GIOVANNI'S POV
I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard. A murderous, predatory gaze locked onto Tristan, who lay pinned beneath me, a canvas of vulnerable flesh and simmering defiance. The immediate lust that had been thrumming through me, hardening my erection, evaporated, replaced by a sudden, scorching anger.
Tristan, my plaything, my possession, had just openly questioned me. A question that twisted like a knife in my gut. He’d asked why, if I saw him as nothing more than a temporary amusement, I wasn’t allowing him to seek pleasure elsewhere. Why wasn't I letting him fuck someone else, or be fucked by someone else?
The audacity!
A surge of fury flooded my system, hot and volatile. How dare he? How dare he even entertain the thought, let alone voice it aloud? Was he really this insatiable? A cock-and-cum-hungry slut who couldn't be satisfied by me? Hadn't I quenched his… urges, enough?
I had painstakingly convinced myself that Tristan was just a plaything, albeit a particularly exq
