21. Chapter Twenty-One

Rylan's wrists were chafed raw on the unforgiving ropes binding him to a rickety wooden chair. The dirty, smelly room he was held captive in seemed to close in on him like a dark, suffocating embrace. His once pristine designer clothes hung off his slender frame, torn and filthy from the rough hospitality of Los Manos Rojos. A single dim light bulb swung overhead, casting eerie shadows on the damp walls.

Giraldo circled him like a shark, lips curled in a sneer. "Not so high and mighty now are you, pretty boy? Without Bautista here to protect you."

Rylan glared up at him through sweat-dampened curls. "Go to hell, pendejo," he spat, using one of the insults he'd heard daily in the cartel compound.

Giraldo backhanded him across the face, snapping his head to the side. Rylan spat blood on the dirty concrete floor.

"You think you're special because Bautista fucked you for a while? You're nothing. Just another bitch he got bored of."

Rylan met Giraldo's gaze, anger filling his throat. "You're the one who's nothing. You betrayed him. Bautista is going to rip your heart out when he finds you."

"By the time Bautista figures out where you are, you'll be back home safe and sound." Giraldo smirked. "Unless you give us trouble. Then you'll end up in pieces in a ditch somewhere." He grabbed Rylan's jaw, fingers digging in brutally. "Maybe I'll send him a little souvenir. Like your pretty eyes in a box."

Rylan jerked his chin free. "You think that's going to do anything except piss him off? He'll ruin you. Maybe he'll fuck you next," he added, improvising wildly. "What's the word for that? Maricón."

Giraldo's face turned an ugly shade of red, and he stepped closer to Rylan, his breath hot and foul. But despite his fury, Rylan felt a surge of pride at having managed to strike a nerve.

"Keep talking, puto," Giraldo snarled. He produced a knife from his belt, trailing the point down Rylan's throat. "Let's see if we can't make you scream loud enough for someone to hear."

At that moment, gunfire erupted somewhere in the building. Rylan flinched violently, a whimper escaping his lips as terror flooded his veins. Giraldo leapt to his feet, crossing the room in a few swift strides to crack open the door and peer out.

Rylan watched as Giraldo's eyes widened in shock. The man slammed the door shut, locking it before spinning around and pulling a handgun from his waistband. Rylan barely had time to process what was happening before Giraldo was beside him, the cold metal of the gun barrel pressed firmly against Rylan's temple.

"What are you doing?!" Rylan yelped, his voice high and thin with fear.

The door burst open with a deafening bang, splinters of wood flying through the air. Rylan's breath caught in his throat as he saw Carlos and Bautista standing in the doorway, their guns trained on Giraldo. The sound of gunfire still echoed through the building, but in that moment, all Rylan could focus on was the sight of Bautista.

Rylan sucked in a breath but didn't cry out because the gun barrel was pressed too firmly into his temple. His blood roared in his ears, the adrenaline making him sick. He drank in every detail—the hard set of Bautista's jaw, the fury burning in his dark eyes, the khaki flack jacket over his white undershirt.

Bautista's expression was utterly unreadable, his dark eyes narrowed as he stared down Giraldo. Rylan had never seen him look so cold, so devoid of feeling. Rylan felt a surge of relief so strong it nearly brought tears to his eyes. Bautista was here. He had come for him.

The gun dug harder into his temple. Rylan clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to cry out.

"Let's not do anything rash," Giraldo said, his voice surprisingly steady despite the sweat beading on his brow. "I'm happy to let the boy go, Bautista. I have no quarrel with you. Just give me a little something to make it worth my while."

Carlos spoke up, his tone level and calm. "What's your price?"

Giraldo seemed to relax slightly at Carlos's words. He named a figure, his eyes darting between Carlos and the impassive Bautista.

Bautista remained utterly motionless, his piercing gaze fixed on Giraldo. He didn't so much as glance at Rylan. "Is that all?" he said finally, his voice devoid of any inflection. "You could have asked for so much more."

"What?" Giraldo said, sounding confused. Then, a deafening bang shattered the air.

Rylan flinched violently as Giraldo's body crumpled to the floor, a blossom of red spreading across his chest. He blinked rapidly, his ears ringing from the gunshot. He hadn't even seen if it was Bautista or Carlos who had pulled the trigger.

Immediately, Bautista crossed the floor to Rylan, his boots thudding heavily on the concrete. He gripped Rylan's chin in one calloused hand, tilting his face up to meet his intense gaze. "Are you hurt?" His voice was a low rumble, tinged with an edge Rylan couldn't quite place.

Rylan swallowed hard, shaking his head slightly. "Not really," he rasped, his voice cracking with the effort. Relief washed over him as Carlos swiftly cut through the ropes binding his wrists and ankles.

Before Rylan could say another word, Bautista's arms were around him, pulling him into a crushing embrace against his solid chest. Rylan tensed for a moment before melting into the familiar warmth, inhaling the scent of gunpowder and Bautista's cologne. He wound his arms around Bautista's broad back, clinging to him desperately.

"Carlos," Bautista said urgently.

Carlos grunted. "Go. I'll take care of it."

Rylan saw Carlos's expression as hard as stone before he turned away. Then Bautista was ushering him out of the room, one arm wrapped protectively around Rylan's waist as they hurried down the dimly lit corridor.

Gunfire echoed in the near distance, shouts and screams piercing the air. Rylan flinched at every boom and bang, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. He stumbled along beside Bautista, struggling to keep up with his long, purposeful strides.

They burst through a door and out into the muggy night air. An armored SUV idled in the shadows, the headlights cutting through the darkness. Bautista lifted Rylan into the backseat without comment before climbing in beside him, slamming the door shut behind them.

"Drive!" he barked at the man behind the wheel. The engine roared to life, and they peeled away from the building, tires spitting gravel.

Rylan huddled against Bautista, his breath sobbing in his throat as the adrenaline slowly began to ebb. He pressed his face into the crook of Bautista's neck, inhaling his familiar scent. Bautista's arms tightened around him, one large hand cradling the back of Rylan's head protectively.

"Thank you," Rylan mumbled. "For coming." Bautista turned to look at him then, his dark eyes searching Rylan's face for any remaining signs of fear or distress.

"Always, cari?o," he murmured, reaching out to stroke Rylan's cheek with the backs of his fingers. "Always for you."

***

Rylan sat on the edge of a hotel bed, still not quite able to believe what had happened. Bautista had come for him and whisked him off to the safety of this hotel. The staff had asked so few questions that Rylan suspected this hotel was connected to the cartel, but he didn't care about that right now. Right now all he could think about was Bautista.

The man himself knelt before him, his dark eyes intense as he ran his hands over Rylan's body, checking for any sign of injury.

"I'm fine," Rylan insisted, his voice weak. "Just some bruises."

He couldn't quite believe that Bautista was here, that he had come for him. After the way they had parted, Rylan had been sure he would never see the man again. He'd been going through the motions of finding him, not truly believing it could ever happen. It was simply something he'd had to do to stay sane.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Bautista's hands stilled, his gaze meeting Rylan's. "The last time I saw you, you told me I meant nothing to you. That I was just a toy, something to play with for fun."

Bautista's jaw clenched, a flicker of emotion passing over his face. He dropped his hands, rising to his feet. For a long moment, he said nothing, his broad shoulders tense. "I lied," he said finally, his voice rough. "You mean more to me than anyone in the world, except for Carmelita."

Rylan's breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening. He couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. Bautista had always been so guarded, so careful with his emotions.

"I've been a wreck without you," Bautista said, his gaze boring into Rylan's. "Nothing has any savor. No pleasure in anything."

Rylan's lips twisted into a bitter smile. "I'm sure there are plenty of people in your house for you to fuck," he said snippily, unable to keep the jealousy from his voice.

Bautista reached out, pushing a lock of hair out of Rylan's eyes with a gentleness that made Rylan's heart ache. "Cari?o, don't be jealous," he murmured, his voice low and intimate. "I sent them all away. I don't want anybody but you."

Rylan's breath hitched as Bautista's words washed over him, a dam bursting inside him. Tears spilled down his cheeks, his voice choked with sobs as he confessed, "I love you. I don't want to leave. Please, don't ever make me go away again."

Bautista's arms wrapped around him, pulling him close. His fingers tangled in Rylan's curls, tilting his head back gently, and his lips pressed against Rylan's tear-streaked skin, kissing away the salty tracks. "Never," Bautista vowed, his voice low and intense. He murmured something in Spanish, a promise that Rylan couldn't understand, but the emotion behind the words was clear.

God, the relief. Rylan's chest ached as Bautista's lips captured his in a deep kiss, hands roaming over his body. Rylan felt a powerful hunger surge through him, a need that only Bautista could fulfill. He whimpered softly, his fingers gripping Bautista's shirt.

Bautista broke the kiss, his dark eyes filled with heat as he pushed Rylan back onto the bed. Rylan's heart raced as he watched Bautista move. Those strong fingers brushed against his wrists, lips pressing soft kisses against Rylan's skin.

Rylan's breath hitched as Bautista's hands slid under his top, pulling it up and over his head. He wanted this, wanted him. Bautista's lips trailed down his chest, his tongue flicking out to tease Rylan's nipples. Rylan moaned, arching his back, his fingers tangling in Bautista's dark hair.

Slowly, Bautista's lips trailed down his stomach, his tongue dipping into Rylan's belly button. Rylan whimpered, his body trembling with anticipation. Bautista's hands roamed over his body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Rylan felt a powerful hunger surge through him, and he whimpered, helpless.

Rylan's heart pounded in his chest as Bautista loomed over him, his dark eyes glinting with desire. He felt a rush of heat as Bautista's fingers brushed over his skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. He loved it when Bautista touched him like this, when he took control and made Rylan his own personal plaything.

"Oh, please," he sighed.

"Cari?o," Bautista murmured, his voice low and intimate. "Anything you want."

Rylan swallowed hard, his cheeks flushing pink. "You used to call me your little prince," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want that."

Bautista's eyebrows shot up in surprise, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Oh?" he asked, his voice dripping with amusement. "You want to be my little prince again?" Rylan nodded, his heart racing. Bautista let out a low chuckle. "You know, I only ever called you ‘little prince' to humiliate you," he murmured, his fingers tracing the line of Rylan's jaw. "When I was using you as my own personal plaything."

Rylan's blush deepened, but he held Bautista's gaze, refusing to look away. "I don't care," he said, his voice steady. "I'll always belong to you that way."

Bautista's laughter this time was not cruel, but the laugh of a man who knew he could have whatever he desired. "Is that so?" he purred, his fingers trailing down Rylan's neck.

Rylan's breath caught in his throat, his body thrumming with anticipation as Bautista's large hands settled on his hips, pulling him close. The cartel king's dark eyes were alight with a possessive hunger that made Rylan's heart race.

"Please," Rylan breathed, his fingers clutching at Bautista's shirt. "I need you."

Bautista's grip tightened, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "Then you shall be my little prince," he murmured, his lips brushing against Rylan's. "Always."

Suddenly, Bautista rolled him onto his belly, making him yelp. Then Bautista yanked off his shoes and pants, leaving him naked. Rylan heard the sound of him undressing and bit his lip, glancing shyly back over his shoulder.

God, Bautista was so much to look at, all muscle and ink and masculine hair. And now, a sharp, wolf-like grin crossed his face.

"You have such a beautiful ass," he murmured, his fingers tracing the curve of Rylan's buttocks. "As plump and perfect as a girl's."

Rylan whimpered as Bautista spanked him sharply, the sting of his hand making Rylan's skin tingle. Worse, Bautista gripped his cheeks and held them open, exposing his hole. Rylan cried out in protest, but Bautista just chuckled, his grip tightening on Rylan's flesh.

"Take what you're given, little prince," he growled, his breath hot against Rylan's skin.

Rylan moaned as Bautista's lips skated over his ass cheeks, and then again as his tongue began tracing circles around Rylan's hole. It was humiliating and terrifying, and he secretly loved it. But— "No," he protested.

All Bautista did was laugh and dive back in. Rylan felt himself growing wetter and wetter with every flick of Bautista's tongue, his body aching with desire. He sobbed with need as Bautista held him open, licking at his most intimate place.

It was so much. His heart felt like it might burst.

"Please, Bautista," he whispered, desperate for more, but the dominant man had other plans.

"Say my name," Bautista demanded, pulling Rylan's hips up and pressing his cock to the young man's quivering hole. Rylan whimpered in anticipation, his heart pounding as he felt Bautista slowly, deeply, fuck his way inside him. His whole world narrowed down to the feeling of Bautista's cock filling him, claiming him.

"Say my name," Bautista repeated, yanking Rylan's head back by his hair. His voice was a mix of tenderness and ferocity, leaving no doubt as to who was in control.

Rylan shook with desire, barely managing to choke out the word. "Bautista."

"No, little prince," Bautista whispered against Rylan's ear. "Say my given name."

"Marcus," Rylan breathed, the name slipping from his lips like a prayer.

With a growl, Bautista thrust into him. Rylan cried out, his body arching as Bautista's cock pressed deep inside him, filling him completely. He could feel every inch of Bautista's cock, the heat of his body, the weight of his muscles. Bautista's fingers tightened in his hair, his hips thrusting hard and deep as he fucked into Rylan. Rylan could feel his own cock rubbing against the bed, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through his body. He could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge, his body taut with need.

"Marcus," Rylan gasped, his voice shaking with desire. "Please, I need to come."

Bautista's thrust in deeper and harder, the force of it driving Rylan into the soft mattress beneath. His cock rubbed against the bed with every movement, his nerves sizzling like firecrackers on the verge of explosion. It was maddening. Rylan couldn't stop himself from wailing and moaning, desperate for release.

"Ah, Marcus," he cried out, his voice hoarse. "Please...I need..."

Bautista didn't need to hear any more; his pace increased, relentless and powerful, until Rylan could bear it no longer. His body tightened, and with a guttural cry, he spilled himself onto the sheets in thick, gushing gouts, the orgasm leaving him molten and useless, his limbs quaking with aftershocks.

Bautista groaned, burying himself deep. Rylan felt the throb of come filling him up. "Ah, cari?o," Bautista breathed, his hands stroking over Rylan's flanks. "Mi amor."

Rylan stifled a sob, his heart close to bursting.

Bautista sunk on top of him, hips still pressed tight against his ass, until their sweat-slicked skin was pressed one unto the other, their bodies shuddering and relaxing together.

The room was heavy with the scent of sex and musk, and as Rylan lay there, dazed and overwhelmed by what they had just shared, he finally understood what it meant to belong to someone—truly, completely, without reservation.

"Rylan," Bautista murmured, his voice soft but commanding. "Look at me."

Obediently, Rylan turned his head, meeting those dark, fathomless eyes that had haunted his every waking moment since they had first met. Bautista's lips, flushed and swollen, captured Rylan's in a tender, almost reverent caress that spoke more of love than lust.

"Promise me," Bautista whispered against his lips, his words heavy with unspoken emotion. "Promise me you'll never leave me again."

Rylan's heart clenched. "Never," he vowed, laughter on the edge of his voice as he blinked back tears. "Don't ever let me go again."

"I won't," Bautista murmured, kissing him softly. "Never."