Break Me Apart (BL)

Break Me Apart (BL)

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing2h 2m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, Oct 13, 2025
A large, strong hand grabbed Jayce by the neck, slamming him face-first into the wall. A weight pressed against his back, pinning him in place, while a thick cock pressed against his ass. A thick, husky voice groaned into his ear. "You have three seconds to decide: be mine, or die with them?" "Please, please don't make me choose," Jayce pleaded, feeling his life flash before his eyes. "One. Two..." Jayce gritted his teeth when he felt a hand pulling his pants down, leaving his ass bare. "I can't be with you, Renato," he yelled, fighting for dominance. "My duty is to bring you down, not to fall for you." Renato grinned, biting down on his ear. "Nothing ever stops me from getting what I want, Sweetcheeks. So, what's it going to be?" * •-• * What do you get when you mix work, pleasure, and affection? Jayce, desperately in need of the bonus pay to fund his nephew's surgery, took over an undercover task to bring down the most dangerous mafia organization in Italy. The task seemed easy, or so he thought. What would he do when his cover got blown and the only way to survive was to date the mafia boss who had eyes for him? He either had to fall in love or get buried by Renato Marino, the infamous mafia boss who wasn't known for giving anyone a second chance.
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He strokes himself with his eyes closed, and there he is-laid out in front of him, thighs parted, skin slick with desire. He imagines his hand sliding up that throat, feeling the shiver rise under his palm before tightening just enough to draw a gasp. His mouth would follow-hungry-down that taut chest, licking, biting, until a rough moan spills out. He knows how that body would respond: the way the hips would lift, aching for more, when his tongue moves lower, so much lower, tasting that salty, trembling skin. And those eyes... those 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 eyes drowning in pleasure, staring back at him with that kind of yielding that would drag a growl from his chest. He sinks deeper into it-deeper into the vision-imagining his fingers there, buried to the knuckles, while the other writhes beneath him, lips swollen from begging too long.

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