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A Godfather's Worship: Part 2
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2025-07-24 08:00:32The suite’s air hung heavy, thick with tension under the dim red lights. Elias leaned against the wall, shirt half-open, dark hair messy, eyes sharp with a reckless spark.
Marcus stood stiff, jaw clenched, gray at his temples catching the light, his control frayed as Elias tilted his head, daring him to break.“You’re playing a dangerous game,” Marcus said, voice rough, low, his cock stirred in his slacks as he stepped closer. Elias grinned, stepped forward, and breathed hot on Marcus’s lips.“I already won, Marcus,” he whispered. “You’re too damn stubborn to say it.”“You think that’s enough?” Marcus snapped, grabbed Elias’s waist, fingers pressed hard into his hips, slammed him against the wall with a thud. One hand slid under Elias’s shirt, felt muscle shift, warm and tense, while the other gripped Elias’s neck, held him close, lips almost touching.“You think crawling under my desk made you the boss?”Elias laughed, soft, needy
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Burning Embers: Scorching Tales of Desire A Godfather's Worship: Part 3
[Elias's Perspective]Dinner filled the suite’s private dining area, three courses laid out with precision. Marcus sat across from him, shirt crisp, sleeves rolled up, veins stark on his forearms. He noticed too much, and hated himself for it, while he stabbed his salad, fork scraping the plate.“He’s unreadable,” Elias thought, glancing up. “Cold as stone since I was ten. Controlled. Perfect.”Marcus barely ate, didn’t speak. His silence owned the room before he even entered. Elias shoved lettuce in his mouth, trying to drown his thoughts. “Bet he doesn’t sweat during sex,” he muttered to himself. “Probably counts down like it’s a damn deal.”His eyes traced Marcus, gray at the temples, jaw sharp, faint lines hinting at years of restraint. Forty-two, no softness left, not even in those eyes.Elias cleared his throat. “So, tomorrow’s-”“Eat your food,” Marcus cut in, eyes on his wine glass. “You’ve b
Burning Embers: Scorching Tales of Desire A Godfather's Worship: Part 2
The suite’s air hung heavy, thick with tension under the dim red lights. Elias leaned against the wall, shirt half-open, dark hair messy, eyes sharp with a reckless spark. Marcus stood stiff, jaw clenched, gray at his temples catching the light, his control frayed as Elias tilted his head, daring him to break.“You’re playing a dangerous game,” Marcus said, voice rough, low, his cock stirred in his slacks as he stepped closer. Elias grinned, stepped forward, and breathed hot on Marcus’s lips. “I already won, Marcus,” he whispered. “You’re too damn stubborn to say it.”“You think that’s enough?” Marcus snapped, grabbed Elias’s waist, fingers pressed hard into his hips, slammed him against the wall with a thud. One hand slid under Elias’s shirt, felt muscle shift, warm and tense, while the other gripped Elias’s neck, held him close, lips almost touching. “You think crawling under my desk made you the boss?”Elias laughed, soft, needy
Burning Embers: Scorching Tales of Desire A Godfather's Worship
Marcus adjusted his tie, posture ramrod straight as the boardroom lights cast down over his graying temples and sharp jaw. He was the image of composure, except for the twitch at the corner of his mouth… and the hand gripping the armrest."…Q3 revenue is up by twelve percent," he said, voice low and steady, despite the distraction currently kneeling beneath the table.Elias.His godson.The same boy he helped raise, now twenty and far from innocent. The same one who had whispered in his ear this morning, "Bet you can't handle me while doing your little CEO thing."He didn't knock. He didn't ask. He just slipped under the desk before the meeting began, smirking as he crawled between Marcus's legs with wicked intent.Marcus cleared his throat sharply.A tongue slid along his inner thigh.He shifted slightly in his chair, enough to hide the way his knees nearly buckled from just a breath.No one could see.
Burning Embers: Scorching Tales of Desire The Ghost in my Apartment: Part 9
Day 13. Nathan woke up, body limp, butthole sore, and shaft kissed red from ghostly worship. Sheets were clinging in places he didn't want to talk about. His legs refused to move. His neck had bite marks, from air. He stared up at the ceiling fan like it could offer him therapy. "You didn't hold back at all…" His voice cracked. The silence was suspiciously smug. And then the mirror fogged. "YOU BEGGED." Nathan groaned into his pillow. --- Kitchen crawl of shame He managed to crawl, crawl, to the kitchen, dragging a blanket behind him like a war survivor. He poured water with trembling hands, only to feel a breeze lift his shirt and stroke his shaft. Gently. Intimately. As if proud of its own sin. "Stop it." A whisper on his neck: "MAKE ME."
Burning Embers: Scorching Tales of Desire The Ghost in my Apartment: Part 8
Day 12.Nathan stood in front of the mirror, shirt halfway lifted, watching nothing.But feeling everything.A cold draft curled around his hips.Then pressure.A slow, deliberate push against the small of his back, right where the spine dipped, where breath got caught and eyes fluttered shut.His reflection stared back at him, lips parted, chest heaving, while unseen hands traveled lower.His knees knocked."You're not gonna let me get dressed, are you?"The lights flickered.Then the mirror fogged again."WHY BOTHER?"Nathan grinned despite himself.The ghost's answer was always maddeningly simple, and brutally effective.Now pressed against the vanity, his reflection fogged and blurred, Nathan gasped as fingers, cold and knowing, slid beneath the waistband of his briefs.They gripped.Lifted.Pulled him back into a cruel rhythm that wasn't mean
Burning Embers: Scorching Tales of Desire The Ghost in my Apartment: Part 7
Day 11.Nathan didn't wake up like most people.There was no blaring alarm, no streak of sunlight across the sheets.Just the chilled kiss of air on the nape of his neck.And fingers, phantom ones, trailing his spine with the softness of breath and the intent of sin.He sighed, eyes still closed, hips shifting slightly beneath the sheets."You really don't sleep, do you…" he murmured.No answer came, but a ghost of laughter brushed his ear.Then a hand, one that didn't exist, slid beneath the waistband of his shorts.Nathan tensed.Then melted.---The covers lifted slowly, as if the air itself grew impatient.The phantom's presence curled around him, familiar now, almost warm despite the chill.He felt his legs being eased apart.Teasing fingers ghosted over sensitive skin, not solid, but felt, intimately, absolutely felt.They skimmed past his thighs, cu
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