Nero - Revenge never tasted better

Chapter 13 - The Crown of Deceit

My groans harmonized with the morning sunlight that slinked through the parted curtains, a relentless intrusion. The unfamiliarity of the room only compounded the throbbing ache in my head. It dawned on me that I was within the confines of Eric's residence, likely occupying the guest chamber. The repercussions of the prior night's revelry slithered into my consciousness, reminiscent of a relentless tide. It felt as though I had collided headlong with a speeding locomotive. Memories of the party were hazy, and flashes of the night's wild events flickered through my mind like a broken projector.

It all started when Charlie and Thomas had been embarrassingly shown the door.  Eric had turned to me with a glint in his eyes that said mischief was on his mind. "Nero, are you up for cranking up the heat and getting a taste of how we party Spanish-style?" he had asked with that damn grin.

And so, the two of us embarked on a direct trajectory toward the bar. Shots were summoned with an almost reckless abandon, their cascade akin to a torrential waterfall—five rounds, each comprising a prodigious twenty shots. Tequila, with its fiery ardor, coursed down my throat, kindling an inferno that mirrored the exuberance of the event.

Flashes of laughter and cheers echoed in my mind as Eric and I had dared each other to drink more, pushing the limits of our tolerance. Then, like a wave crashing over me, the memory of body shots hit. Our heated bodies moulded together, flesh against flesh, as the fervent intoxication of the spirits had blurred the demarcation between camaraderie and an unquenchable yearning. The scent of him, a heady concoction of musk and passion, ensnared my senses, heightening the electric charge that pulsed through the air.

My lips had brushed against the salt-dusted expanse of his chest, a teasing prelude to what was to come. With a breathless sigh, I had descended, my tongue tracing a heated path along the lines of his abdomen. Desire and exhilaration had merged into an intoxicating concoction as I had reached the destination of the shot.

But it wasn't just the taste that had ignited my senses—it was the intimacy of the act itself. Our bodies pressed together, the friction between us setting the air ablaze.

As the night continued, inhibitions had melted away with each passing drink. Eric's laughter had been infectious, and soon we found ourselves on the dance floor. Our bodies had locked in an alluring rhythm that mirrored the pulse of the music. Our movements had become a provocative choreography, drawing the attention of the room as we were breaking all the codes.

Eric's strong hands had settled possessively on my hips, his touch setting my skin ablaze. I had responded with a seductive sway of my hips, a playful grind against him that had stirred the electric chemistry between us. As our bodies had swayed and rocked, a provocative intimacy had enveloped us and his fingers had flexed against my skin, his hold unyielding as the world around us faded into a sultry haze.

As the tempo had quickened, I had allowed myself to lose control further. His hands had ventured lower, boldly cupping the curve of my ass, the heat of his touch searing through the fabric.

The intoxicating sensation of him against me, his hardness pressed just right, sent bolts of awareness coursing through my veins.

Coke had made an appearance, and the night took an even wilder turn, as we had joined a few guest that had decided to follow our example and engage in the debauchery.

The lines we had crossed were blurred, as we had laughed, talked, and danced with a freedom that was intoxicating. The connection between us had deepened, fuelled by a shared recklessness that knew no bounds.

Groggily, I peeled myself off the bed, the soft sheets slipping off my skin as I stood up and my body protesting every movement. The room swayed briefly, like a ship navigating tempestuous waters, and I anchored myself by pressing a palm against the cool wall. The ache that pervaded me demanded solace, a plea for aspirin or even the mythical intervention of a time-traveling contraption to undo the tempestuous night that had left me in a state of disarray.