10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

ELIO

“Turn left at the next light,” Orion says, his voice deep and gruff. I’d like to think it’s from the kiss, if you can even call it that. It feels like an insult to lump what he just did to me with his lips and tongue back in that seedy parking lot in with the cursory, obligatory trading of spit with someone before you can fuck them.

I dart my tongue out and drag it along my bottom lip, greedy for another taste of him. Unfortunately, I’ve already licked it all away.

“I know where you live,” I assure him, taking the turn when I reach the light and switching lanes, so I’ll be ready for the next one that’s only one more block up.

“That’s right. You’ve been stalking me for months.” He says it so matter-of-factly that I can’t help but sputter a laugh.

“I wouldn’t say stalking. Stalking implies a certain amount of…”

“Obsession,” Orion supplies, and fine, maybe he’s not wrong.

I chuckle again and glance over at him, my cock still rock hard from letting him dominate my mouth, my head swirling with questions about everything else that went down at the motel and how he feels about it. But I’m not sure how to ask. “ Hey, how are you feeling about watching me shoot a man in the head? ” just doesn’t feel like the right approach.

I ease my foot off the gas as we near his building. Does he want me to drop him off? Or does he want me to come inside so he can finish what he started? There’s an electric kind of anticipation in not knowing which, and in leaving the decision in his hands. I want to follow him inside, strip bare, and let him use me to work out the deep wells of rage and desperation inside of him. But only if he tells me to. I want the growled command more than I’ve ever wanted anything.

“Park there,” he says, pointing at a spot not far from the door. I do as he says, claiming the empty spot and putting the Jag into park. Her engine purrs as it idles, my hands lingering on the wheel, waiting for his next demand. “I can’t promise it’s safe to leave a car this nice in a neighborhood like this,” he warns.

“I don’t give a fuck about the car, Boss. If you want me to hand the keys over to the first crackhead who walks by, I’ll do it and I’ll just buy another stupid, overpriced hunk of metal on four wheels tomorrow.”

An annoyed sound rumbles in Orion’s throat and he reaches over to turn the key, killing the engine.

“There you go again, all mindless privilege and fucking spoiled bullshit.” The hard edge in his voice is different from how it was before—less dangerous, less… seething . But it has the same effect, sending electric jolts down my spine and heat skittering over my skin. My cock twitches and I shift in my seat.

He flings open the passenger door and stuffs my keys into his pocket as he climbs out.

“Come on, Brat,” he barks.

I scramble out after him, my mouth going dry, a pathetic whimper rising in my throat. I’m vaguely aware that someone might recognize me, but it’s impossible to care what they might see or think when every ounce of my energy is being spent on keeping myself upright as I hurry after Orion. He’s a few steps ahead of me the whole way, pausing to hold the door just long enough for me to follow him inside. He jogs up the stairs to the second floor, not stopping to look over his shoulder or slowing to make sure I’m still behind him. It’s like he couldn’t care less if I’m coming or not, and fuck if that doesn’t make me reach for my throbbing cock as I race up the steps behind him.

I take in the peeling wallpaper in the hallway and the rat trap laid on the landing at the top of the stairs without really seeing them. The faint, muffled sounds of TVs playing and conversations being had come and go as I pass each apartment door on the way down the hallway. I finally catch up to him when he stops to unlock his door, inserting his key into three different locks before pushing it open and stepping inside.

The floor creaks under my shoes as I step in after him and close the door behind me. A stale smell of mold lingers in the air, just managing to overpower the distinct scent of Orion that fills the apartment. I’m curious what his place is like. What type of furniture did he pick out? Is he the Spartan kind of decorator or will there be personal touches that give me the chance to know him better? But I barely have the chance to let my eyes adjust to my surroundings before he spins towards me and wraps his fist around my tie to drag me in for another punishing kiss.

I stumble into him, bracing my hands on his chest, bunching the soft material of his t-shirt in my fists. He yanks on my tie with one hand and tangles the other in my hair. My cock heaves and jerks, a whimper tightening my throat.

“You know what, Brat?” he murmurs against my lips between biting kisses. “I think I feel bad for you. You’ve probably never appreciated a damn thing in your life, have you?”

My brain stutters over the question. If this is supposed to be dirty talk, I have to admit it’s… confusing. The condescending undertone is definitely doing it for me though. Luckily, he doesn’t wait for me to work out an answer. He keeps talking as he drags me down the hallway by my hair and tie.

“When everything is easy and everything is disposable, it’s impossible to give a fuck about any of it. How do you think it feels to want something and know you can’t have it?”

Orion shoves his tongue back into my mouth and I shiver. I try to imagine the desperation of what he’s describing. I want to tell him that’s exactly how I’ve been craving him for months now, with a hopeless, urgent greed that didn’t feel like it would ever be sated. But deep down, there’s always been part of me that knew I could wear him down. Every time he looked at me with burning contempt in his eyes, it just made me more determined to have him.

“Do you have any idea how sweet it feels to get your hands on something you were sure was out of reach?” he goes on, pulling me through the door to his bedroom and turning us around so my back is to his bed.

The space is so small that it only takes two shuffling steps before I’m tumbling onto the bed, my scalp stinging and my lungs burning for deep breaths I can hardly manage to gulp down. Orion towers over me, standing next to the bed and looking at me with a predatory gleam in his eyes that has my hand twitching towards my cock. He knocks it back with a reflexive slap before I get anywhere near it.

He braces a hand on the bed next to my head, the other still wrapped around my tie, pulling it tight around my throat, and leans in until his nose is half an inch from mine. “I’m going to show you how it feels to be fucking desperate, Elio.”

The threatening growl in his voice tightens around my balls and makes my cock leak, precum spilling hot and sticky inside my briefs. My hips jerk up, and I groan when I make contact with the hard shape of his erection. Orion flattens himself against me, pinning me to the bed with the weight of his body, brushing his lips over mine again without actually kissing me.

“Strip, Brat,” he demands before pushing off me, leaving me feeling cold without his body heat surrounding me.

Orion unwinds my tie from around his knuckles and then crosses his arms, staring down at me expectantly, both eyebrows raised, an almost bored look on his face, like he cares less about getting me naked than he does about making me do as he says. Humiliation heats my face and another slick burst of precum dampens my underwear. I reach up with trembling fingers to undo my tie first.

It’s wrinkled, and the knot is compressed enough that it takes both hands for me to undo it. Once I have it off, he holds his hand out. I hand it over and Orion grunts and nods, a wordless demand to keep going. I kick off my shoes, letting them fall one at a time next to the bed, before I shrug off my jacket and unstrap my holster. Then, I start to work open the buttons on my shirt one by one.

The room is silent except for the sound of our breathing and the white noise of traffic from the street below. Several tendrils of hair broke loose from the messy bun on top of his head at some point, giving him a wild look that matches the untamed glint in his eyes, both completely at odds with the disinterested mask he’s holding in place.

My breathing ratchets up with every inch of skin I expose, but Orion’s stays steady, his eyes tracking my progress as my shirt slowly falls open. I tug it loose from my pants and finish the last few buttons, then shrug it off the same way I did with my jacket. I reach for my belt next, and he holds his hand out for that too. I hand it over, the metal jangling as he wraps his fist around it. I bite my lip against a groan as I unzip my pants, the vibration of the zipper over my overeager shaft almost enough to make me embarrass myself. I hook my fingers in my pants and underwear, dragging them down at the same time, lifting my hips off the bed then kicking them the rest of the way off when they’re low enough.

He drags his gaze over my exposed body, bare and completely on display in the harsh light of his bedroom. My thighs tremble slightly, spread so he can stand between them, my cock stiff and leaking against my belly, my nipples pebbled but half hidden by my dark chest hair. I squirm against the urge to cover myself when his attention gets to be too much and not enough at the same time. I want him to touch me. I want him to tell me he hasn’t stopped thinking about me since I deep throated his cock in that seedy fucking bathroom. I want him to call me a brat again, flip me over, and spank my ass so hard I cry. But he doesn’t do any of that. He just stares .

I squirm and make an impatient noise. A slow, devious grin spreads over his lips, and my breath catches in my throat.

ORION

The wide-eyed look of worry on Elio’s face is almost as satisfying as the drip, drip, drip of precum pooling on his stomach. His cock flexes and another whiny sound vibrates past his lips. I let out a low, dangerous chuckle and crawl onto the bed to straddle him, holding myself over him with my legs on either side of his hips. His dick jerks again, bumping against my aching balls.

Elio moans and reaches for me, groping at my chest, tugging on my t-shirt, groaning, and writhing underneath me. I bite back another laugh. If he’s this impatient already, he’s in for a long night. I wrap his belt around his wrist, pulling the end through the loop and tugging it tight. He stills, his lips parting and his breath catching.

“What…”

“I already told you,” I say gruffly, grabbing his other hand and wrapping it in the belt too. “I’m going to show you what it’s like to want something and not be able to have it. I’m going to teach your spoiled, privileged ass how much better things are when you’ve had to hurt for them first.”

His pupils widen and his cheeks turn pink. With both of his hands bound, I yank on the loose end of the belt, forcing him to awkwardly worm his way up the bed, pushing with his feet, doing his best to scramble fast enough to keep up with me. I slip the end between the posts of the headboard and secure him to it.

Elio tugs at it, testing the strength of his restraints. If he were really trying to get loose, it probably wouldn’t be enough, but it’ll do for tonight’s purposes. I climb off him and take a second to admire the sight of him bound to my bed, horny, helpless . His gun is lying, still strapped into his holster, near the foot of the bed. If I wanted him dead, it would be the easiest thing in the world. He must know that too, but he let me tie him up anyway.

The life and death stakes of his trust adds an addictive sweetness to his submission that sears its way through my veins and rearranges things inside of me. Things that were probably better left where they were, but can’t be pushed back now that they’ve shifted. I palm my cock through my sweatpants and imagine a world where Elio isn’t who he is, a world where he’s just a man who’s hungry for my violence without all the other complications.

“Okay, I’m desperate, can you do something now?” he pants.

I smirk, then run my tongue over my teeth with a tut .

“You don’t know the meaning of desperate yet.” I let go of my cock and lean over him, brushing my lips lightly over the tight, hard nub of his nipple. I flick it with my tongue, savoring the gasp he lets out and the quickening of his breath, then I bite down hard, tugging it roughly between my teeth until he screams before I release it. “But you will,” I promise.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, putting his feet flat on the bed and arching his hips, fucking the air without any relief.

I stand back up and wipe the back of my hand over my lips. Then, I start to gather up his scattered clothes, taking my time folding each item and placing them on top of my dresser. I take care with his gun, setting it on top of everything else. The creak of my bedsprings and the moody little huffs he lets out every so often only convince me to move slower, not just picking up his clothes, but leisurely tidying the small space as if I don’t have a mob boss tied to my bed.

“Orion,” Elio spits my name through clenched teeth, and I look at him over my shoulder while I straighten up my underwear drawer.

“Did you want something?” I ask, arching my eyebrow and ignoring the steady throb in my cock.

“Yes,” he hisses.

“Oh?” I slide the drawer closed. “And what’s that?”

“You. Your cock. Your… something .” He bucks and tugs at the belt around his wrists.

“Hm. Now that you mention it, I could use a little… relaxation.” I open the next drawer down and push aside my t-shirts to grab the bottle of lube and the toy I keep stashed inside. I’ve lived alone for years now, but the habit of hiding sex toys seems to have stuck with me anyway.

I toss them onto the foot of the bed and Elio moans, his cock flexing and twitching, the tip a deep color that makes my own dick throb with sympathy. I peel my shirt off and toss it aside. Taking a slow step towards the bed, I hook my fingers around the waistband of my pants, watching the way his chest flutters with every heavy breath. Every one of the strangled sounds he makes belongs to me. The swollen dampness of his lips belongs to me too. The slick of precum trickling into his belly button is mine . The heady power of it all makes me want to call off the game in favor of climbing on top of him and rutting wildly. But where’s the fun in that? Besides, he really does need a lesson in desperation.

I shove my pants and underwear down in one motion and step out of them. My heavy cock sways between my legs as I climb onto the bed again, straddling him in the same position as before. He bucks his hips, his cock bumping against my balls again. The slick head of his cock dragging over my tight, sensitive sac makes my eyelids flutter. I moan and wrap my hand around the base of my erection, holding myself up on my knees so it’s impossible for him to do anything more than tease himself by thrusting against me.

I reach for the lube and the soft, rubbery cock sleeve on the foot of the bed. Elio holds his breath, his muscles quivering and his chest fluttering with stuttered breaths as he watches me open the bottle of lube and drizzle it onto my cock.

“Fuck me. Please, Orion, Boss, please. Fuck…” he pleads, the metal on the belt rattling with his thrashing, his stomach hollowing and expanding.

“Is that what you want?” I taunt him, wrapping my fingers around my shaft again and stroking myself slowly, spreading the lube from root to tip, teasing my thumb over the head with each upstroke. “You want my cock stretching your hole? You want me to pound you until I fill you up with my cum?”

Elio bobbles his head. “Yes. Yes. Please .”

I bare my teeth in another smirk and brace a hand on the pillow, leaning in to bring my lips right next to his ear.

“Then I’m going to give you an answer that probably no one in your life has ever given you before,” I whisper. “No.” I nip at his earlobe, and he howls.

I sit back up and grab the cock sleeve. I don’t want to admit how many times I’ve used it since the first time Elio sucked me off. I jerked myself off with it over and over, until my balls were sore and my cock was raw, thinking about the mouthy criminal who’s now tied up beneath me.

The soft, textured silicone stretches around my cock as I shove myself inside of it with a moan. The throaty sound Elio makes is half lust, half outrage, like he can’t believe I’m fucking a toy when his ass is on offer. Honestly, that makes two of us.

I grit my teeth and hold his gaze as I stroke myself faster and faster, the wet, sloppy sound of the lubed toy on my cock almost loud enough to overtake the grunts and groans rumbling in both our chests and the squeak of the bedsprings.

“You’re going to watch me cum, Brat,” I growl. “You’re going to whimper and moan for me while I spill inside this toy instead of inside you. And then you’re going to go home and you’re going to think about how badly you want it. You’re going to think about it until you go half insane from it.”

“Please,” he begs, the word coming out as a desperate sob.

“No,” I say again, taking pleasure in denying him, but also in the way his expression contorts in ecstasy, like he’s getting off just as much on being denied.

I tighten my grip around the toy and dig my fingers into the pillow next to his head, huffing and groaning, jerking my hips to fuck into the toy, imagining that it is Elio’s ass, hot and tight around my cock. My orgasm crashes into me without much warning, punching a moan from my chest as my balls constrict and my cock starts to pulse.

I flatten myself on top of Elio and sink my teeth into the corded muscles of his neck, my knuckles and the back of my hand dragging over his cock as I stroke myself through the waves of pleasure. He lets out a strangled cry, and hot, sticky ropes of his release paint the back of my hand and cling to the outside of the cock sleeve.

We grind together until we’re both breathless and spent, with cum clinging to both of us, and dripping out of the toy. I slip it off my cock and toss it aside. Then, I drag my fingers through the pools of Elio’s cum streaked across both of our bellies.

His eyes are only open to slits, but he parts his lips obediently when I bring my finger near them. I push my finger into his mouth, pressing it against his hot, wet tongue as he licks it clean. He makes a quiet, greedy noise when I slip it free again, glistening with his saliva.

I reach up to loosen the belt from around his wrists, examining the red marks it left behind. I frown and massage my thumb over the angry red indent on his left wrist, seeing if it will fade.

“I’m fine,” he mumbles, sounding half drunk and faraway. He flexes his fingers, like he’s trying to prove there’s no damage done.

“It looks like you’ll have bruises for at least a few days.” The satisfaction in my voice makes it impossible for him to mistake the statement for an apology. I like the idea of Elio walking around with marks under his clothes more than I should. I like it enough to want to bite him in a few more places before I let him out of my bed.

“Good,” he echoes my thoughts, slightly more alert this time, his voice raw and rasping.

Without thinking, I draw his wrist to my lips and press a kiss against the bruise. Then, I do the same to the other, scraping my teeth over it for good measure before releasing him. Elio’s breath catches and he squirms under me again.

Maybe I’ll keep him here another couple of hours, tie him up again once we’ve both recovered and drill the lesson into his head one more time. Maybe I should just leave the Mafia brat bound to my headboard until I’ve turned him into an upstanding citizen. I choke back a snort at the thought. It would be like chaining a tiger to a radiator and hoping to turn it into a house cat. You can only keep it as long as it’s willing to be kept. I wonder how long Elio would stay.

And maybe he’s right that his brutality is all that’s standing between this city and a much worse fate than the Morettis. How the fuck should I know? I’m just one man wildly throwing punches to keep my head above water. It’s possible that’s all Elio is doing too.

“I… should probably go.”

His words startle me. It’s not like I expected him to beg to stay the night and cuddle, but we’ve barely caught our breath and he’s already making his escape. I’m sure he’d rather be home in his shiny fucking penthouse than all tangled up in my cheap sheets that might as well be made of sandpaper compared to whatever million thread count bullshit he has on his own bed. I chafe at the thought, battling between the urge to show him the door if he’s so eager to get away, or to pin him down and refuse to let him leave until I’m good and ready.

I grind my teeth and flex my fingers roughly around his wrists before releasing him.

“Yeah,” I grunt, climbing off of him.

Neither of us say a word as he gets dressed. I’m being the petulant brat now, pouting silently as I watch him pull on one piece of clothing at a time, covering up the miles of skin I’ve barely had a chance to explore. He looks up at me as he buttons his shirt, his hands steady now, in contrast to the way they trembled earlier when he fumbled to undo each one. Elio opens his mouth, then closes it again.

“Spit it out,” I demand, my teeth still clenched together.

He shakes his head and finishes with his shirt. I growl under my breath. If he were really mine, I’d grab him by the hair and drag him back to bed, then spank him until whatever words are stuck on his tongue came spilling out. But he’s not. At least… I don’t think he is.

I huff and shake my head, more at myself than at Elio as he silently does up his wrinkled tie, putting himself back together like tonight didn’t even happen.

Maybe it’s a good thing he’s leaving. My head isn’t on straight at all, and it’s not going to get there as long as he’s here, spinning it around over and over. A few hours ago, I thought he was the devil incarnate, and now… now I don’t know what the fuck I think.

Once he’s dressed, I walk him out of my bedroom and back down the short hallway to my door, hoping he isn’t spending too much time looking at the sad state of my apartment. Would he be able to tell that my couch was fished out of the trash just by looking at it? I don’t know, and I don’t really want to find out. The last thing I need is for Elio to think I’m the one who needs to be taken care of.

He stops with his hand on the doorknob, dragging his free hand through his hair and looking back at me over his shoulder.

“Would you meet me somewhere tomorrow?”

“Where?” My shoulders tighten at the thought of another outing like the one we had tonight.

“The Starlight. It’s a bar on—”

“I know where it is,” I cut him off. “I’ll…” I clear my throat. He’s already managed to pull me in deeper than I should have let him. Like quicksand. “I’ll think about it.”

Elio nods. “I’ll be there at six,” he says, before opening the door and slipping out without another word, leaving me alone in my apartment feeling like I’ve been KO’d, with my head swimming and my ears ringing. Am I going to meet him tomorrow?

I have no fucking clue.