Moor (Twisted Bard)

Scene III

SCENE III

DES

D es got out of the car and walked into his parents' home without knocking. Since he didn't see his father anywhere, he went straight to his office.

"Father, what—" he said, bursting through David's office door but stopped mid-sentence when he saw Doctor Stephen and a strange woman sitting comfortably, dressed in an expensive pantsuit. At a quick glance, Stephen resembled the woman, so Des assumed they were related.

"Desmond, what are you doing here?" David asked, getting up from his desk and meeting him partway.

"I came to see Mother," he lied, not taking his eyes off Stephen and the woman. "She's been calling me to talk about—" Des stopped speaking again and walked over to Stephen. "What are you doing here?"

Stephen glanced behind Des as if looking for permission to answer him.

"I came to see Doctor Ellington," Stephen responded.

"Really?" Des said, dragging out the word, then turned to David. "Father, you didn't answer my question. Where is Mother?"

"She's not here," he said, looking away sheepishly. "She walked out on me this morning."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, David, tell him the truth. He is an adult. He should be able to handle it," the lady said, standing up and standing next to Des’s father, holding one of his arms.

"Mom," Stephen said just as David said, "Dawn, no."

"Your father and I are getting married after he divorces her ," Dawn said gleefully.

"Her?" Des said, utterly disgusted with the way she referred to his mother. But Des ignored her and looked at his father. "After all my mother has done for you, this is how you treat your wife. The woman who has stood beside you and listened to every fucking thing you say. But in one split second, you turn your back on her and take up with some trollop."

"Watch your mouth, boy," David growled.

"The fuck I will," Des snapped. "You fucking disgust me."

"Des, don't talk to Dad like that," Stephen said.

"Dad—Dad—" he scoffed. "I remembered when I was five, I called you Dad. You shouted at me never to call you that, but this bastard gets the privilege of doing so."

He had already clocked that Stephen was David's son, but hearing the man call him Dad cut Des deeper than it should have. "All my life, I tried my best to get you to notice me. To see my worth, yet you already had the son you wanted."

He turned to Stephen. "Let me guess, you're following in the footsteps he laid out for you while I am a disappointment to him. The night at the hospital, you knew who I was. I kept thinking there was something off about you, but I never guessed we were related."

"It's not like that," Stephen said, looking at Des with pitiful eyes.

"The fuck it isn't," Des yelled.

"I want to get to know you," Stephen said. "I've heard so much about you from Dad and the people at the hospital?—"

"Fuck you," Des growled at him. "I want nothing to fucking do with you."

"You do not get to talk to my son like that," Dawn shouted.

"I will talk to him however the fuck I want," Des argued back. He looked at his father. "Enjoy what little free time you have because I'm going to make sure you lose every fucking thing you worked hard to attain. You've hurt me all my life, and yeah, I cried over it, but I can tell my mother must have suffered just as much."

With that, he left, ignoring his father calling his name. Des didn't know why he had stood up for his mother like that when he knew she’d gone along with everything his father wanted. But thinking of Ava's face when she told him about their divorce made him feel that his mother was never strong enough to go against his father like he thought she was.

Des got in his car and pulled out his cellphone to call Othello, but paused his actions. He didn't need or want Othello to help him with this. Thanks to Erin, who had collected the information when she looked into his case, he had enough incriminating shit on his father to lock him up for a long time. But it made him wonder how they missed the fact that he’d had a fucking mistress for over twenty years.

"This better be good for you to call me on my day off," Erin said on the other end.

"How the fuck did you guys miss the mistress?" he asked Erin.

"What are you talking about? Who has a mistress?"

"My father. He's been seeing some woman for over twenty years and they even have a kid who works at the hospital."

"What? Wait, what's her name?"

Des sighed. "They called her Dawn."

"Dawn, Dawn," she chanted. "Let me look into it and get back to you."

"Erin, whatever you find, I want to take them down."

She was silent for a few minutes. "Don't do this out of anger," Erin warned.

"Erin, aren't you the one who told me you hate bullies? Well, my father is the biggest one of them all."

"What about your mother?"

"I don't feel sorry for her, but there's no reason for her to be caught up in my father's dealings. Who knew the man was so disgusting? I'm sure his other son has no idea what he's truly like."

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes, but I want it done strategically, not how those idiots on Benito Grant's campaign did it. I want his downfall to be slow and painful. Let my father think I forgot about him, and then bam , we bury him."

"Okay, we'll do what you want." Erin sighed. "But Des, what happened to you?"

He pressed his head into the headrest, closing his eyes. "I got tired, Erin. I don't want to be a pushover anymore."

"We'll meet at the cafe tomorrow at three."

"Okay."

Othello sighed and shrugged off his jacket as he entered the Romanos’ family home. Pulling off his coat and jacket, he dropped them over the railing as he made his way to the kitchen. He would have returned to his apartment, but he had work to do and knew it would take him into the night. He'd rescheduled the auction to a few months from now.

Walking into Alessandro's office, he stopped when he saw Iago sitting at his father's desk. They'd both been so busy they hadn't seen or even spoken to each other in days.

"I figured you'd show up here after the day you've had."

"So you heard?" Othello asked, moving over to the chair and sitting down.

"Nothing happens in this family that I don't know about." He looked at Othello seriously. "Are you ready for the consequences? We knew partnering with Falcon was also making a deal with Ricci and Greco since he was their ally."

"If a war is coming, then so be it," Othello said.

Iago smiled. "You're always steadfast in your words, and you have no regrets about your actions. Does your good doctor know how cruel you can be?"

"What I do for the family has nothing to do with Des."

"So the answer is no," Iago said. "How can you be yourself when he's never seen the real you?"

"Who says I'm not myself when I'm with him?" Othello shook his head, wondering why the conversation veered off into this topic. "I am me with the family and Des. I hide nothing."

"If you say so," Iago said. "Do you know who tipped off the cops?"

"If I knew that, I'm sure you'd have heard that they are already dead." He was happy that Iago changed the subject.

Othello got up and went to pour them both a drink. He shouldn't be drinking on an empty stomach, but after the day he had, he needed something to take the edge off his stress.

"I need to find out who is behind this, Iago." Othello sighed, sipping his whiskey.

"We will," Iago said, leaning back in the chair and swirling his drink. "I'll also set up a meeting with our allies; if we are to go to war with the commission, we must be prepared. I doubt they'll skip the warning or sanctions and go straight for taking you out."

What Iago said was true. The commission had rules for the families that could not be broken, and even though Romanos had been doing their own thing to acquire power, property, and resources, some were approved by the commission heads.

They did turn a blind eye to Rizzo, on that Falcon was right, but taking out an ally in the act of revenge was something that needed the commission's permission. Not to mention, he’d ordered the killing of a civilian, putting another red mark on the family. With those two actions, it might show strength, but his leadership could be called into question.

Putting the matter with the commission out of his mind, Othello studied Iago for a few minutes and could tell his brother had something on his mind.

"Everything alright with the twins?"

Iago beamed. "They are perfect little monsters who have taken over my heart."

"What about you and Emilia?"

"It's the same, if not worse," Iago said sadly. "She only talks to me when it has something to do with the twins. I know I fucked up, but she's forgiven me before."

Othello said nothing. He had no advice to give Iago to help him, so he simply poured them both another drink.

"I will win her back, I'm certain of it. Emilia loves me."

But do you want to love her? Othello mentally asked.

"Enough about me. Let's talk about you and your doctor," Iago said.

"My relationship with Des has nothing to do with you and Emilia."

"But can you trust him?" Iago asked.

Othello put his drink down, glaring at his brother. "What are you getting at?"

"I don't trust him," Iago stated firmly.

"Are you saying this because of what's happening with you and Emilia?"

"No," he answered. "I've just been thinking a lot lately.”

"That still doesn't prove why you don't trust Des." Othello took a deep breath, trying not to get angry. For whatever reason, Iago had a problem with Des. "What has he done to you?"

"I think he's bad news. Since you started seeing him, bad shit's been happening. I get that he saved your life, but knowing what I know now, I think he's working for the enemy."

"Take that shit back, right the fuck now," Othello growled.

"I knew you wouldn't believe me." He picked up his cellphone, started scrolling through it, then stopped and handed it to Othello. On the screen was a video of Des and Cassio Ricci standing far too close to each other, conversing. He couldn't hear them or read their lips to figure out what they were saying, but by the comfort in body language, it was evident it wasn't the first time they had met.

"How did you get this?" Othello asked, glancing at Iago and then back at the screen.

"You should know by now that if something is bugging me, I don't let it go until I have proof."

At times, Iago could be like a dog with a bone when he was fixated on something.

"I think Falcon was working with Ricci," Iago kept talking as Othello tried his damndest to figure out what the people on the screen were saying to each other. "The night we were ambushed, Falcon's cousin worked on you, then Ellington operated on you. Six months later, he shows up at our club and works his way into your life. I strongly believe Ricci sent him to spy on you. How else would he know about you going to the docks? Or about the weapons at the auction house? Didn't you take him there?"

He stopped the video and looked at Iago."You've put a lot of thought into this," he said.

"You don't sound convinced," sighed Iago.

"Honestly, no," Othello said. "Based on what you're saying, Des knew about all of my activities and made sure he would be on duty the night I got shot. It doesn't add up, Iago."

"How do you figure that?" Iago asked. Othello wasn't sure why he could feel tension from his brother when they were having a calm conversation.

"Des and I don't talk about family business." He shrugged his shoulders. "The leak is someone else."

"I don't believe it. How do you explain his relationship with Ricci?"

"What relationship?" Othello stood, shaking his head. "Just because you don't like Des, you're grasping at straws." He looked at Iago seriously. "I get you're trying to protect me because of Phillip. But for the last fucking time, they are not the same people. The more you talk about your lack of trust in Des when you don't even know him, the more I think you have ulterior motives. Don't make me think ill of you, Brother, so I'd advise you to drop it. Better yet, go home. You have your own relationship to worry about. Stay the fuck out of mine," Othello told him, no longer in the mood to listen to Iago's ramblings.

Iago stood and shook his head. "He's going to break your heart, O. And when he does, I'll be here."

Why the fuck isn't he listening! "Weren't you the one who told me to find someone to love? Why do you keep doubting him?" Othello snapped.

"Because he's not worthy of you. Okay, fine, you don't think he's working with Ricci. What about his father?"

"What about him?" Othello shouted, but Iago didn't back down.

"Are you an idiot?"

"Watch your words, Iago!" Othello growled.

"I won't," Iago argued back. "Someone has to knock some fucking sense into you. It's like when you get some ass, you forget you have responsibilities. You did the same thing with Phillip, and you're doing it with this guy. His father is running for senate, for god's sake. And by the looks of it, he'll win. What if your doctor tells him about us, and they bring everything we've built down? You can't tell me the raid on the auction house was a coincidence. After what just happened with Falcon, we're about to go head to head with the commission."

Iago pinched the bridge of his nose agitatedly. "You can't be distracted right now, O. Besides, are you sure he'll stay by your side when everything is said and done? You should dump him and find someone better before he does. Someone who wouldn't run to the cops the first time they see the real you. Let me set you up with someone, please, O. I'm just trying to protect my family."

"I heard everything you're saying, Iago, but there are a few things wrong with your logic." Othello sighed, reining in his anger. "One, there's no one better than Des. Two, there's no guarantee his father will win the Senate race. And three, I never have to ask Des if he'll choose me over his family because I know I will be his choice. What Des and I have cannot be compared to what I had with Phillip or anyone else. I'm not like you, Iago; I can't flit from one lover to the other when I know I have someone who loves me to hell and back."

"If you weren't my brother, I would punch the shit out of you for saying that," Iago spat.

"When has that stopped you," Othello shot back.

"Now, you have the power I don't have," Iago mumbled, but Othello heard him perfectly.

"What in the fuck are you talking about?" he asked, tightening his brows.

"You're in love with him," Iago said, not answering his question, but his face registered shock at the thought of Othello falling in love was a novelty.

"I am, and I am certain he loves me too," Othello said confidently.

"Have you told him?"

"No." He smiled. "I'm waiting for the perfect moment to tell him."

The tension that had enveloped them simmered, but he didn't want to deal with Iago anymore. He wanted to finish his work, head home, and sleep in his own bed, even though he still had a room at the Romanos' house.

"Go." Othello looked away from Iago.

Othello dropped in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. He didn't want to doubt Des, but he also didn't want to admit that some of what Iago said made sense; the shooting at the docks and the cops searching the auction house were the top two on his list. But as he told Iago, Des knew nothing about their family business.

Iago didn't know Des the way he did. Hell, his brother had never even spent a second with his lover, even after Des delivered the twins. If he didn't know how devoted Iago was to the family, Othello would think he was the one working against him. Shaking his head, Othello put a full stop to that thought. Iago might’ve been a bastard regarding his relationships, but family was very important to him, especially the one that rescued him. He appreciated Iago worrying about him, but Othello felt his brother should focus on his own relationship.

Late into the middle of the night, closer to the morning, Othello entered his apartment and instantly knew something was different. Although he didn't sense any danger, he didn't let his guard down.

He was about to reach for his gun but stopped when he noticed Des's coat thrown over the back of the sofa. A smile graced his tired lips. Des had planned to call him later, but this was a pleasant surprise. He removed his outer coat and jacket, threw it on Des's jacket, and headed to the bedroom.

Othello walked over to the bed and saw the lump on the bed. Slowly, he removed the cover and saw Des's sleeping face. When Othello trailed a finger down the bridge of his nose to the tip, Des scrunched it cutely. His long lashes trembled as his eyes tenderly opened, and he stared up at Othello with moist eyes.

"You're home?" he said in a sexy, sleepy voice.

"I am," he said, kissing him quickly. "I'm going to shower."

"No, come hold me," he said, pulling Othello to the bed. "I miss you."

Othello sighed, toeing off his shoes and allowing his lover to pull him easily to the bed, where Des snuggled into his arms. Although Othello was one of those people who had to shower before going to bed, he couldn't deny how comfortable he was at the moment. Or maybe he just enjoyed spoiling the former doctor.

"I can't say I'm unhappy to see you, but why are you here?"

"I needed a place to hide from my mother," Des responded groggily.

"What?" He sat up and looked at Des.

"Don't move," Des whined, pulling him back down and half-draping himself over Othello. "It's a long story I'll tell you in the morning. Now sleep."

Othello chuckled and held him tightly, listening to Des's soft snores as he drifted off to sleep.

Des groaned sleepily, wrinkling his brows as he slowly opened his eyes, expecting to wake up in his bedroom. Seeing the familiar dark red made him recall he'd shown up at Othello's place, needing somewhere safe to collect his thoughts and sanity after everything he had dealt with the day before. He was about to close his eyes and drift back to sleep when the scent of coffee reached his nose.

Othello, he thought, sitting up in bed. So it wasn't a dream. Des had sworn he was dreaming the night before when he felt Othello's presence. Giggling, he pushed the covers off and got out of bed, not even caring about his state of dress, and ran to the kitchen, stopping only for a second to watch Othello, who was standing at the stove with his back to him. Des hurried over, circling his arms around Othello's waist and burying his face in his rigid back.

"You're awake."

He hummed, feeling Othello's deep baritone voice vibrating on his face. They had only been separated for a day, but it felt like years. Lately, they hadn't been spending that much time together. Othello was always busy with family things, and Des was occupied with school, commissioned work, and now his mom. He just needed one day with his lover without any interruptions. Thinking of Ava, Des knew he had to meet with Erin later to discuss how to deal with his father.

"What's with all the sighing?" Othello asked.

"I was thinking about my mom," Des answered, pressing his cheek against Othello’s warm skin. He didn’t want to let go, but he knew he would have to eventually.

"That's a first. Holding me makes you think of a woman, and your mom at that." He chuckled.

"It's not like that," he told Othello, pouting. “I hoped to spend the day with you, but I have stupid errands." He went to say more, but his cellphone rang, and he knew he had to answer it because it could be his mother. Yesterday, after he returned to his apartment, she’d fussed over him. It was cute for about an hour until it became intolerable. He wasn't used to Ava's affection, and so when she fell asleep on the couch, he escaped to Othello's apartment.

"Are you going to answer that?" Othello asked.

"I don't want to. It's my mom," he whined.

"I really need to hear the story as to what's going on, but you need to get that; it might be an emergency."

"Fine," he groaned, releasing Othello and hurrying back to the bedroom to get his phone. He was surprised to see that it wasn’t his mother but Mr. Ricci, which caused Des to furrow his brows.

"Why is he calling me so early in the morning?" Des mumbled to himself. Des did not like Cassio Ricci. If it wasn't because he was trying to get his name out there as an artist, he would have told the man to fuck off.

Cassio Ricci always seemed to find Des wherever he was, as if he had a tracker on him. First, it was the time he bought him dinner, then at the grocery store, and the other day, it was the cafe Des liked to frequent. It was very annoying. Not to mention the sly touches or the flirting, which Des ignored or politely told him how much he loved his boyfriend. Des always smiled when he said Othello was his boyfriend.

"Everything alright with your mom?"

Des looked up when he heard Othello's question. "It wasn't her. It was a client. I missed his call. I’ll return it later."

Othello nodded. "Breakfast is ready. Go clean up."

"Okay." He threw his phone to the bed and then ran to the bathroom, grabbing his towel as he went for a quick shower.

Othello smiled and was about to head back to the kitchen when Des’s cellphone rang. He was going to ignore it, but that thought went out the window when he saw Cassio Ricci’s name on the screen. Othello frowned and reached for the ringing device. His finger hovered over the decline button, but it instantly moved over and answered the phone.

“How the hell did you get this number?” Othello growled.

Ricci chuckled, and it irritated Othello more than it should have. “It seems the little dove is keeping secrets.”

Between the business card, the videos, and now the phone call, Othello didn't have an explanation, and his curiosity was beyond piqued.

“Stay away from Des,” Othello snapped. “I know what you’re trying to do, and it won’t work. Keep ignoring my words, and I’ll make sure you pay dearly.”

Ricci laughed loud and hard as if Othello were a comedian. “I’m not afraid of you, Moor. Besides, I can’t stay away from your little doctor. He’s quite intriguing. In the beginning, I was going to use him to get you, but now, I want him for myself.”

“You really want me to put a bullet between your eyes.” Othello wanted to growl or smash something but held it together. “Heed my warning, Ricci. Come near Des again, and I’ll kill you.”

Othello hung up before Ricci could utter another annoying word. He threw Des’s phone back on the bed and went to the kitchen to grab his own cellphone, which rang as soon as he picked it up. Gratiano’s name flashed across the screen.

“Do you have time to meet tomorrow?”

“I take it you have something for me?” Othello asked.

“Yeah, and it’s not good, Othello."

“Alright, we’ll meet tonight at the usual place.”

"No, let's meet somewhere more private. I'm not coming alone," Gratiano said, causing Othello to furrow his brows.

"Who?"

"You'll see when we get there. Meet us at eight at the docks."

"Okay." Othello hung up just as Des entered and walked over to him, drying his hair that had gotten longer since they'd been together. He took Des's towel and finished up the job.

"Tesoro, there's something I need to ask you."

Des hummed, wrapping his arms around him. "Yeah, what is it?"

"What's your connection to Cassio Ricci?"

Des groaned. "He's my new and only client."

"Client?"

"Yeah." Des raised his head. "He's paying me a lot of money for a painting."

"How much is he paying you?"

"More than he should."

"I'll pay you double to drop him as a client," Othello said.

"What? Why?"

Othello draped the towel around Des's neck and looked Des in his eyes. "He doesn't care about the painting, Des. He's trying to seduce you to get to me."

Des furrowed his brows, stepping out of Othello's arms.

"What the hell do you have to do with this?"

"It's a game to him, Tesoro." Othello went over to the stove, grabbed the cooled pan with the vegetable frittata he had made for breakfast, and brought it to the table.

"Is that all you're going to say?" Des snapped.

"Sit down, and I'll explain things," he said to his lover, who seemed hesitant but did as Othello asked.

He plated the frittata, handed it to Des, and encouraged him to eat. "I say it's a game because he's done this before. The last person I thought I was in love with, Cassio seduced him. Most would say someone who didn't want to be seduced wouldn't have gone, and Phillip was very willing. I’m not sure how his wife put up with it, but Cassio paraded Phillip in front of me every chance he got." Othello smiled but felt no joy. "Now that we're together, he's playing the same games."

"Why would he do that?" Des asked.

"Because he hates me, Tesoro. He finds me unworthy of taking my father's place. Or it could be that he's been holding a grudge since high school.”

"What did you do?" Des asked.

"I beat his ass so bad he couldn't show his face for a few months." Othello smiled, recalling the memory. "Look, I don't like him either. Just stay away from him. Besides, you don't want to be the third wheel in his marriage or deal with his other lovers."

If Ricci thought no one knew he and Greco were fucking, they were both stupid. It was talked about, just not within ear’s distance of the two of them.

The silence dragged between them. "What happened to Phillip?"

"Honestly, I have no fucking clue. I broke off all contact with him after he fucked around on me. But not long after, he went missing. I think once Ricci realized that taking Phillip from me didn't affect me, he got rid of him." Othello looked at Des, who hadn't eaten a bite.

"When you say get rid of, you don't mean murder, right?"

"No other way to say it." Othello shrugged.

"I feel like I should be worried about how casually we're talking about someone killing another person. I don't want to be the kind of person who doesn't care about human life."

"This is why I don't discuss my family business with you, Des. I don't want to taint your view of the world or me. In my world, it's kill or be killed."

"I know," Des whispered.

"Stay away from him, Tesoro. I might not have cared that he stole Phillip, but with you, I will burn his world down if he touches one hair on your head in lust or anger."

Des remained silent, staring at him for a few long minutes before he spoke.

"Are you changing your mind about us?" Othello asked. He didn't want to admit how unsteady his heart was beating in his chest, waiting for Des to answer. If Des wanted to walk away from him, he would let him, but Othello knew it would break him.

Des shook his head. "No," he said. "I want to be with you, no matter what. You warned me you're not a good man. I know you hide that part of yourself from me, and I might not be ready to hear about your day, but I want to be your comfort, just as much as you bring me comfort."

Othello smiled. "You are. More than you know."

"You love me, don't you?" Des uttered softly, looking down at the table.

Othello stood and approached Des, reaching for his hand. He pulled him from his seat, circling his arms around his waist, and held him flush against his body. "If burning worlds down wasn't an indication, then let me be clear. I love you, Desmond Ellington."

Des's eyes glistened, becoming wet. "I might not have your powerful influence, but I feel the same way, Othello Romano-Moor. I love you too."

"I hope you don't regret saying that." Othello pressed his forehead to his.

"I won't." Des smiled, leaning up to kiss him.

They held each other for a few minutes, then sat down to eat. Just as they were finishing up, a knock came at the door. Des went to answer it while Othello cleared away the dishes. He returned a few seconds later, with Luca Rossetti following behind him. Othello knew why he was here. He was being summoned to appear before the commission.

And so it began. "When?" he asked Luca before he could take another step further and Des could say anything.

"You have one week," Luca responded as his eyes trailed to Des.

"How gracious of him to give me so much time," Othello said sarcastically.

He knew what that meant: the commission was planning on killing him, but they were giving him time to get his shit in order as they would say, an eye for an eye, only on their timeline. Yet, they would realize it was a mistake to take so long to kill him, and he wasn't going down so easily or without a fight.

"Where?"

"The Black Anchor." Just hearing the name of the place, they are certainly planning on killing me. Everyone knew that the warehouse was where the commission did most of their killings.

"I take it you were the one to suggest that place?"

"Yeah. Look, Othello, if..."

"Don't get involved, Luca," Othello said, cutting him off. "Tell your masters I will be there."

Luca didn't have a comeback, knowing that his family could not oppose the Ricci and Greco families. They willingly adhered to the commission rules that kept their families in line, like giving half their profits to the two prominent families. Meanwhile, the Romano family went against them, wanting to change the system.

“If you become the head of the commission, Don Rossetti is willing to give you one-third of his property,” Luca said.

“Why?” Othello asked.

“For protection. He wants to go legit.”

“And you? What do you want?” Othello asked, staring at his once-friend.

“I will follow him to the end,” Luca said, not looking away.

“Very well, I will take his request under consideration,” Othello said after a few moments.

Having nothing else to say, Luca simply nodded and left.

"Want to tell me what that was all about?" Des asked when the door closed behind Luca.

"More game," he said as a simple explanation. "Just promise me you won't see Cassio Ricci anymore."

"I can after I give him his money back."

"Let me do it for you." Othello smirked.

"You're going to cause trouble, aren't you?" Des said, squinting his eyes.

"Just a little." He chuckled.

"I don't believe you."

Othello pulled him into his arms. "Tesoro, I will never lie to you."

"Good."

Their lips met in a heated kiss, and Othello enjoyed the moment, forgetting about everything else as he dragged Des to the couch and made love to him, loving the sounds of his gasps and moans when he buried his cock deep inside of his Tesoro.