13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

ELIO

All I can hear is the ragged sound of my own breathing and the crunch of gravel under my Louboutin Oxfords as I sprint down the alleyway. The buildings are too tall to let much light filter into the space between them, other than the stray glow from the few windows that overlook the dumpsters and loading bays. My eyes manage to adjust anyway, pulling in just enough light in the darkness to make out the shape of a scrawny cat that darts out of a trash bin and sprints in the opposite direction.

I can taste the lingering flavor of Orion’s mouth on mine, the growl of the word run echoing in my brain—a command, and a threat… The best kind of foreplay. The buildings part and I see the mouth of another street only a handful of yards ahead. My heart is pounding wildly, all my animal instincts telling me to run faster, spurring me away from the danger closing in behind me. It doesn’t matter that I want to be caught, that my cock is hard and my balls are heavy, that my skin is tingling and desperate to be marked up with more bruises in the shape of his fingers and teeth. Something primal deep inside my brain ignores all of that, chanting a frantic drumbeat of faster and flee and go, go, go .

I can’t hear his footsteps over the rush of blood in my ears, but I know he’s close, and getting closer. I know in my bones, even without looking over my shoulder or pausing to listen for him, that Orion is eating up the distance between us with ease. I’ve never bothered to think much about the pinch of my shoes around my toes or the lack of traction on the smooth soles, meant for clicking impressively against marble floors and polished hardwood, not scrambling down filthy back streets paved with loose gravel. I’ve never chased anyone and I’ve sure as hell never run from anyone, so this is the first time I’ve had any reason to notice how restrictive a suit is in a situation like this. Orion has the right shoes. He has clothes that move with him instead of wrapping around his limbs to restrain him. I’m running on the adrenaline of a gut-deep fear, while he’s spurred on by the thrill of the chase. Hunter and prey, and I’m as desperate to be caught as I am to get away.

I push myself faster, my legs burning with the effort to reach the safe haven of the light up ahead. Cars zoom by and people walk past the gap between the buildings without looking into the darkness. Not just not looking, but actively avoiding turning their heads in my direction. Is it a defense mechanism? Are they afraid of what they might see if they glance down the alleyway? I guess that’s how most people survive, by pretending the ugly parts of life don’t exist as best they can. I’ve never had that luxury, and I don’t think Orion has either.

I stumble over something. A flattened cardboard box maybe? I can’t tell and it doesn’t matter. What matters is that in the split second it takes me to catch myself, Orion closes the last few steps between us. His hand clamps down firmly over my mouth, muffling the instinctive, panicked sound that rises in my throat as his other arm snakes around my midsection. He’s not a huge man with muscles for days, but after seeing him fight, it’s no surprise that he knows exactly how to use his body. He’s spent years training, learning how to capitalize on his strengths and overpower someone with ease.

In one swift movement, Orion presses me up against the side of the building, the rough brick biting into my hands when I put them up to brace myself. His body flattens against mine, his chest to my back, both rising and falling with the heavy breaths we gulp down, the hard shape of his erection finding its way into the crease of my ass. Heat radiates off of him, the smell of cheap whiskey and even cheaper soap filling my nose and overpowering the stink of the alley.

I part my lips and flick my tongue against the palm of his hand. He tightens his grip, his fingers biting into my cheek, a growl vibrating against my back. I suck in shallow breaths through my nose, my heart hammering wildly.

“Look what we have here.” His lips brush my earlobe, his hot breath tickling my skin. “A lost brat.” I gasp at the sharp sting of his teeth dragging against my ear and squirm uselessly.

He presses into me harder, pinning me to the wall with nowhere to go and no leverage to fight him off. In this position, I couldn’t even reach my gun if I wanted to. That realization sends an electric thrill down my spine, waking up all my nerve endings with a fresh shot of fear and adrenaline. Orion chuckles, the sound dark and dangerous, punctuated with another sharp bite just below my ear this time.

He scrapes his teeth along the curve of my jaw and grinds his thick erection between my ass cheeks. Even through our clothes, I can feel the heat of it, the eager throb that will flutter and pulse inside me if he’ll just drop the denial bullshit and fuck me.

“Is that what a privileged brat like you is doing in a dark, dangerous alley? Are you looking to get roughed up and fucked?” he murmurs, his low voice full of gravel.

He keeps his hand over my mouth, making it clear he’s not looking for a real answer. Under the guise of the game, it’s easy to pretend he doesn’t care what I want, that he’s going to take whatever he wants regardless. Maybe he’s even convinced himself that’s true. I give in to that filthy fantasy, whimpering and thrashing, putting up a fight to break free and relishing the feeling of his arm tightening around me.

My cock aches and I claw at the wall, the sting of the sharp brick tearing at my palms and fingertips turning everything else up a few more notches. Every humid puff of Orion’s breath on my skin, the sound of traffic and voices only a few feet away, the weight of his arousal crushed into the crease of my ass, the lingering taste of his tongue on mine. My lungs burn and I thrash again.

None of it does anything to dislodge him though. All I’m accomplishing by resisting him is tiring myself out. I let out a stifled laugh against his palm. He’s doing to me exactly what he does in the ring, letting me spend all the adrenaline and fight inside of me while he waits me out. I sag into the wall with another muffled groan, my eyelids fluttering. It feels just as good to give in to the weight of his body and the strength of his hold on me as it did to thrash against it.

“Come on, you’re not giving up that easily, are you?” Orion taunts, dragging his tongue along the back of my neck and reaching for my belt. The mockery in his tone is exactly the right amount of degrading, making me feel pathetic and horny. I want to beg him to fuck me and hide my face in shame at the same time. Except he can’t see my face, not in the dark, not in this position where I’m pressed against the building.

The metallic clink of my belt buckle sounds unnaturally loud, even over the ragged noise of his breathing right next to my ear. My cock jerks and throbs, and I dig deep to find some more fight in me, flailing and sinking my teeth hard into his palm as he unzips my pants. Orion yelps and then chuckles again, the sound warm and rich, pure sex dripping from every vibrating note.

“That’s better,” he praises, biting me right back, his teeth sinking sharply into the back of my neck, right where he licked me a few seconds ago. “Make no mistake about it, Brat, I’m going to fuck you. But I don’t want you to make it easy. Where’s the fun in it if you just spread your cheeks and beg for my cock without any fight?”

The moan that rattles through me comes from deep in my gut. I’m glad his hand is over my mouth, because being told not to beg for it has the exact opposite effect on me. Pleas are right on the tip of my tongue. If I could talk, I would embarrass myself by offering him anything to put his dick inside of me. Money, a fancy car, a nicer apartment, anything if he’ll just fuck me. I buck in vain against him again, desperate to feel him overpower me, eager to give him exactly what he’s asking for, and so fucking impatient I want to scream. And, since my mouth is covered, I do just that. I wail into his hand, letting go of the tight coil of control inside of me that keeps me cool and collected at all times, unleashing the wild, animal thing inside of me that just wants to shout and fight and feel without judgment or expectation.

“Fuck, Elio.” Orion groans quietly. My name on his lips feels like being tased, my body jerking with an electric jolt. “You’re fucking beautiful, and I’m trying to remember to hate you for it.” He says it between clenched teeth, even lower than the first sentence. It’s like he’s talking to himself more than to me, but I hear every word.

He yanks my pants and underwear down around my thighs, leaving me feeling exposed in spite of the shadows shrouding us. He unwinds his arm from around my waist and, in one swift movement, brings his hand down hard against my bare ass. The cracking sound is loud, echoing off of the buildings and reverberating in my ears, and I let out another untethered sound into his palm. The heat of the slap resounds through me, rattling my insides and making my cock jerk.

Something crinkles, and I’m not sure what it is until the cold, slick dribble of lube runs down my crack. I gasp and squirm again, sweat trickling down the back of my neck the same way the lube slithers its way towards my hole.

Orion’s fingers follow the same path, starting at the top of my crease and stroking between my ass cheeks, gathering lube on their way to my hole. I’m acutely aware of where we are, of the fact that anyone could come down this alley at any time, and I couldn’t possibly care less as long as he just keeps touching me. I grunt and moan into his hand, giving up the ruse of fighting to get away from him in favor of shoving my ass towards him. His fingertips glance over my rim, slippery and warm, just as necessary for my continued survival as my next breath.

“Maybe I’m all wrong about you. I see your expensive clothes and all the nice, shiny shit you own that you don’t even appreciate, and I figure you must be so sold on your own self-importance that you think you’re entitled to play god with other people’s lives.” The familiar well of contempt in his tone sends a hot shiver down my spine as he circles two fingers along the outer edge of my pucker. He presses his lips against the side of my neck, hot and soft, in direct contrast to the simmering anger in his voice. I tremble again. “But now I’m thinking that a guy who will get on his knees in a filthy bathroom and practically beg to be fucked a foot away from a dumpster probably knows that the way he lives his life is some kind of twisted. I think you want to be hurt and humiliated because you’re sick of people tripping over themselves to lick your shoes.”

My eyelids flutter and I curl my fingers against the wall, feeling the biting scrape of the brick on my knuckles this time. The way Orion takes me apart with his words, the effortless way he shines a light into the cobwebbed corners of my psyche makes me feel even more naked than I felt last night, completely bare and tied to his bed. It tweaks my insides and refreshes the urge to struggle, to get closer to him, to get away from him, to distract both of us from how hard he just hit the target.

ORION

The more Elio flails and whimpers, the more sure I am that I’ve finally figured him out. The fraying knot of hatred that’s lived in my chest since before I met him loosens and falls away. The ragged sound of his breathing and the feel of his body thrashing under me fills up that empty space with something else, something hotter and even more intense than the rage I’ve gotten so used to.

I bite down on the side of his jaw again, flicking the spot with my tongue as I suck a bruise onto his skin. I pet his pucker with two slick fingers, waiting for him to tire himself out again. His hole constricts and relaxes, fluttering against my fingertips with every muffled sound he makes. When he sags into me to catch his breath, I press my fingers against the tight ring of muscles and shove them both inside.

His hole clamps down around the intrusion. My hand over his mouth is damp with sweat and the condensation of his breath, but I can feel it getting even wetter as he parts his lips and pants. I love the fight in him, not because I’m trying to fulfill a rape fantasy, but because it makes this moment so much fucking sweeter. He’s given up pretending to shake me off, and the surrender that’s written in his slack muscles and in every stifled, breathy moan is more addictive than any drug.

I work my fingers deeper, loosening him up and savoring the prize I earned after the work of chasing him through the darkness and wearing down his defenses. I stroke in and out of him with deep, slow thrusts, eating up the heady submission of the way he trusts his weight to me and the greedy cant of his hips as he rides my fingers.

Maybe one night I’ll tie him to my bed again and finger him until he’s sobbing and begging for my cock. Better yet, I’ll bind his hands behind his back, put him face down, ass up, and tease his hole with just the tip of my tongue until he’s cursing me. But we don’t have that kind of time out here in the open, where anyone could stumble upon us at any second.

I slip my fingers free, and he gasps into my palm. He’s done struggling though, staying pliant, pinned to the wall by my weight alone while I fumble in my back pocket for the condom I shoved in there on a whim this morning. I tear it open with my teeth and then undo my pants, pushing them down just enough to let my cock spring free.

Even with my hand over his mouth, the muffled sounds Elio is making are unmistakable pleas. I peel my hand back and his whispered, rasping words fill the quiet alley.

“Please, Orion. Boss. Fuck. I need it. I’ll do anything. Just, please .” The desperation in his voice tightens my balls and heats up every inch of my skin.

I grunt and line up the sheathed tip of my cock with his entrance, feeling the soft give of it immediately. His hole is slippery and greedy, pulling me in the same way Elio himself dragged me into his world. Maybe I should still hate him, but that feels impossible with my nose pressed against the back of his neck, my cock sinking into his ass inch by inch, all of his muscles quivering as if he’s the helpless one. As if he needs me somehow.

I grit my teeth and suck in a sharp breath, the pressure of his inner muscles squeezing so tightly around my cock that it makes my eyes roll back and my thighs tremble. When I bottom out, we both moan. I suck in a deep, slow breath and let go of the weight of everything else. It may only be for the next few minutes, but right now nothing matters except for the sounds Elio’s making and the way his back expands against my chest with every panting breath he drags in.

I grab his wrists and yank his arms up over his head. It’s probably wishful thinking, but I swear I can feel the slight swell of the bruises I left there last night. I drag my thumb along the spot and rumble with satisfaction. The thought of my marks marring the pristine skin under his fancy suits is satisfying all on its own, but now I’m imagining Elio stripping himself bare at the end of a long day and seeing the evidence of my rough treatment, feeling tenderness in all the spots where my fingers or teeth bit into him. The thought of giving him exactly what he’s craving, of scratching an itch for him even when I’m not there, hits every dominant button inside of me.

I pull back, then snap my hips forward again, jarring him into the wall. He groans and tries to tug his arms free, urging me to tighten my hold on him in fluent brat . I dig my fingers in and fuck him harder, filling him deep over and over, pressing him into the wall and ignoring the way the brick bites into my knuckles. Elio matches my feral, frantic energy, meeting my thrusts and echoing the desperate sounds that vibrate on my tongue. I bite and kiss the patches of bare skin I can reach on his throat, hungry for the way he gasps every time my teeth dig into him.

Heat builds in my gut, tightening with every thrust, ratcheting up with every layer of civility we let fall away. Elio’s pants drop around his ankles, and I grab both his wrists in one hand. I shove my free hand up the back of his loose shirt to drag my blunt fingernails over his skin. I want to scratch my name into him so everyone else will know better than to touch what’s mine. I want to sear insults and praise all over his body, so he’ll always have whichever one he needs. I want to fucking tear him apart and put him back together.

He moans my name like it’s a prayer, his body trembling, his insides constricting around my cock so hard that I see stars.

My thrusts fall out of rhythm, faster and more frenzied, harder, harder, harder, until Elio moans so loudly that I have no doubt people on the sidewalk can hear him. They can gather around and watch me fuck the cum out of him for all I care.

“That’s right, come for me, Brat. Be a good boy.”

He wails again and starts to pulse around me. I wrap my hand around his cock, catching the hot splatters of his cum, using it as lube to stroke him through his orgasm. It only takes one more thrust for me to follow him over the edge, the tug of his inner muscles around my cock punching the breath out of my lungs as I spill into the condom.

Next time I don’t want anything between us. I want to paint his insides and leave my cum dripping from his hole when I’m done with him. I went to the free clinic and got tested weeks ago, before Elio sucked me off in the bathroom, before I had any reason to think there would ever be anything between us. But if I’m being really honest with myself, it’s possible I entertained a fantasy or two about hate-fucking the bratty mob boss, even back then.

I slam my hips forward one last time, grinding against his ass cheeks and groaning as I savor the last few dizzying pulses of my fading orgasm. My hand is dripping with his release, his cock already starting to soften in my grasp. I sag against him and press my face into the back of his neck again, loose tendrils of my hair falling around my face.

“I feel like you’ve peeked into all my dirtiest fantasies and handed them to me on the tarnished platter I’ve been craving,” he murmurs, his voice as raw as my insides feel.

“What, no one’s ever fucked you like they hate you before?” I try to keep the question light, but a possessive feeling swells in my chest. If he says someone has, I might have to find whoever it was and rip their head clean off their body for daring to touch him.

“No one has ever seen me the way you do,” Elio says. His response dries up all the words in my throat and soothes the jealousy inside me.

I growl and press my lips to the back of his neck, then slip my spent cock free. I toss the used condom onto the ground a few feet away, into a heap of trash that’s already there, then pull my pants up. Elio keeps his hands braced on the wall, his ass bare, his pants around his ankles. Even in the dark, it’s the kind of sight I could get off to a thousand times and still dream about it.

I crouch down behind him and sink my teeth into his ass cheek. He lets out a tired gasp, pushing his ass towards me, still eager for more. I laugh quietly and grab his pants to pull them back into place. His breathing slows as I tuck his cock away, zip him up, and redo his belt. When I stand up again, he finally lowers his hands from the wall and turns to face me.

“Let me drive you home?” he offers.

I nod, then catch his jaw in one hand, leaning in close enough to feel his breath and the humidity radiating off of his sweat-slicked skin.

“Thanks, Brat,” I murmur, catching his lips in a kiss.

It feels different without the desperate, hungry edge of lust riding us both hard. I take a minute to relish the soft give of his mouth and the sweetness of his tongue wrapping around mine. I peeled back a layer of Elio tonight, but I’m sure I’ve only scratched the surface. He’s a mess of contradictions, his morals dark, light, and dozens of shades of gray. He’s cocky and self-assured, but desperate to be used and humiliated. He wants to pull me into his world, but he doesn’t want to force my hand. He’s a stone-cold killer—I saw it with my own two eyes last night—but right now he’s clinging to my shirt and melting into my mouth with a sweet submissiveness that makes me ache.

“Actually, you might as well just drop me back at the hospital,” I say when I release him. Elio frowns, but he doesn’t press me with any more questions about my brother. At least not tonight. Will I tell him if he asks later?

Honestly, I have no fucking clue.

What I do know is that Elio is a complication I don’t fucking need on top of everything else. But I think it might already be too late.