Milo grinned.
The warmth of the blanket cocoon pressed heavily against Milo's bare, oiled shoulders. He lay perfectly still in Salvatore's arms, his breathing gradually slowing after the intense peak of his release.
"I'm sorry," Milo whispered against the dark fabric of the bedding, his voice thick and slightly trembling. "I'm sorry I couldn't hold it any longer."
Salvatore didn't move his arm from around Milo's waist. He adjusted the edge of the blanket to keep the cool air from entering the room.
"Don't worry about it," Salvatore said, his deep voice a steady, quiet rumble right above Milo's neck. "This time, I haven't taught you much yet. We just played and enjoyed it. Did you enjoy it?"
Milo nodded quickly against Salvatore's broad chest, his forehead brushing against the dark ink of the tattoos.
"Yes, Master..."
The specific way Milo said the word, soft, breathless, and completely without hesitation, made Salvatore's body shiver with a sudden, sharp surge of excitement.
