew into one of playful mockery. Pucci pushed him away with a blushing smirk and rolled his eyes.
“Oh shush. I blame the alcohol for any decisions this evening.”
“Ahh.” Dio leant back picking up his own glass and taking a sip with a side eye. “Come morning will you feign any memory of this evening? Pretend like nothing happened?”
Pucci smiled and shook his head. “Of course not.”
Dio leant forward to press one final peck to his lips.
How could he ever want to forget what he had experienced after so long of waiting?
Dio whispered against his lips. “I hope to be a lot of your firsts Enrico…”
As do I. I’m addicted to the sensation of your lips.