Milo's arms gave out on the fifteenth push-up, his whole body collapsing flat onto the floor with a groan that made half the guards laugh under their breath. He used to do this every morning, when Salvatore's men trained him alongside their own routines.
His body could still handle a hundred push-ups without complaint before. But it had been weeks now. Weeks since he'd trained like this, and his muscles had gone soft and unused. On top of that, his body was still recovering from everything Salvatore had done to him only an hour ago.
His arms shook violently as he tried to push himself up one more time, and his hole throbbed with a deep, radiating ache that made him wince every time his hips shifted.
Everything hurt. His shoulders, his back, his thighs, and worst of all, low in his body where Salvatore had claimed him so thoroughly.
