Chapter 25
Leandro never closed his eyes. He came close a couple times, lashes flickering when a thrust would scrape across his prostate in just the right way, or my fingertips skimmed over his increasingly sweaty skin, but each one was thwarted by his own sense of control. He was not going to look away from me. I knew that without him ever uttering a word. And in the face of such inner strength, my respect for him grew. As did the desire to see that control finally shatter.