Free Web NovelChapter 117: The Release
Salvatore didn’t laugh, but the slight curve at the corner of his mouth betrayed his amusement. He held Milo’s gaze, his thumb tracing his jawline before he leaned forward.
Milo wasn’t ready, he closed his eyes instinctively.
Salvatore stopped just before his lips touched Milo’s cheek.
Milo could feel the heat of the man’s breath on his skin. He opened one eye, only to find Salvatore’s smug smile.
Salvatore whispered in his ear, "I’m not sure you’re ready."
Milo gulped. He opened both eyes. "I—I’m ready... If you want to play, Sir. I... will prepare myself."
"Sure? Because you’ve tempted me so much that it’s impossible for me to hold back. This time, I might get a little rougher."
Milo exhaled. "I’d like to try it with you."
Salvatore looked at Milo. He saw the seriousness in his eyes. He simply smiled.
"Very well. Go to my room, straight to the darkroom. Strip and wait for me on your stomach. I’ll be there after I finish this cigar."
Milo’s heart pounded hard against his ribs, a mix of intense arousal and familiar nervousness flooding his stomach.
But he was the one who had asked for it.
"Can I shower first? I’m dirty, Sir."
Salvatore ran his fingers through Milo’s hair, pulling it slowly tighter until the young man whimpered. He pulled Milo’s hair back, exposing his throat.
He could see the frantic rise and fall of Milo’s chest as he breathed.
Milo gasped when he felt Salvatore’s breath on his throat, anticipating what might come next. And then it happened. He felt Salvatore’s lips on his neck.
"S-sir..." Milo caught his breath.
Before he could grab Salvatore’s hand from his hair, the man had already seized his wrist and pressed it down onto the sofa.
"I decide whether you need to clean up or not," Salvatore whispered. He inhaled the scent of Milo’s skin behind his ear. "And I don’t think you need to clean up right now."
Milo swallowed hard. He couldn’t breathe. It was too much.
Salvatore smiled. "Calm down... I haven’t even started yet." He released Milo’s hand and rubbed his chest, trying to slow his heartbeat.
Milo looked at Salvatore. "M-my hair..."
Salvatore gripped his hair tighter for three seconds before letting go. "Go to my room. I won’t repeat myself."
Milo stood up, nodded quickly, and hurried out of the office. He walked upstairs, down the hallway to Salvatore’s room.
He stepped into the room and walked straight to the darkroom.
He was nervous. But he didn’t know if it was because he was so excited that Salvatore had let him play again, or because he was actually scared.
Inside, the scent of cedar and oil immediately hit his nose. The smell was different from last time. And the room looked neater this time.
He took off his suit jacket, unbuttoned his shirt, and kicked off his pants until he was completely naked.
He shouldn’t think about anything right now. He just needed Salvatore. That was enough. He trusted the man.
He climbed onto the smooth black leather bed, lying flat on his stomach with his face pressed into the pillow, his hands resting naturally near his head.
It was cold. He could feel the air on his back, the chill of the leather against his stomach. And his heart was pounding.
Ten minutes later—which felt like years, the door opened, then closed.
Milo’s heart raced. He was here.
Salvatore walked in wearing only a pair of loose black trousers, his broad chest and intricate tattoos fully visible in the dim red light. He walked to the side of the bed, his footsteps making no sound on the thick carpet.
He didn’t speak immediately.
But Milo could feel his presence, heavy, full of anticipation.
Salvatore reached for the heavy leather cuffs on the side table. "Hands behind your back, Milo. I’m going to cuff your hands."
Milo took a deep breath. He brought his wrists together behind his lower back.
Salvatore wrapped the thick, lined leather around his skin and buckled them securely.
The restriction was immediate and total. Milo’s shoulders tensed, his body giving a slight, involuntary twitch as the reality of his complete helplessness settled in.
"Breathe," Salvatore commanded flatly, kneeling on the mattress behind him. The bed dipped under his considerable weight, pinning Milo’s thighs down.
Salvatore poured warm oil onto his palms, rubbing them together before pressing them flat against the center of Milo’s back.
Milo flinched hard, his hips jerking upward against the mattress as a sharp gasp escaped his lips. The sudden touch, even though expected, triggered the old defensive reflexes in his muscles.
"Still," Salvatore said softly, his large hands applying heavy, firm pressure to Milo’s shoulders, forcing him flat. "I told you, your body is safe with me. Just trust me. You don’t have to fight it."
"I’m sorry, Master," Milo whispered into the pillow, his breath shallow. "I’m trying."
Salvatore suddenly spanked Milo’s backside with his bare hand.
Milo gasped. freewёbn૦νeɭ.com
"Don’t speak. Once you enter this room, all the rules apply immediately."
Milo’s breathing quickened as he felt the heat of the spank. He stayed still.
Salvatore slid his oiled hands down Milo’s spine, his heavy thumbs digging into the tight muscles along his lower back.
He spent ten minutes systematically breaking down the physical tension in Milo’s body, working around the old scars with surgical precision.
Milo groaned softly, the initial panic dissolving into a heavy, melting warmth under the man’s relentless, strong hands. The dominance was absolute, but the meticulous pace kept the old fear from tightening his throat.
Salvatore reached for the long strip of black silk on the table. "Head up."
Milo lifted his head, and Salvatore wrapped the cool silk tightly over his eyes, tying it securely at the back of his head.
The darkness became absolute. Without his sight, the dull hum in Milo’s ears seemed to amplify the sound of Salvatore’s breathing and the slick slide of oil against his skin.
"Tonight I will not only play," Salvatore said, his voice a low, vibrating rumble right above Milo’s neck. "I am going to take your release, and I am going to take mine. Is that okay with you?"
Salvatore rubbed Milo’s back. "Answer me."
Milo’s pulse gave a violent, heavy thud. "Y-yes, Master."
So Salvatore was going to fuck him?
Salvatore shifted his position, straddling Milo’s thighs completely. The full weight of his heavy torso pressed down against Milo’s bound wrists, pinning him to the bed.
Salvatore reached down, his large fingers gripping the soft flesh of Milo’s backside, spreading them slightly apart. He rubbed a generous amount of warm oil over the sensitive skin, his fingers tracing the outer edge of Milo’s tight entrance.
Milo flinched violently at the intimate contact, his thighs clamping together instinctively as a small cry escaped his throat. "Master—"
"Relax, Milo," Salvatore commanded, his tone dropping to a slow, reassuring cadence. He pressed his forearm heavily into the small of Milo’s back, pinning his hips down. "I’m going to prepare you slowly. If you resist, it will hurt. Just trust me."
Milo forced his muscles to relax, his forehead sinking into the leather pillow as Salvatore pressed an oiled finger inside him.
The intrusion was tight and sudden, making Milo gasp as his body stretched around the thickness.
Before he could panic, Salvatore began a slow, rhythmic internal massage, his finger moving in a steady circle to loosen the tight ring of muscle.
Milo moaned, a fractured, breathless sound that cut through the soundproofed room. The sensation was a raw mix of sharp, stretching pain and a deep, throbbing pleasure that made his erection press hard against the leather covers.
"Good boy," Salvatore murmured, noting the compliance of Milo’s body.
He added a second finger; the increased stretch made Milo arch his back slightly, his bound hands clenching into fists against his spine.
"Keep breathing. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Try to feel my touch, enjoy it..."
Milo complied, sobbing softly into the pillow as his body gradually accepted the fullness. The meticulous, unhurried pace Salvatore maintained allowed his muscles to stretch fully, the discomfort transforming into a heavy, intoxicating ache centered entirely in his lower stomach.
Salvatore withdrew his fingers; the sudden absence made Milo let out a low whimper. The mattress shifted heavily as Salvatore reached down, unbuttoning his trousers.
"Try to relax. I’m going to put it in..."
He positioned himself directly against Milo’s entrance, his large hands coming down to grip Milo’s hips with unyielding force.
"Relax... hold still," Salvatore growled, his voice rough with his own mounting arousal.
He pushed forward, entering Milo slowly.
Milo cried out into the pillow, his entire body going rigid as his body stretched to its absolute limit to accommodate the man’s size.
The pain was sharp and intense, bringing tears to his eyes behind the silk blindfold, his hips instinctively trying to pull away from the pressure.
"It’s okay, hang in there...," Salvatore murmured soothingly, his heavy chest pinning Milo’s bound wrists flat against his spine, completely immobilizing him.
He remained perfectly still, allowing Milo’s body to adjust. "Breathe... Milo. Don’t hold it in. Let the muscle relax."
Milo trembled violently, his breath coming in rapid, ragged gasps. He focused entirely on the heavy, solid warmth of Salvatore’s chest against his back, using the man’s heartbeat as an anchor.
Slowly, agonizingly, the tight muscles inside him began to ease, the initial sharp pain softening into a deep, burning fullness that filled his entire pelvis.
"Ah... Master..." Milo choked out, his head rolling to the side.
"There it is," Salvatore muttered, dark satisfaction evident in his voice.
He began to move, pulling back slowly before driving deep again. The rhythm was slow, yet heavy, blunt, and utterly dominant.
With every thrust, Salvatore’s hips slammed firmly against Milo, the wet friction of the oil creating a loud, rhythmic sound in the quiet room.
Milo lost all control of his voice. He moaned loudly, a continuous, raw sound of pain and overwhelming pleasure that echoed off the walls.
The blindfold made the darkness feel infinite, forcing his entire consciousness to focus on the physical point where their bodies connected.
Every deep thrust struck with precision, sending intense waves of heat straight to his core.
Salvatore’s pace quickened but remained deliberate, his breathing turned into heavy, ragged growls as the pressure pushed him closer to the edge.
He gripped Milo’s waist harder, his calloused fingers leaving red marks on the pale skin as he drove into him with absolute, unyielding force.
Milo arched his back, his bound hands trapped between them, his lower stomach slick with his own arousal as he leaked heavily against the leather sheets.
He was entirely consumed, completely broken down by the relentless power of the man commanding his body.
"Master! Please... Ahh... Master!" Milo cried out, his voice thick with a profound, intoxicating surrender.
"I’ve got you," Salvatore growled, his thrusts becoming short, hard, and urgent as his own release built.
He drove deep one final time, locking his hips tightly against Milo’s body as his climax tore through him. Salvatore groaned loudly, his entire frame shuddering as he reached his release deep inside Milo’s warmth.
The intense sensation triggered the final breaking point in Milo’s own nervous system. Without Salvatore even touching his front, the sheer intensity of the stimulation and the overwhelming emotional release caused Milo’s body to snap.
He let out a loud, broken sob as his own release came violently, his muscles clenching tightly around Salvatore in a final, prolonged spasm of pure pleasure.
The room fell completely silent, save for the sound of their heavy panting.
Salvatore remained draped over Milo’s back for several minutes, his chest rising and falling heavily, his body slowly relaxing.
He reached around, his large, warm hand cupping Milo’s face, gently wiping away the sweat and tears from his cheeks.
He pulled back slowly and reached behind Milo’s back to unfasten the leather cuffs.
"Bring your arms forward," Salvatore commanded softly, his voice returning to that quiet, protective rumble.
Milo brought his stiff arms around to his front, his wrists tingling as the blood flow returned. He immediately reached up, untied the silk blindfold, and pulled it away.
The dim light filtered back in. Milo blinked his wet eyes, focusing on the sharp, tattooed features of the man hovering above him. Salvatore’s gray eyes were dark, looking down at him with a steady, possessive pride.
Salvatore smiled. He cleaned them both off and reached for the heavy black blanket at the foot of the bed, pulling it up over Milo’s shivering, oiled body, sealing them both inside a warm, private cocoon.
Milo loved this part. He immediately pressed his face into Salvatore’s broad chest, holding onto his forearms tightly, finally safe in the dark.
"Satisfied?" Salvatore asked.
Milo blushed. "I think so...."
"But next time, I’ll punish you if you come without my permission."
