7. Breaking Point

CHAPTER 7

brEAKING POINT

The tension in the safe house had reached a fever pitch. Days of close quarters, heated glances, and near-misses had left both Enzo and Matteo on edge. Every interaction felt charged, laden with unspoken desire and simmering frustration.

Enzo paced the length of his bedroom, restless energy thrumming through his veins. He'd spent the past week pushing every one of Matteo's buttons, testing the limits of the older man's control. And while he'd seen cracks in Matteo's stoic facade, the enforcer had yet to truly break.

It was maddening. Exhilarating. Utterly intoxicating.

A knock at the door jolted Enzo from his thoughts. "Yeah?" he called, trying to keep his voice casual.

Matteo's deep baritone came through the wood, sending an involuntary shiver down Enzo's spine. "Training in ten minutes. Don't be late."

Enzo rolled his eyes, even as a thrill of anticipation coursed through him. "Yes, sir," he drawled, injecting as much sarcasm as he could muster into the words.

He heard Matteo's low growl, followed by retreating footsteps. Enzo grinned to himself. Another chink in the armor.

As he changed into workout clothes – the tiniest shorts he owned and a tank top that left little to the imagination – Enzo considered his next move. He'd tried everything short of throwing himself naked at Matteo. Maybe it was time to up the ante.

When Enzo sauntered into the backyard, he found Matteo setting up a makeshift obstacle course. The older man's back was to him, giving Enzo a perfect view of the way Matteo's muscles shifted beneath his tight t-shirt.

"What's all this?" Enzo asked, deliberately pitching his voice low and sultry.

Matteo turned, his eyes widening almost imperceptibly as they raked over Enzo's form. "Agility training," he said gruffly, clearing his throat. "You need to be able to maneuver in tight spaces, evade pursuers."

Enzo smirked, sauntering closer. "Oh, I'm very good at maneuvering in tight spaces," he purred, watching with satisfaction as Matteo's jaw clenched.

"Enough," Matteo growled, his voice rough. "Five laps to warm up. Now."

Enzo considered arguing, but the dangerous glint in Matteo's eye made him think better of it. He set off at a steady jog, making sure to put an extra sway in his hips as he passed Matteo.

As they ran, Enzo could feel Matteo's eyes on him, burning a hole in his back. The weight of that gaze sent sparks skittering across his skin, arousal coiling hot and heavy in his gut.

By the time they finished the warm-up, Enzo was already breathing harder than he should have been, and it had nothing to do with exertion.

"Alright," Matteo said, his voice clipped. "Let's see what you can do with this course. Remember, speed and precision are key."

Enzo nodded, eyeing the various obstacles – low hurdles, balance beams, and what looked like a climbing wall. "What do I get if I beat your time?" he asked, unable to resist pushing just a little more.

Matteo's eyes narrowed. "This isn't a game, Enzo."

"Isn't it?" Enzo challenged, stepping closer. "Come on, old man. Where's your competitive spirit?"

For a moment, Enzo thought he might have pushed too far. Matteo's eyes flashed dangerously, his hands clenching at his sides. But then a slow, predatory smile spread across the older man's face.

"Fine," Matteo growled. "You beat my time, you get to choose our next training session. But if I win..." He trailed off, his gaze raking over Enzo's body in a way that made the younger man's breath catch. "If I win, you do exactly as I say for the next 24 hours. No arguments, no sass. Just complete obedience. Deal?"

Enzo's heart raced, equal parts excitement and trepidation flooding his veins. This was it – the opening he'd been waiting for. "Deal," he said, holding out his hand.

Matteo's grip was firm, his palm rough with calluses. The touch sent electricity zinging up Enzo's arm, and he had to bite back a whimper.

"I'll go first," Matteo said, releasing Enzo's hand. "Pay attention. You might learn something."

With that, he was off. Enzo watched in awe as Matteo navigated the course with fluid grace, each movement precise and controlled. He cleared hurdles with ease, balanced across narrow beams without hesitation, and scaled the climbing wall like it was nothing.

When Matteo landed on the other side, barely out of breath, Enzo couldn't help but feel a twinge of doubt. Maybe he'd bitten off more than he could chew.

"Two minutes, seventeen seconds," Matteo announced, a hint of smugness in his tone. "Think you can beat that, brat?"

The nickname, usually spoken with exasperation, now held a hint of something darker. Something that made Enzo's cock twitch with interest.

"Watch me," Enzo said, flashing his most cocky grin.

He took his place at the starting line, bouncing on the balls of his feet. At Matteo's signal, he was off like a shot.

Enzo threw himself into the course with reckless abandon, pushing his body to its limits. He cleared the hurdles with practiced ease – all those drunken escapades from angry boyfriends coming in handy. The balance beam was trickier, but he managed to stay upright, if not exactly graceful.

It was the climbing wall that proved to be his downfall. Quite literally.

As Enzo reached for the top, his foot slipped. He scrabbled for purchase, panic flaring in his chest as he felt himself start to fall.

And then, suddenly, strong arms were around him. Matteo had appeared out of nowhere, catching Enzo before he could hit the ground.

For a moment, they just stared at each other, both breathing heavily. Enzo was acutely aware of every point of contact between them – Matteo's arms around his waist, his own hands gripping Matteo's shoulders, their chests pressed together.

"You okay?" Matteo asked, his voice low and rough.

Enzo nodded, not trusting himself to speak. This close, he could see the flecks of silver in Matteo's steel-gray eyes, could count each of his unfairly long eyelashes.

"You need to be more careful," Matteo growled, his grip on Enzo tightening. "What if I hadn't been here to catch you?"

The genuine concern in Matteo's voice made something warm bloom in Enzo's chest. "But you were," he said softly. "You're always there to catch me."

Matteo's eyes darkened, his gaze dropping to Enzo's lips. For a breathless moment, Enzo thought he might actually kiss him.

But then Matteo was setting him on his feet, stepping back with visible reluctance. "You didn't finish the course," he said gruffly. "I win."

Reality came crashing back, and Enzo felt a mixture of disappointment and anticipation coil in his gut. "Right," he said, aiming for nonchalance. "So, what's my first order, boss?"

Matteo's eyes glittered dangerously. "Go take a shower. Then meet me in the study. We've got work to do."

As Enzo trudged inside, he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd just stepped into something far more intense than he'd bargained for. But as he remembered the heat in Matteo's eyes, the possessive grip of his hands, Enzo found he didn't much care.

Whatever Matteo had in store for him, Enzo was all in.

The shower did little to calm Enzo's racing thoughts or his uncomfortably persistent arousal. As he toweled off, he debated what to wear. Part of him wanted to show up in nothing but a towel, just to see how far he could push Matteo's control.

But the look in the older man's eyes earlier – that dangerous, predatory glint – made Enzo reconsider. He had a feeling that if he pushed too far, too fast, Matteo might just snap.

Enzo settled on a pair of tight jeans and a soft, well-worn t-shirt. Casual, but still tempting. He ran a hand through his damp curls, giving his reflection one last appraising look before heading to the study.

He found Matteo at the desk, poring over what looked like financial records. The older man didn't look up as Enzo entered, just pointed to a chair across from him. "Sit."

The command, delivered in that low, gravelly voice, sent a shiver down Enzo's spine. He complied without argument, for once.

"These are the latest reports from your family's legitimate businesses," Matteo said, sliding a folder towards Enzo. "I want you to go through them, identify any discrepancies or areas of concern."

Enzo blinked, thrown by the mundane task. "What, no forced push-ups? No scrubbing the floors with a toothbrush?"

Matteo's eyes flicked up, a hint of amusement in their steel-gray depths. "Would you prefer that?"

"No," Enzo said quickly. "This is fine."

For the next hour, they worked in relative silence. Enzo found himself surprisingly engrossed in the task, his quick mind picking up on patterns and inconsistencies that others might have missed. Every so often, he'd glance up to find Matteo watching him with an intensity that made his skin prickle.

Finally, Enzo sat back with a sigh. "I think I've found something," he said, pushing the folder towards Matteo. "There's a discrepancy in the shipping manifests for the docks. Looks like someone's skimming off the top."

Matteo leaned forward, his brow furrowing as he examined Enzo's notes. Their hands brushed as he took the folder, and Enzo had to suppress a gasp at the jolt of electricity that passed between them.

"Good work," Matteo said, genuine approval in his voice. "Your father will want to know about this."

Enzo preened a bit under the praise, warmth blooming in his chest. "Thanks. So, what's next on the agenda, boss?"

Matteo's lips twitched in what might have been a smile. "Now, we eat. I'm thinking takeout. Any preferences?"

Enzo blinked, thrown once again by the normalcy of it all. "Uh, pizza? As long as it doesn't have pineapple on it. That's a crime against nature."

This time, Matteo did smile – a small, private thing that made Enzo's heart skip. "Agreed. I'll place the order."

As Matteo stepped out to make the call, Enzo slumped in his chair, feeling oddly deflated. This wasn't at all how he'd imagined his 24 hours of "complete obedience" going. Where were the outrageous demands, the humiliating tasks, the barely restrained sexual tension?

When Matteo returned, Enzo couldn't keep the frustration from his voice. "Is this really all you're going to do with your win? Make me do homework and eat pizza?"

Matteo's eyes narrowed, something dark and hungry flashing in their depths. "Careful what you wish for, brat. The night's still young."

The promise in those words sent heat pooling in Enzo's gut. He opened his mouth to retort, but Matteo cut him off.

"Go set the table," he ordered. "Plates are in the cabinet above the sink. And Enzo?" He paused, his gaze raking over the younger man in a way that made Enzo's breath catch. "I expect you to be on your best behavior tonight. Understand?"

Enzo nodded, not trusting himself to speak. As he headed to the kitchen on shaky legs, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was walking into the lion's den. And God help him, he couldn't wait.

Dinner was a quiet affair, the silence broken only by the clink of cutlery and the occasional rustle of napkins. Enzo found himself hyper-aware of every move Matteo made, every subtle shift in his expression.

As they finished eating, Matteo fixed Enzo with an intense stare. "Clear the table," he said, his voice low and commanding. "Then meet me in the living room."

Enzo's heart raced as he gathered the dishes, anticipation thrumming through his veins. This was it – the moment he'd been waiting for.

When he entered the living room, he found Matteo standing by the fireplace, a tumbler of whiskey in hand. The older man's posture was relaxed, but there was a tension in his shoulders that betrayed his calm facade.

"Come here," Matteo said, crooking a finger at Enzo.

Enzo moved without conscious thought, drawn to Matteo like a moth to a flame. He stopped just out of arm's reach, pulse pounding in his ears.

"You've been pushing me all week," Matteo said, his voice dangerously soft. "Testing my limits, seeing how far you could go before I snapped. Why?"

Enzo swallowed hard, caught off guard by the directness of the question. "I... I don't know," he stammered.

Matteo's eyes flashed. "Don't lie to me, Enzo. Not tonight. Tell me the truth."

The command in Matteo's tone broke something loose in Enzo's chest. "Because I want you," he blurted out. "Because I'm tired of pretending I don't. Because I'm sick of you looking at me like you want to devour me whole and then acting like nothing happened."

For a long moment, Matteo just stared at him, his expression unreadable. Then, with deliberate slowness, he set down his glass and closed the distance between them.

"Is that what you want?" Matteo growled, his voice low and dangerous. "For me to devour you?"

Enzo nodded, not trusting himself to speak. His entire body thrummed with need, every nerve ending on high alert.

Matteo's hand came up to cup Enzo's jaw, his touch surprisingly gentle. "You have no idea what you're asking for, brat. No idea what I'm capable of."

"Then show me," Enzo challenged, tilting his chin up defiantly.

With a growl that sent shivers down Enzo's spine, Matteo surged forward, claiming Enzo's mouth in a bruising kiss. It was nothing like their first, tentative encounter on the couch. This was all teeth and tongue, a clash of wills as much as a joining of bodies.

Enzo gave as good as he got, tangling his fingers in Matteo's hair and pulling him closer. He'd dreamed of this for weeks, imagined it a thousand different ways. But nothing could have prepared him for the reality of Matteo's hands on his body, Matteo's taste on his tongue.

When they finally broke apart, both panting for air, Matteo's eyes were dark with hunger. "Last chance to back out," he warned, his voice rough. "If we do this, there's no going back. You'll be mine, completely. To do with as I please."

The possessiveness in Matteo's tone sent a thrill through Enzo. "Yes," he breathed. "Please, Matteo. I want it. I want you."

With a growl that was more animal than human, Matteo hoisted Enzo up, hands gripping his thighs. Enzo wrapped his legs around Matteo's waist, gasping at the friction as their bodies pressed together.

Matteo carried him to the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind them. He tossed Enzo onto the bed, looming over him with predatory intent.

"Strip," Matteo commanded, his voice brooking no argument.

Enzo complied eagerly, shimmying out of his clothes with clumsy haste. When he was finally naked, spread out on the sheets, he looked up to find Matteo watching him with an intensity that made his breath catch.

"Beautiful," Matteo murmured, his eyes raking over Enzo's form. "Fucking perfect."

He stripped off his own shirt, revealing a torso sculpted by years of hard work and harder living. Enzo's mouth went dry at the sight, his cock twitching with interest.

Matteo crawled onto the bed, covering Enzo's body with his own. The skin-to-skin contact was electric, sending sparks skittering along Enzo's nerve endings.

"Tell me what you want," Matteo growled, nipping at Enzo's throat. "Tell me how to please you, baby."

Enzo whimpered, overwhelmed by sensation and the weight of Matteo's words. "I... I want you to take control," he gasped out. "Want you to make me yours, make me feel it."

A dark chuckle rumbled through Matteo's chest. "Oh, you'll feel it alright. I'm going to wreck you, baby boy. Ruin you for anyone else."

The pet name sent a shiver down Enzo's spine. He'd never been one for submission, had always fought tooth and nail against anyone trying to control him. But with Matteo, he found himself craving it, aching to give himself over completely.

Matteo's hands roamed Enzo's body, rough and possessive. He pinched a nipple, drawing a sharp gasp from Enzo. "So responsive," Matteo purred. "Such a good boy for Daddy."

Enzo's cock twitched at the word, a needy whine escaping his throat. "Please," he begged, not entirely sure what he was asking for.

"Shh," Matteo soothed, pressing a surprisingly tender kiss to Enzo's forehead. "Daddy's got you. Just let go, baby. Let me take care of you."

With that, Matteo began working his way down Enzo's body, leaving a trail of bites and kisses in his wake. When he reached Enzo's cock, angry red and leaking against his stomach, he paused.

"Look at you," Matteo murmured, his breath hot against Enzo's sensitive skin. "So hard for me, so desperate. Tell me what you need, baby boy."

Enzo bucked his hips, seeking friction. "Your mouth," he gasped. "Please, Daddy, I need your mouth on me."

Matteo's eyes flashed with approval. "Since you asked so nicely..."

Without warning, he swallowed Enzo down to the root. Enzo cried out, his back arching off the bed at the sudden, intense pleasure. Matteo's mouth was hot and wet and perfect, his tongue doing things that made Enzo see stars.

Just as Enzo felt himself approaching the edge, Matteo pulled off with an obscene pop. Enzo whined at the loss, his hips chasing Matteo's mouth.

"Not yet," Matteo growled, his voice rough with desire. "You don't come until I say so. Understand?"

Enzo nodded frantically, willing to agree to anything as long as Matteo kept touching him.

Matteo reached for the nightstand, retrieving a bottle of lube. "Spread your legs for me, baby. Let Daddy see that pretty hole."

Enzo complied, flushing at the exposure but too turned on to care. He felt the cool touch of slicked fingers against his entrance and tensed instinctively.

"Relax," Matteo murmured, his free hand stroking Enzo's thigh soothingly. "I've got you. Just breathe."

As Matteo worked him open with careful, methodical movements, Enzo found himself lost in a haze of pleasure. By the time Matteo had three fingers inside him, curling and stretching in all the right ways, Enzo was a writhing mess.

"Please," he babbled, fucking himself back on Matteo's fingers. "I'm ready, I need you inside me, Daddy, please."

Matteo groaned, his control visibly slipping. "Fuck, baby. The things you do to me."

He withdrew his fingers, ignoring Enzo's whine of protest. Enzo watched through heavy-lidded eyes as Matteo slicked up his impressive cock, positioning himself at Enzo's entrance.

"Last chance to back out," Matteo warned, his voice strained.

Enzo wrapped his legs around Matteo's waist, pulling him closer. "Fuck me," he demanded. "Make me yours."

With a growl, Matteo pushed in, the thick head of his cock breaching Enzo's tight rim. They both groaned at the sensation, Enzo's body stretching to accommodate Matteo's considerable girth.

"So tight," Matteo gritted out, his arms trembling with the effort of holding back. "So perfect for me, baby boy."

When Matteo was finally fully seated, he paused, giving Enzo time to adjust. The stretch burned, but in the best possible way. Enzo had never felt so full, so utterly possessed.

"Move," Enzo gasped, rocking his hips. "Please, Daddy, I need..."

Matteo didn't need to be told twice. He pulled out almost completely before slamming back in, setting a punishing pace that had Enzo seeing stars. Each thrust hit Enzo's prostate with unerring accuracy, sending jolts of pleasure up his spine.

"That's it," Matteo growled, his voice rough with exertion. "Take it, baby. Take Daddy's cock like the good little slut you are."

The filthy words sent heat pooling in Enzo's gut, his neglected cock leaking steadily between their bodies. "Please," he whimpered, not even sure what he was begging for anymore.

Matteo seemed to understand anyway. He shifted his weight, bracing himself on one arm so he could wrap a hand around Enzo's cock. "Come for me," he commanded, stroking in time with his thrusts. "Let me feel you, baby boy."

It was too much. The dual stimulation, combined with Matteo's words and the overwhelming sensation of being so thoroughly claimed, pushed Enzo over the edge. He came with a hoarse cry, spilling hot and messy between their bodies.

The clench of Enzo's muscles triggered Matteo's own release. With a guttural groan, he buried himself deep, filling Enzo with pulse after pulse of heat.

For a long moment, they stayed like that, both panting and trembling in the aftermath. Then, with infinite care, Matteo eased out of Enzo and collapsed beside him.

Enzo whined at the loss, immediately curling into Matteo's solid warmth. To his surprise, Matteo gathered him close, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead.

"You did so well for me, baby," Matteo murmured, his voice soft with affection. "So perfect, so good for Daddy."

Enzo preened under the praise, a warm contentment settling in his bones. He felt boneless, utterly wrecked in the best possible way.

As Matteo cleaned them both up with gentle touches, Enzo found himself drifting, hovering on the edge of sleep. But a nagging thought kept him from fully relaxing.

"Matteo?" he mumbled, fighting to keep his eyes open.

"Hmm?"

"What happens now? With us, I mean."

Matteo was quiet for a long moment, his hand stilling where it had been carding through Enzo's hair. Just when Enzo thought he wasn't going to answer, Matteo spoke.

"Now," he said, his voice low and fierce, "you're mine. Completely. And I take care of what's mine, Enzo. Always."

The possessiveness in Matteo's tone sent a shiver down Enzo's spine, equal parts thrilling and terrifying. He knew they still had a lot to figure out – the complications of their positions, the dangers that lurked outside these walls. But for now, wrapped in Matteo's arms, Enzo felt safer than he ever had before.

"Yours," he agreed, snuggling closer. "I like the sound of that."

As sleep finally claimed him, Enzo's last coherent thought was that maybe, just maybe, he'd found where he truly belonged. In the arms of a man who saw him for who he really was, who challenged him and protected him in equal measure.

Whatever came next, whatever obstacles they faced, Enzo knew one thing for certain: He and Matteo would face it together. And God help anyone who tried to come between them.