At Nico's mansion, when Dante left. The door hadn’t clicked shut before Nico groaned, spine arched, collapsed forward into the plush tangle of limbs below him. “God, finally,” he drawled, chest heaved, skin glistened with sweat, cock still hard, slick with cum. “He always knows when to ruin my rhythm.”The boy beneath, pale, trembling, throat littered with red teeth marks, whimpered, half-exhausted, half-wrecked from Nico’s final thrust, cock ground deep into his ass, slow, punishing. Nico pulled out, lazy, smeared in sweat and cum, rolled onto his back, sprawled like a king done with his toy.The living room pulsed, a writhing sea of bodies. Backs arched, slick with sweat, mouths gasped, moaned against flushed skin, hands clawed, stroked cocks and pussies, relentless. The room was a temple of carnal ruin, scented with musk, oil, and raw need. Nico sat at its altar, a god never sated.His assistant, shirtless, sweat
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