19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

ORION

Whatever needs to happen next with Casimir, I know my temp job as Moretti muscle isn’t over yet. But for tonight at least, it feels like a weight is off my shoulders. I met Lorenzo Moretti and lived to tell the tale. Not that I would tell anyone. I might be bold enough to spank a Mafia underboss in public, but my bravery definitely doesn’t extend to testing my luck and flapping my gums about the head honcho.

“Give me your keys,” I say in response to Elio’s question as we make our way out of Wild, skirting around the horndogs panting over the dancers up on stage and the half-naked men carrying trays of drinks.

I’m not sure if I’m intending the command to be a test or not, but it kind of feels like one. He says this shit is serious, brought me to meet his family, but does he really trust me enough to hand over the keys to his hundred-thousand-dollar sports car? He doesn’t hesitate though. In one fluid movement, Elio reaches into his pocket, pulls out his keys, and tosses them to me. I snatch them out of the air with my free hand and wrap my fingers around them, the jagged edge of the key biting into my palm.

“Does that mean you’re not going to tell me?” he guesses, nodding politely to the bouncer who rushes to open the door for us. Elio doesn’t even slow his steps. He was expecting that kind of treatment. Instead of pissing me off for a change, it amuses me. And it definitely makes me want to put him over my lap and call him a brat again while I spank him.

My cock perks up at the idea.

“Nope,” I answer with a smirk.

I’m not sure why the idea occurred to me. Maybe it’s not even somewhere he’ll want to go. It’s not too late to pick a restaurant instead and take him on a traditional date. He drops my hand when we reach his car, going around to the passenger side and climbing in. I watch him through the windshield for a few seconds, noticing the strand of hair that breaks ranks momentarily before he cards his fingers through it to get it back in line, and the slight wrinkle in his jacket from the way I grabbed him earlier. My stomach flips and flutters, my insides heating all at once with feelings I never expected. Feelings that have been quietly building longer than I think I realized.

I swallow around the tightness in my throat and get into the car. Fuck a boring, traditional date.

I rev the engine, and he leans back in his seat, seeming perfectly at ease with me behind the wheel. He never even bothered to ask if I can drive. I chuckle at that realization.

“Right pedal for stop, left pedal for go, right?” I tease stoically. Elio’s eyebrows jump up while I grab the gear shift and yank it into drive. “Never mind, I got it.” I slam my foot down on the gas and peel out of the parking spot.

“And I’m the brat?” he mutters, buckling his seat belt and then grabbing the door handle while I test out the Jag’s handling with a couple of quick turns through the parking lot before finally slowing down and easing out onto the street.

It takes a minute to mentally map out the city and remember how to get where I want to go from here. It’s been nearly twenty years since I’ve taken some of these streets. The buildings become progressively more dilapidated around us, then start to thin out, apartments and high rises giving way to stand-alone buildings, warehouses, and empty shells that stopped being used for anything but homeless encampments and various criminal activities before I was even born.

“What are the chances that the Dante and Salvatore situation ends in bloodshed?” I ask conversationally, keeping my eyes on the pothole laden road ahead of me, swerving every few feet one way or the other to avoid the bigger ones. Luckily, there’s no one else on the road in this part of the city.

“High.” He laughs. “But I’m pretty sure that’s what Sal is hoping for. I’m even more sure Lorenzo knows it. He sees everything. He’s got eyes everywhere, but it’s more than that. Enzo is just… observant. He’s always aware, always alert, always thinking and planning. I don’t know how he does it. It fucking exhausts me just thinking about it.” The awe in his voice when he talks about his brother makes my chest tighten and my throat feel thick.

I tighten my grip on the steering wheel and press a little harder on the gas again, disregarding the speed limit written on signs too covered in graffiti to read anyway.

“That’s how Jack always was too. He was the man with the plan, fucking sharp and determined.” My voice cracks and I clear my throat.

Elio reaches over to put a hand on my thigh, and the warmth of his touch through the cotton of my pants is grounding, even if it can’t do anything to fix all the shit that’s broken and unfair in the world.

“I hope I can meet him sometime. When he’s out of the hospital and up for visitors, of course.” He says it so casually that it twists the knot a little tighter in my chest. He grips my thigh harder and then eases off. “Unless you don’t want me to. If you think he’d be disapproving or…”

A harsh laugh forces its way out of my throat. “He would definitely disapprove. But I actually think he would like you. I’m going to have a lot of fucking explaining to do though when I do introduce you.” I spot the ghostly outline of the abandoned warehouse I’ve been looking for, and ease off the gas to be ready for the turn. “After he got hurt, he made me promise I wouldn’t turn to you guys for a loan or start taking money to throw fights.”

“The moral objection runs in the family, I take it?” The amusement in his voice almost makes me laugh again. Like he finds it cute that anyone would be ethically appalled by the Moretti family business.

“Nah.” I shake my head and roll to a stop in front of the building. “I think he thought I was too soft, that if I got mixed up in all this stuff, I’d end up getting pulled in too deep.” I let out another rusty chuckle. “I guess he wasn’t wrong.”

I blow out a breath and turn off the car. Elio seems to realize we’ve stopped for the first time. I look over and he tears his gaze off of me to peer through the windshield at the building in front of us. There’s a chain around the main door, which is doing fuck all thanks to the massive hole in the side of the building, easily large enough for several men to walk through at once. The windows are all either caked with dirt or completely shattered, the parking lot is more weeds than cement, and the fading graffiti suggests that even the taggers and gangs stopped bothering to come out here a long damn time ago.

“You brought me to an abandoned warehouse?” He unbuckles his seat belt and climbs out.

“What, is this place not first date material?” I tease, getting out on my side and stuffing the keys into my pocket.

“This isn’t our first date, Boss,” he scoffs.

“No? What was our first date?” I jerk my head towards the makeshift entrance and Elio follows me.

“The underground fight at Lou’s, obviously. I tended to your wounds, and you manhandled me into a blowjob. It doesn’t get much more romantic than that.” He smirks, and I step through the opening, then turn around to grab him by the collar and drag him in after me.

He gasps, then laughs, stumbling inside and colliding with me.

“I guess I can’t argue with that.” I slip one hand around the back of his neck and pull him in for a brief, rough kiss, nipping at his bottom lip and swallowing the moan that vibrates on his tongue.

I pull back and he stumbles again, looking dazed after even a few seconds of our tongues tangling. Jesus, I could get used to that. Fuck it, I’m more than used to it already.

Elio looks past me, and I watch his expression for a second as he takes it in, his eyebrows twitching and his eyes flickering around the space. It’s not hard to figure out what this place is, but he’s not going to get much further than that without context.

I turn around to face the open space. The rusted, broken-down machinery from the early days of the factory is in pieces, littering the outer edges of the room. In the center, there’s a makeshift ring. It’s even more low budget and brutal than the one at Lou’s, than any of the other underground rings I’ve climbed into over the past handful of years to pay Jack’s bills. It’s nothing more than some frayed ropes tied to support beams to create a rough rectangle of space. The cement inside the ropes is stained brown with years of blood that was hastily mopped up, or not cleaned up at all.

The phantom sound of shouts and cheers fills my ears, making my heart race and my muscles tense, ready for a fight. The thick layer of dust covering everything makes it obvious that no one has held a fight here in years, but I swear I can still smell the sweat and blood mixing with cigarette and cigar smoke, crawling down my throat to churn in my gut.

“This is where I had my first fight.” I cross the space and duck between the ropes, my mind filling in a million details about that night I didn’t even know I remembered. Like the taste of the cheap canned spaghetti I’d had for dinner burning in the back of my throat and the glare of the lights pointed at the ring. My eyes twitch into a squint in reaction to the memory, even though the only light now is from the moon through the broken windows. “I was fifteen. Scrawniest little shit you’ve ever seen. I’m pretty sure every single asshole in this place that night was expecting to see me hauled out of here on a stretcher. I was matched against this forty-year-old dude with a beer gut and these massive hands that I swear to god looked like bear paws, they were so hairy.”

A laugh gets caught in my throat. Elio’s hand on my back surprises me, pulling me back into the present again as it slides up my spine, between my shoulder blades, and comes to rest on the back of my neck.

“That’s fucked up, Boss,” he murmurs, and I nod.

“I went absolutely apeshit on him though. It felt like I’d been saving up every ounce of rage I had at my parents, at every pervert who offered me money or food for sex, at the fucking world, and I unleashed it all on him. I think I caught him off guard more than anything, but it was enough to get the upper hand and knock him the fuck out.”

“I think you still do that.” He presses his thumb into a knot on the back of my neck to loosen it and rests his chin on my shoulder. “You’re feral in the ring. It’s like you’re rage personified. It gets my dick hard every time.”

I lean into him and smirk. “Is there anything I do that doesn’t get your dick hard?”

“Not a damn thing,” he purrs, pressing a kiss to the side of my throat.

The warmth of his lips against my skin sends a shiver through me. The memories from that night feel like they drained all the heat from my body, leaving my skin clammy and covered in goose bumps, but Elio’s touch chases the chill away.

I turn my head to look at him.

“Think you can take me?” I challenge, arching one eyebrow.

“Absolutely,” he answers, then looks away from me to glance at the ring around us again. “Oh, you mean in a fight?” I bark out a laugh. Unlike the last few, instead of tightening my insides, this one loosens everything, unraveling the tangle left by the ghosts of the past. “I’m more of a lover than a fighter if I can help it. Besides, there’s probably enough blood soaked into this cement already, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” I scuff my shoe against the stain.

“You still want to fight, don’t you?” he asks with humor in his voice.

“Kind of,” I admit.

“Alright.” He pushes off of me and shrugs out of his jacket for the second time tonight. He slings it over one of the ropes and rolls up his sleeves, one at a time. I watch the flex of the muscles in his forearms and the dexterity of his fingers. It’s ridiculous how mesmerized I am by every single inch of him. He bounces his shoulders up and down like he’s loosening them up and then puts his fists up in a fighting stance, a playful smile dancing on his lips. “Come on, Boss. Rough me up.”

The sound that rumbles through my throat is part amusement, part threat. I roll my head one way, then the other. “With an invitation like that, how can I resist?”

ELIO

I may not be an MMA fighter, but convincing an opponent to underestimate you always gives you a bit of an edge. Orion pointed out that’s how he won his first fight, but that doesn’t stop him from falling into the same trap.

He gives me a dangerous, toothy grin, like he has me exactly where he wants me. My cock swells and my heart rate speeds up, but I ignore both, holding my hands as awkwardly as I can manage to give weight to my ruse.

He lunges forward, arm swinging at half speed. I dodge it and send a jab right into his unguarded gut.

“ Oomph ,” he gasps, stumbling back a couple of inches, surprise coloring his face.

“Just because I’m a lover, doesn’t mean I don’t know how to fight.” I wink and go in for a second hit. Orion’s ready for it this time. He dodges and weaves, his laughter echoing off the high ceilings along with mine, the scrape of our feet against the bare floor the only other sound for miles. At least it feels that way.

“You think you’re cute, Brat?” he teases, catching me with a feather-soft uppercut.

“Kind of.” I smirk. “Now, stop babying me and hit me for real.” I swing my fist full force into the side of his jaw to punctuate my point, feeling the scrape of his stubble against my knuckles.

He grunts and his eyes darken, narrowing into slits as his nostrils flare. Now we’re getting somewhere. I lick my lips and swing again. Orion catches my fist in his palm and uses the momentum of the swing to spin me around. He kicks my legs out from under me before I have time to reorient myself, and I barely manage to brace myself on the way down.

He’s on me just as fast, the hard, heavy press of his body blanketing me, pinning me to the cold cement. My cock throbs and my nipples tighten, my breath coming out in a shuddering gasp. Orion straddles me, the thick, hard outline of his erection heavy against my ass. Just like in the alley, I feel frantic and excited at the same time, all of my nerve endings igniting, my pulse thundering in my ears. Some primal part of me convinces me to thrash, even though there’s nowhere to go unless he decides to let me up.

Orion leans down, his hot breath bathing my ear as he brings his lips close to whisper, “This real enough for you? Or do you want me to get rougher?” He grinds the length of his cock against my ass cheeks, one hand between my shoulders to hold me down even harder. I writhe, trying to put any space between myself and the floor so I can free my hands, kicking my legs and whining low in my throat. There’s a sick kind of power in feeling this helpless, in knowing there’s nothing to do but let go.

“Yes,” I moan. I’m not sure which of those questions I’m answering, or if I’m just begging him for more. Maybe all three. Or maybe ‘yes’ is the only word that my tongue knows when Orion is on top of me.

I can feel the cold from the floor through the thin, silky material of my pants. It’s a sharp contrast to the heat of my arousal, making the eager throb of my cock more intense. Almost dizzying.

He drags his tongue along the curve of my jaw, leaving a wet streak on my skin that’s demeaning and claiming and so fucking hot that I whine again. My balls tighten and ache, and precum slicks the head of my cock, sticking to my briefs, making the cold of the floor even more noticeable. The sting of his teeth biting into the same spot he just licked sends a jolt of electricity through me. The marks he left in the alley have already faded, and I want him to cover me in a thousand more. I want to be a canvas that he paints with his teeth and hands, covering me in bruises that I can watch fade all over again, just so I can beg for more.

Orion’s chest vibrates against my back with a deep, hungry moan as he bites down a little harder. It almost feels like he heard my dirty fantasy, but I think it’s more likely that he just has the same one.

He jerks his hips, grinding his cock into the crease of my ass again. My hole twitches, my insides so empty I can hardly breathe. I need his bruises there too, stretching my hole, pounding all the places no one can see, but that I’ll be able to feel for days after he’s finished with me.

“I can’t stop thinking about fucking you bare, Elio,” he growls, the low rumble of his voice raising goose bumps all over my skin and pulling even tighter around my balls.

“Yes,” I rasp, squirming underneath him again, not trying to get away this time, but trying to get enough leverage to tilt my hips and offer him my ass like the cock slut I am for him. “Jesus, yes , Orion. Spank me, bite me, fuck me bare so your cum drips out of my hole for days after. Please, please, please .”

He lifts his weight off of me, and I wail in protest. I need more . His hands all over me, his tongue and teeth on every inch of my skin, his hot breath in my ear again. I shove my hips up towards him, and he reaches underneath me. His fingers brush the bulge of my needy cock and I gasp.

“It’s fucking embarrassing how desperate you are for it, Brat,” Orion taunts, blindly undoing my belt with one hand.

A pulse of shame ricochets through me, inky and bitter and fucking perfect . My cock jerks and dribbles another burst of precum, spit leaking from the corner of my mouth to pool between my cheek and the floor. His fingers brush over my length again as he unbuttons my pants and tugs the zipper down. All business, like he can’t even be bothered with a cursory grope. I squirm and whimper, humping my ignored cock against his palm.

I don’t know how being treated like nothing makes me feel everything , but it does. It’s twisted and backward, but when he refuses to see me, it’s like he ends up seeing parts of me no one else has ever bothered to look for.

“Pathetic.” He tuts, hooking his fingers into my pants and underwear and tugging them down just below my ass in one quick movement.

My cock slaps against the frigid floor, and I moan loudly, my insides quaking with his addictively dismissive tone and the shock of the cold against my overheated skin. I jerk my hips again, rubbing myself against the concrete, leaving wet streaks of precum.

Orion’s palm lands with a jolting slap against my ass cheek, renewing the ache from the earlier spanking. It knots my stomach and builds inside of my balls, forcing a breathless groan past my lips.

He grabs my ass cheeks roughly, separating them, parting them so wide he tugs at my hole.

“You ever stick your fingers in here and imagine it was me?” he asks, ghosting his thumb lightly over my pucker.

“Yes.” It really does seem to be the only word I know. But that’s okay because it’s the only one I need.

“Yeah? After a fight, in that big, fancy shower of yours? Did you slick your fingers up with shampoo and pound this tight, slutty hole while you moaned my name?” His voice is a low growl, prickling over my skin and burrowing inside me.

“ Yes ,” I practically wail.

Something wet rains down between my ass cheeks, sliding down my crack and pooling around my hole. Spit? I try to push my hips up towards him again, but he pins me to the ground with his hands on my ass.

“You want it to hurt, Brat?” Orion’s cock nudges against the curve of my ass cheek, slick with his own precum.

“Yes,” I rasp for what has to be the millionth time.

The word is barely past my lips before he’s splitting me open. I didn’t realize I’d closed my eyes, but they fly open now, all of the air punched out of my lungs as the sharp pain I was craving sears through me. I shriek and pant, trying again to push my hips up to get more. Deeper, harder, tear me in two and don’t bother putting me back together. That’s what I would say if I knew any word other than ‘yes’ right now. Since I don’t, I just chant that instead.

“Yes, yes, yes, yesssss.”

A fresh splash of spit cascades over my oversensitive hole, and I scream again, nearly sobbing with how hard my cock throbs, trapped against the floor. And Orion forces himself the rest of the way in, bottoming out, his balls pressed against mine, his hips to my ass cheeks.

There’s something meditative about pain. It has a way of whiting out everything else, sharpening your senses and grounding you in a moment without escape. And that’s exactly what I want. What I need . I’m more aware of every inch of my body than I’ve ever been, but I’m also completely untethered. Nothing feels real, but somehow, it’s the most real anything has ever been. Orion’s grunts and groans are a rhythmic chant, like a prayer. Even when the pain fades, leaving behind nothing but the stretch of him inside me, it’s intense and perfect.

I gasp and moan right along with him, the slap of our skin with every thrust almost loud enough to drown out our wild cries, but not quite. I’m trembling and pulsing, thrashing, and screaming his name. At least I think I am. Or maybe I’m still just shouting “yes” over and over again as my insides tighten, my balls constrict, and my orgasm crashes over me in a blinding wave.

“Fuck, Elio ,” Orion growls between clenched teeth, slamming into me harder as he loses his rhythm and starts to throb inside of me. The pulsing in his cock echoes the way my inner muscles flutter and clench around him.

Hot, sticky ropes of cum spill all over my skin and the floor beneath me, my orgasm going on and on and fucking on until I’m lightheaded and shaking. Orion collapses on top of me, and I feel like I am the puddle of cum on the filthy cement floor. Exactly the way he somehow knew I wanted.

Is this what love feels like?