3. New Rules

CHAPTER 3

NEW RULES

Antonio woke to the gentle caress of silk sheets against his bare skin, momentarily disoriented by the unfamiliar luxury. As consciousness crept in, so did the memories of the night before. The casino, Rizzo, Damien's "rescue"... and the deal he'd made with the devil himself.

He groaned, burying his face in the pillow. What the hell had he gotten himself into?

"Rise and shine, pet." Damien's voice, low and amused, cut through Antonio's self-pity. "Time to start your new life."

Antonio peeked out from under the covers, his breath catching at the sight before him. Damien stood at the foot of the bed, impeccably dressed in a charcoal suit that clung to his muscular frame like a second skin. His ice-blue eyes raked over Antonio's form, sending a shiver down his spine.

"Fuck off," Antonio mumbled, pulling the blanket over his head. "It's too early for your smug bullshit."

In an instant, the covers were ripped away. Antonio yelped as the cool air hit his skin, scrambling to cover himself.

Damien's hand shot out, gripping Antonio's chin and forcing him to meet that piercing gaze. "Lesson number one, pet. You don't tell me to fuck off. Ever. Unless you want a reminder of just who's in charge here."

Heat pooled in Antonio's belly at the threat, equal parts arousal and indignation. He jerked his face away, glaring up at Damien. "I'm not your fucking pet. I have a name, you know."

A slow, dangerous smile spread across Damien's face. "Oh, I know your name, Antonio Lombardi. I also know that as of last night, you belong to me. And I'll call you whatever I damn well please."

He released Antonio's chin, stepping back. "Now get up. We have a busy day ahead, and I won't have you lazing about like some pampered prince."

Antonio bristled at the command but found himself obeying despite himself. He slid out of bed, acutely aware of Damien's eyes on him as he stretched.

"There are clothes for you in the closet," Damien said, his voice deceptively casual. "I expect you dressed and ready in fifteen minutes. Don't make me come fetch you."

With that, he strode out of the room, leaving Antonio alone with his racing thoughts and uncomfortably tight boxer briefs.

Exactly fourteen minutes and thirty seconds later, Antonio emerged from the bedroom. He'd chosen the most modest outfit he could find—dark jeans and a simple white t-shirt that still managed to cling to his lean frame in all the right places.

Damien was waiting for him in the expansive living area, a steaming mug of coffee in hand. His eyes swept over Antonio's form, a flicker of approval in their icy depths.

"Cutting it close, pet," he drawled. "But I suppose I can forgive your tardiness. This time."

Antonio rolled his eyes, sauntering over to the coffee pot with as much nonchalance as he could muster. "How generous of you. I'm overcome with gratitude."

As he reached for a mug, Damien's hand shot out, wrapping around his wrist. "Ah ah," he chided. "You haven't earned your caffeine yet. Sit. We need to discuss the rules."

Antonio's temper flared. "Rules? What am I, five?"

Damien's grip tightened, just shy of painful. "You're whatever I say you are, pet. And right now, you're a bratty little sub who needs to learn his place. Now sit. Before I put you over my knee and teach you the hard way."

A jolt of heat shot straight to Antonio's groin at the threat. He wrenched his arm free, stomping over to the couch with as much defiance as he could muster. "Fine. Let's hear these oh-so-important rules of yours."

Damien settled into an armchair across from him, every inch the mafia prince on his throne. "It's quite simple, really. You'll do as I say, when I say it. No arguments, no backtalk. You'll address me as Sir or Mr. Benedetti in public. In private... well, we'll work up to that."

He leaned forward, eyes glittering with dark promise. "You'll wear what I tell you to wear, eat what I provide, sleep when and where I allow. Your body is mine to use as I see fit. And you will not, under any circumstances, attempt to contact your family or leave this penthouse without my express permission. Is that clear?"

Antonio's mouth went dry, his heart pounding in his chest. This was insane. He couldn't possibly agree to this, to give up every shred of his autonomy.

And yet... the thought of submitting to Damien, of letting the older man take control... it sent a thrill through him that he couldn't quite ignore.

"And what if I refuse?" he asked, chin lifted in defiance. "What if I tell you to take your rules and shove them up your perfectly sculpted ass?"

In an instant, Damien was on him. One large hand wrapped around Antonio's throat, not squeezing but a clear threat. The other gripped his hip, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.

"Then I remind you of our deal," Damien growled, his face inches from Antonio's. "I remind you that without me, you'd be rotting in Rizzo's warehouse or explaining to Mommy dearest why you owe a hundred grand to some very bad men. I remind you that you're only here, only safe, because I allow it."

His grip tightened, just enough to make Antonio's breath hitch. "And then I punish you, pet. Thoroughly and creatively, until you're begging me for forgiveness."

Antonio's body betrayed him, his cock hardening in his jeans. He squirmed, trying to hide his reaction, but Damien's knowing smirk told him he'd failed miserably.

"I—I understand," he managed to choke out. "Sir."

Damien's eyes flashed with triumph. He released Antonio, stepping back with a satisfied nod. "Good boy. We'll make a proper submissive out of you yet."

The rest of the day passed in a blur of conflicting emotions for Antonio. Damien kept him close, guiding him through the penthouse with a possessive hand on the small of his back. He explained the security systems, the areas that were off-limits, the expectations for Antonio's behavior.

And through it all, Antonio found himself torn between resentment at his captivity and a growing, reluctant attraction to his captor. Damien was infuriating, domineering, and arrogant as hell. But he was also unfairly gorgeous, with a dark charisma that drew Antonio in despite his best efforts to resist.

By the time evening fell, Antonio was a bundle of raw nerves and confused desire. He picked at the gourmet dinner Damien had ordered in, his appetite gone.

"Not hungry, pet?" Damien's voice was deceptively gentle. "Or just sulking?"

Antonio glared across the table. "Forgive me if I'm not in the mood to play happy families with my kidnapper."

Damien's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Watch your tone, boy. I've been patient with you today, but my generosity has limits."

"Generous?" Antonio scoffed, shoving his plate away. "You call this generous? Keeping me prisoner, treating me like your personal plaything?"

He stood abruptly, chair scraping against the hardwood floor. "You know what? I've had enough. I'm out of here."

Before Damien could react, Antonio bolted for the door. His fingers had just brushed the handle when a solid wall of muscle slammed into him from behind.

Damien pinned him against the door, one arm like an iron bar across Antonio's chest. His breath was hot against Antonio's ear as he growled, "And just where do you think you're going, pet?"

Antonio struggled against the larger man's grip, but it was like fighting a mountain. "Let me go, you psycho! I'm not your fucking pet, I'm not your anything!"

Damien spun him around, slamming Antonio's back against the door hard enough to knock the wind from his lungs. His hand came up to wrap around Antonio's throat, not squeezing but a clear threat.

"You're mine," he snarled, blue eyes blazing with possessive fury. "You gave yourself to me, remember? And I don't let go of what's mine. Ever."

Antonio's heart raced, fear and arousal warring for dominance. He should be terrified. Should be fighting with everything he had. But instead, he found himself melting into Damien's grip, a needy whine escaping his throat.

Damien's eyes darkened, his grip shifting from threatening to possessive. "That's it, pet," he murmured, voice dropping to a husky growl. "Give in. You know you want to."

For a moment, Antonio teetered on the edge of surrender. It would be so easy to let go, to give himself over to Damien's control. To lose himself in the heat and strength of the older man's body.

But a stubborn spark of defiance flared in his chest. He wasn't going to roll over that easily, dammit.

With a surge of adrenaline, Antonio brought his knee up sharply, aiming for Damien's groin. The older man twisted at the last second, avoiding the worst of the blow, but his grip loosened enough for Antonio to slip free.

He darted past Damien, making a break for the balcony. If he could just get outside, maybe he could find a way down, or at least call for help...

Antonio's fingers had just closed around the balcony door handle when Damien tackled him from behind. They went down in a tangle of limbs, Damien's larger body pinning Antonio to the plush carpet.

"You little brat," Damien growled, flipping Antonio onto his back and straddling his hips. He caught Antonio's wrists in one large hand, pinning them above his head. "I was going to be gentle with you, ease you into this. But it seems you need a firmer hand."

Antonio bucked beneath him, trying to throw the larger man off. But Damien's weight held him firmly in place, their bodies pressed together from chest to groin. The friction sent sparks of unwanted pleasure skittering up Antonio's spine.

"Get off me, you asshole!" Antonio snarled, refusing to acknowledge the way his body was responding to Damien's dominance. "I'm not your fucking toy!"

Damien's free hand came up to grip Antonio's jaw, forcing him to meet that piercing blue gaze. "No, you're not a toy," he said, voice low and dangerous. "You're so much more than that, pet. You're mine. My property, my responsibility, my greatest temptation."

He leaned in close, his lips brushing Antonio's ear. "And it's time you learned what that really means."

Before Antonio could respond, Damien was hauling him to his feet. With effortless strength, he tossed Antonio over his shoulder in a fireman's carry.

"Put me down!" Antonio yelped, pounding ineffectually at Damien's broad back. "Where the hell are you taking me?"

Damien's hand came down hard on Antonio's ass, the sharp sting making him gasp. "To teach you a lesson, brat. One you won't soon forget."

As Damien carried him deeper into the penthouse, towards a door Antonio hadn't noticed before, a thrill of fear and anticipation coursed through him. He'd pushed too far, crossed a line he couldn't uncross.

And now, it seemed, he was about to find out exactly what it meant to belong to Damien Benedetti.

The heavy door swung shut behind them with an ominous click, leaving Antonio trapped in Damien's domain, at the mercy of the man he'd so foolishly tried to defy.