15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

ORION

The last time I came to Elio’s place, I was too focused on tearing into him about paying off my debt to notice much of anything else. My palm tingles with the memory of putting him over my knee and spanking him until he came. He quirks his lips in a half smile, giving me a sideways look that makes me wonder if he’s thinking about the same thing I am as he presses the button to call the elevator to the lobby.

I take a second to look around while we wait for it, drinking in the sleek design of the entryway and the polished gleam of the floors. There isn’t a rat trap in sight. No peeling paint or lingering smell of mold either. Shame starts to twist in my gut, but I harden myself against it before it can put down any roots. My apartment might be a shithole, but I worked fucking hard for it. While Elio was stepping into a ready-made family business, I was scrounging through dumpsters behind restaurants for food. The fact that I’ve managed to put a roof over my head and keep it there through everything else life has thrown at me is a goddamn miracle.

The elevator doors slide open, and I follow Elio inside. As soon as they close again, he sags against the back wall, reaching up to loosen his tie and letting out a sigh that echoes the exhaustion that’s weighing me down. Maybe he’s never had to fight a stray dog for some stale bread, but his life has probably been bleak in its own ways. That realization slaps me in the face and leeches out just a little bit more of the bitterness I’ve spent years building up inside of myself.

He surprises me by grabbing my hand when the doors open again. Not in a rough or demanding way, just threading his fingers between mine. My heart forces its way into my throat and I look down at our joined hands, dumbfounded.

“What? No one’s ever held your hand before?” he teases, reaching into his pocket with his free hand to pull out his key.

I swallow and shake my head, flexing my fingers around his, testing out the weight of his palm against mine and the heavy, slow thud of my heart.

His mouth twists into a sympathetic frown. “Want me to stop?”

Do I want him to stop? Every minute of my life since the first time he came to the locker room after a fight over a year ago has felt like a train that’s jumped the tracks. Out of control, on a path towards certain death, and impossible to stop. It’s also been thrilling, eye-opening, and exactly what I didn’t know I needed in some perfectly twisted way.

I shake my head again. “No, Brat. Just open the door. You promised me massaging jets and bubbles.” I tighten my grip on his hand and jerk my chin at the door in front of us.

He chuckles and slides his key into the lock. Just one lock. No extra deadbolts or anything else. Damn, would that be nice. I don’t even know where the money to pay for Jack’s care is going to come from once I’m too old to keep fighting, so an apartment upgrade is a pipe dream if there ever was one.

He stops inside the door, dropping my hand and bending down to untie his shoes. He slips them off one at a time and lines them up on a shoe rack against the wall. I don’t know if he’s going for some kind of world record on shock value tonight or what, but Elio manages to stun me again by kneeling down in front of me and working the knots in my ratty shoelaces loose. I look down at him, in his tailored suit, his head bent forward. There’s a cluster of dark freckles on the back of his neck, and another fading bruise peeking out from under his collar. I reach down and run my fingertips along the patch of skin.

“You’re being sweet tonight.” My voice sounds slow and relaxed in my ears, and that’s just as shocking as everything else so far.

He pulls my shoe off and glances up at me with a cheeky smirk. “You’re giving me a chance to be sweet for a change.”

I puzzle over that while he slips my other shoe off and places them next to his on the rack. The sight of my worn sneakers next to his pristine Oxfords is fucking laughable. He gets back to his feet and brushes off his pants, meeting my eyes. I study him silently for a few seconds.

“I thought pissing me off was your kink.” I take a step closer and unbutton his suit jacket, slipping my hands under it to slide it off his shoulders.

“It is.” He grins again. “But I’m a complex man.” He presses a kiss to my cheek, his lips searing my skin before he pulls away and starts down the hallway.

I’m right behind him as we pass through the living room. I pause for a second to take it all in, just like I did down in the lobby. His place is tidy, and every piece of furniture looks expensive and probably custom made. It’s the art on the walls that surprises me the most—abstract shapes and pops of color that draw my eye from one to the next until we reach the bathroom.

If I tried to imagine the nicest bathroom possible, it would be a dump compared to what I’m looking at right now. The floor is white marble, but all the other fixtures are matte black—the sinks, the toilet, and even the tub, which I’m pretty sure is big enough to double as an Olympic swimming pool. The shower is made of natural looking stone with tropical plants growing along the back wall.

“Oh, fuck off,” I mutter in disbelief.

Elio laughs. “You like it?”

“It’s fucking obscene.” I’m sure he can hear the awe in my voice, but it’s also hard not to think about where the money for a bathroom like this came from. “You ever think about what you had to do to afford all this?”

He looks around and then shrugs one shoulder. “Every dollar that’s changed hands since the beginning of human civilization has been soaked in blood, Boss. Face it, we’re a shitty, violent species.”

I guess his logic is hard to argue with. And I’m desperate enough to soak my muscles that I’d rather not overthink it. Maybe that makes me no different from him.

He cranks on the faucet to start filling the tub. While I strip my shirt over my head and step out of my pants, he adds some concoction to the tub, creating bubbles and filling the air with an expensive smelling citrus scent. He finishes and stands next to the tub, stuffing his hands into his pockets and dragging his eyes up and down my naked body like he can’t decide where he wants to look the most.

My cock swells lazily and a steady, pulsing heat fills my gut. If I weren’t dead on my feet, I might be tempted to bend Elio over the sink and make him scream my name until his throat is raw.

“The control for the jets is just…” He jerks his chin towards a dial on the wall next to the tub, then glances at the door like he’s not sure whether he should stay or not.

I’ve been into power play and kink as long as I can remember. When I had time, before Jack’s injury, I spent a fair amount of time at a kink club where I played with all kinds of eager subs. They were fun in their own ways, but they didn’t do a damn thing to prepare me for the primal satisfaction I feel having Elio in front of me, shifting his weight and softening his gaze. Half an hour ago, he was the scariest fucker in a bar full of criminals, and now he’s waiting for me to tell him what I want.

“Good. Then turn them on and strip. I think there’s plenty of room for two in here.” I step over the ledge of the tub, groaning as the steaming water envelops my tight calves. “Hell, there’s probably room for ten in here.”

Elio growls and turns the dial, making the jets rumble to life. “No way am I sharing you with eight other people. If anyone else touches you, I might start hacking off limbs.”

I laugh and sink into the water. I should probably be horrified by the unhinged threat, especially considering how comfortable he is with dismemberment and murder as part of his day-to-day life. But, if I’m being honest, I might fucking kill anyone who touches him too.

ELIO

Orion melts into the tub with a moan that settles under my skin and strokes my cock to full mast in seconds flat. He tilts his head back and his eyelids flutter closed, all the tension slipping out of his face. Even the muscle in his jaw that always seems to twitch and tick softens, letting his mouth relax and his lips part a fraction of an inch. I want to slip my tongue between them and get drunk on the taste of his mouth.

I’m not sure if he thought I was joking, but I would fucking kill for him. I’d happily burn this entire city to ash without a second thought if he wanted or needed me to.

“I think I told you to do something,” he reminds me without opening his eyes. The rumble of his voice is as relaxed as the rest of his body language, but that doesn’t undermine the authority of the command. The easy, confident dominance is enough to make me pant and my cock jerk.

He teased a few minutes ago that he thought pissing him off was my kink. And fuck me, it is. That spark of passion and rage in his eyes, the rough feeling of his hands all over me, the strange power there is in being the outlet for all the seething fury inside of him… It’s the definition of my kink, but it’s so much more than that.

I want to piss him off and I want to be the person who calms him down. I want to see the violence shining in his eyes, and I want to watch it bleed out into sated quiet. I want him pushing me up against a building in a filthy alley, fucking me until I can’t stand straight, and I want to sink into the bath with him and massage the tense knots out of his shoulders.

I want him .

Orion Barros is my fucking kink.

He cracks an eye open, his throat vibrating with a low warning growl. If I keep standing here instead of undressing, will he jump out of the tub and make me undress? My cock throbs at the thought of Orion, dripping wet, his eyes glowing with frustration as he tears my clothes off me. If he wasn’t so tired tonight, I might push my luck.

The satisfied hum he makes when I start to undress sounds like a purr. All the rumbling, wordless sounds he uses to communicate are full of the same feral energy he exudes when he’s in the ring. It’s like he’s just barely holding on to the tether of his humanity, hovering closer to the animal end of the spectrum than the rest of us are. And, yeah, that’s definitely my kink too.

I can feel him watching me through the slits of his eyelids, the gurgle of the jets covering the sound of my breathing as I disrobe one item at a time. I toss my clothes into the hamper to be taken to the cleaners later, then turn my back to him so I can set my pistol and holster on the counter next to the sink. I look into the mirror and find him watching me openly now, an unmistakable look of appreciation on his face that sparks electricity up and down my spine.

My balls tighten and an eager shiver runs through me. Orion’s eyes meet mine in the mirror, and they darken with a heady mixture of lust and dominance.

“I’m tired of you making me wait, Brat. Get over here.”

I let a slow grin spread over my lips, dragging out the moment for just a second so I can watch his expression start to harden. “Yes, Boss,” I answer, and turn back towards him.

His eyes follow the sway of my erection between my thighs for the few steps it takes me to reach the bath. It’s in that same lazy, unimpressed way he drove me wild when he had me tied to his bed. I don’t know if it’s the lighting, or if it’s exhaustion that lets the mask slip just long enough for me to see hunger bleeding through his expression. Surprisingly, that only makes me hotter for him. I wasn’t sure if this game would do as much for me if there wasn’t genuine disdain behind it, but the results are in, and it’s a big ‘hell, yes.’

I absently graze my fingertips over the sensitive head of my cock, gathering the slick precum that’s pooled there, and I step into the tub. Orion bats my hand away from my dick.

“Hands off,” he barks, then he points at the space in front of himself. “Right here. Facing me.”

I’m careful not to trip over his outstretched legs, hidden under the blanket of thick bubbles that cover the surface of the water.

“Bossy,” I mutter teasingly as I lower myself right where he wants me, straddling his thighs, my cock bumping against his under the water.

He’s just as hard as I am. Thick and stiff, the head of his erection dragging against mine with the jerk of his hips.

“That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?” He arches an eyebrow. “You brought me home to your fancy-ass apartment full of overpriced shit so I could boss you around and give you a break from your demons by letting you play with mine for a few hours.”

“No.” I shake my head.

“No?” he scoffs.

“Fine, yes . But that’s not the only reason.” I shift closer to him, finding a comfortable position with his hard thighs under my ass cheeks, draping myself over him to crush our cocks between us, chest to chest, our faces inches apart.

I reach up and loosen the knot on top of his head, letting his long hair cascade over his shoulders and skim the surface of the bubbles.

“What are the other reasons?” He wraps his arms around me and slides his hands down my back, all the way to my ass. He grabs my cheeks in both hands and squeezes them roughly, tugging them apart just enough to make my hole ache.

“You deserve a hot bath after a hard few days.”

Orion’s forehead wrinkles and he looks at me like I’m an alien, or maybe like he can’t quite figure out what my words mean. Jesus, he’s really never had anyone be nice to him in his life, has he?

“That it?” he asks. “You wanted to bathe me?”

I snort and lean in a little closer, dropping my voice to a whisper. “Mostly, I just like your company, Boss.”

He grunts and squeezes my ass cheeks again, digging his fingers into my flesh hard enough to make me gasp and make my cock flex against his. I groan and swivel my hips, grinding, humping, tempting him to grab me even harder. Which is exactly what he does. I can feel the throb of bruises forming in the shape of his fingers as I rest my forehead on his and moan.

“I’m too damn tired for games tonight, Brat.” Orion sighs. I try to hide my disappointment as he loosens his grip on me and leans back, spreading his arms over the edge of the tub. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and jerk us off, nice and slow.”

“I thought you said, ‘hands off?’” I flash a teasing, toothy smile and slide my hands along his stomach, hot and slippery under the water, tracing the shape of each of his abs. His cock twitches eagerly as I get closer to it.

Even tired and relaxed like this, he’s still able to move fast enough that I don’t have time to react before his fingers dig into my jaw.

“And now I’m telling you to wrap your hand around both our cocks and stroke us off. Keep up with the attitude and you can make me come and go to bed with blue balls yourself.” He follows up the threat by sinking his teeth into my bottom lip, tugging at it sharply before he runs his tongue along it. I gasp, and Orion shoves his tongue into my mouth.

My pulse skyrockets, and I make another muffled, horny sound against his lips. I’ve played with a few Doms before, trying to scratch the itch that vanilla sex never seemed to satisfy. There’s a hell of a lot that sets Orion apart from any of them, but the way he kisses is at the top of the list. He doesn’t just drag his tongue over mine. He doesn’t just command my mouth with his. He fucking devours me. He owns me with every stroke and lick. The dominance that colors every other touch is so damn potent in the kiss that it makes me dizzy.

I give in to every one of his unspoken demands, softening for him and following his lead, chasing his tongue when he coaxes me to. The rhythm is just as leisurely as everything else feels tonight, but the force is bruising and addictive.

His moan vibrates around my tongue when I wrap my hand around our cocks, hard, pulsing shaft to hard, pulsing shaft. It’s the first time he’s let me explore at all, and I’m happy to take full advantage of it, using my free hand to trace the hard planes of his body from his chest to his shoulders. I tangle my fingers in his untamed hair, then find my way to the thundering pulse point in his throat, lingering with my palm against it for a few seconds before I find other interesting places to map out.

Under the water, I work my other hand over our cocks. I tease my thumb along his loose foreskin, pulling it up over the head of his cock, then rolling it back on the downstroke. My foreskin does the same, getting slick inside with precum that washes away when I pull it back with the next stroke. His balls bounce, and my thighs tremble with the dizzying feeling of his cock throbbing against mine.

Orion grunts and growls, not touching me anywhere except for the hold he still has on my jaw, directing the kiss, which gets deeper and harder with every rasping breath and tug of our cocks. The metallic flavor of his blood is still lingering on his lips, almost too faint to notice, but enough to remind me of the look in his eyes during the fight tonight. He was beautiful and savage. He was fucking perfection.

Heat blooms in my gut and I stroke us faster, jerking my hips to match the rhythm. I flick the pad of my thumb over the stiff nub of his nipple, swallowing the moan he feeds me, and rut my cock against his inside the tight channel of my grasp. Orion grips my face harder and breaks the kiss.

“I said slow ,” he reminds me, his voice full of gravel.

I twist my wrist on the next upstroke, and he lets his head loll back, another groan slipping from between his lips to echo off the bathroom walls this time. His mouth is damp and swollen from our kiss, and I’m sure mine looks the same. My cock pulses greedily at the thought. I want more of his bruises on me. I want him to leave hickies across my throat that spell out his name.

Orion slams his hips up, fucking his cock against mine once, twice. I can feel him getting harder and hear his breath coming faster. With a wicked grin, I do as he said and slow my strokes to a near halt. He moans again and huffs out a laugh. His eyelids flutter half closed, and his puffy lips curl into a smile that’s so goddamn beautiful it punches the air out of my lungs for a second.

I tug my hand up and down over our shafts so slowly I can feel the throb of his veins against mine, both of us spilling so much precum that our heads are slick as they drag over each other, even under the water. His chest expands with deep, steady breaths, and I run my fingers over his lips to commit the shape of his lazy smile to memory.

“Is that better, Boss?” I ask with just a hint of cheekiness, following his lead and breathing in slowly with every steady stroke.

The deliberate pace makes every tug more intense. I can feel the way his balls are tightening little by little and the bunch of his foreskin against mine.

“Yeah,” Orion grunts. “Keep it up, just like that.”

He hooks his hand around the back of my neck and drags me in for another kiss. This time, he matches the unhurried speed of my strokes with languid laps of his tongue along mine. The whole world feels like it slows to a crawl around us. Every droplet of water that creeps down my skin does so at half speed, every breath drawn out, every touch rippling between us like rings on the surface of a pond.

It’s the complete opposite of the frantic way he shoved me up against the wall and fucked me the last time we were together, but that doesn’t make it any less intense. His cock swells and twitches, and mine does the same. We trade stifled, horny sounds around tongue-heavy kisses until my head is so foggy that nothing feels real except the wet slide of his skin against mine.

“Elio,” he rasps my name through gritted teeth and then bites out a groan.

The first pulse of his orgasm fluttering against my cock sends me tumbling over the edge right along with him. I moan into his mouth, no longer kissing but sharing space, trading air and bumping together as our slow breaths turn to heavy panting. I squeeze and tug our cocks, grinding myself against him, chasing every lazy wave of pleasure that crashes over us. One gasping, dizzying throb after another, spilling cum all over each other’s cocks and into my hand. It goes on and on, seemingly endless, until my balls are drained and sore, and my oversensitive cock starts to soften in my grasp.

Orion shivers and his body relaxes under me.

The orgasm made me bold and maybe a little stupid. That’s my excuse for the next words out of my mouth, anyway.

“You know, I’ve got a pretty damn nice bed, too.”