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70 pages, Kindle Edition
First published November 1, 2018
Bobby let out a little growl. “We’re done, for now, I guess, if you’re going to beat me for caring.”
Angelo took Bobby by the chin and directed his head up, brushing a few stray strands of dark hair out of Bobby’s eyes with his other hand as he spoke gently in tones which were more thickly accented than usual.
“Don’t care for me, Bobby. Don’t start to make that mistake. I swear, it will only hurt you in the end - worse than I intend for you to be hurt. I took you against your will. I brought as a prisoner and I have made sure at every turn that you burn with hatred for me. None of that is an accident. Don’t fall in love with me.. It won’t end well.”
Bobby’s gaze started to well. “You’re fucked up, Angelo.”
“Beyond your wildest dreams, boy,” Angelo purred, brushing his lips across Bobby’s mouth. “Now go get cleaned up. You have work to do.”
“I’m going to care about you,” Bobby said as soon as he’d levered himself out of arm’s reach. “And there’s nothing you can do about it.”
An explosion of motion sent sheets flying as Angelo lunged up, grabbed Bobby by the arm and the back of the neck and pulled him back down on the bed, pinning him prone against the wet spot where their seed had been spilled.
“I can do everything about it, boy,” Angelo growled, his hand tight on the back of Bobby’s neck. “I can make your world so painful you don’t know what love is anymore.”
“You already tried that,” Bobby growled. “Stop being an asshole.”
“No,” Angelo snarled back, his voice holding an intensity which made Bobby tremble. “You will do as you are told, boy. You will manage your emotions. You will understand that this is not a traditional relationship. We are not boyfriends. We are not a couple. You are my prisoner. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
Bobby shook his head, insomuch as he could. “You can beat me, Angelo, but what are you going to do to yourself?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean what are you going to do about the fact you love me?”
Angelo’s voice became so low and so cold, Bobby nearly felt his marrow freeze.
“You’ve forgotten your place, boy. It’s time you were reminded of it.”
“Fuck you!” Bobby swore again as the conflict turned brutally physical, a true fight which resulted in them both losing their balance and tumbling down the stairs sideways, rolling over one another, bumping and bruising all the way to the shattered glass below.
Angelo landed atop Bobby in the end, pinning the boy beneath him. They were both bruised. Both hurt. They were both bleeding from grazes and cuts. Both breathing hard. A rough kiss bloomed between them, Angelo’s lips capturing Bobby’s in a lip lock of pure passion.
In the kiss, Bobby relaxed. The tension flowed out of his body and into his cock. Angelo felt Bobby’s erection pressed against his inner thigh. There it was. The heat between them, the love that existed even though it perhaps shouldn’t. The bond that was tested in fire every time they came together. Cut from the same cloth. Made from the same mold. Perhaps it was narcissistic, but it was more than that. It was the understanding that could only take place between two sides of the same coin.
“Bad boy,” Angelo growled against Bobby’s mouth. “You know what happens to bad boys, don’t you?”
“Fuck you,” Bobby moaned back.
What happened next was a foregone conclusion. Their brutal foreplay at an end, their hands tore at one another’s clothing, Angelo’s fly giving way to the rampant rod of his cock. Bobby’s pants were ripped at the seams, his legs pushed back against his belly, his ass exposed. That tight little hole Angelo had fucked just hours earlier still showing traces of lube and cum.
Angelo didn’t waste a moment before plunging inside Bobby, pushing his cock into that tight little hole which gripped him with heat and hot rage.
The glass was all around them, blood smearing marble floor as Angelo fucked Bobby into submission, sinking himself into that rebellious, tight flesh which needed him as much as he needed it. Two sides of the same coin. Cut from the same cloth. Whatever you called it, it was a meeting of dark flesh, a shedding of bright blood.
Dangerous, perhaps, but neither of them cared about the cuts and scrapes they were incurring, Angelo’s cock plunging in and out, over and over, looking for the quick, rough, peak of orgasm.
Bobby’s hands wrapped around his neck, holding and grasping, just holding off choking. There was hatred and love burning in the boy’s gaze. As much as Angelo tried to kill the love in Bobby and in himself, it persisted, a dangerous, dark connection which would have to be broken.
But not today. Today that love had them both in its grasp, a bond which was sick by all accounts, but no less powerful for that fact, a bond which made the tight ring of muscle around Angelo’s cock contract over and over as the boy came closer to his own climax, wailing and writhing in the mess he had made.
Seed roiled in Angelo’s balls, hit the shaft of his cock and burst forth coating the inner walls of the boy’s clenching ass as he roared his triumph, his domination, and his victory. Hot, wet cum joined their stomachs, Bobby’s orgasm coinciding with Angelo’s, both shuddering and grunting and thrusting until finally they collapsed together in the chaos of their making, panting softly.
“Better?”
Angelo looked up to see Mark was standing over them, broom in one hand, sandwich in the other.
“Much.”
“I don’t understand you at all,” Mark sighed. “Bobby tries to get close to you, you throw him into the snow. He tries to kill you and you kiss it all better.”
“You don’t need to understand,” Angelo said, standing, and helping Bobby to do the same.
Bobby was bleeding from a small cut to his forehead, but the anger and the sulking rage had gone, replaced with a broad smile. Mark probably didn’t understand that either, but Angelo did. And that was all that mattered.
“Angelo, would it kill you to tell us why you felt the need to put Bobby out in the damn snow and then fuck him in a bed of broken glass?” Mark was playing nurse, cleaning Bobby’s cuts and grazes while Angelo looked on, having already been attended to. “Quit squirming,” he added.
“I’m not squirming. Hurry up. And Angelo, you better lock Mark up outside for asking that,” Bobby smirked. If he was in pain, he didn’t care. He’d needed catharsis and connection. He’d gotten both. He’d be satisfied now, even if Mark wasn’t.
Angelo looked down at the love of his life. His messy, disheveled boyfriend who had, as usual, not done a single thing since Angelo last saw him. Sometimes it was more like having a cat than a lover.
He wasn’t dressed. He hadn’t even gotten up out of bed. He was lying there with a bowl of candy cereal, one of many bad dietary decisions which hadn’t yet started to cover his abs with fat.
Antonio Carelli was eighteen years old, maybe a little too young for Angelo, but Angelo took care of him. Made sure Antonio had everything he needed. The young man’s parents had kicked him onto the streets and Angelo had picked him up, put him together.
*
Angelo bent down and pressed a fond kiss to Antonio’s lips. The kiss deepened into something more passionate. Antonio’s innocence was precious, but it was fading by the day as Angelo led him into ever more intense sexual exploration. The younger man was eager, and try as he might to not take advantage, Antonio practically insisted on it.
“What have you been doing all day?” Angelo broke the kiss and lifted a brow at Antonio.
The young man sat up and ran a hand through his bed tussled dark hair. God, he was gorgeous. Big brown eyes, the soulful, sensitive kind, hair that needed a cut but he refused to get one. One piercing in his nose and another in his ear. A slim body, not powerful, but still muscled in the way fit young men with little in the way of body fat are.
*
He pulled Antonio into his arms and they made the kind of free love which only the young can have, the love shared between two hearts as yet unfettered with the cares of the world, or the weight of real responsibility.
Antonio was soft and compliant, his erection stiffening as Angelo covered his body. Angelo was so much larger, more muscular, more powerful. There was something delicate about Antonio. Something that cried out for protection - and desecration.
There were advantages to having a lazy boyfriend who never got dressed or got out of bed, for that matter. A drawer full of condoms and lube at hand was also convenient. Angelo stripped off his jacket and shirt, opened his pants and pushed them down just enough to let his cock spring free. Another ripped condom wrapper joined the collection forming like fall leaves next to the bed.
Antonio let out the most perfect sigh as Angelo parted his hot cheeks and found that dark little hole which belonged to nobody in the world besides him. They’d been together for six months now, long enough for that hole to become accustomed to him, to relax for him while still staying so deliciously, youthfully tight.
Being inside Antonio was hot and perfect. Angelo wrapped the younger man in his arms and surged inside him over and over again, his cock finding that perfect place where they were both so satisfied it felt as though the world itself was melting around them.
His hunger for Antonio was like no other. It was as if the boy called to every part of him; his lustful side, his nurturing side, even the darker side he battled against daily.
Antonio’s hips rose against him, urging him deeper. The boy was starving for affection, and for cock. The sounds he made were ones of pure unrelenting pleasure, an almost constant moaning growl emitting from his throat. Angelo’s hands slid from their embrace, one finding the stiff rod of Antonio’s dick, the other closing lightly around the front of his neck, holding him in a possessive, sexual grip which became the catalyst for the final pounding, writhing crescendo of their love.
As much as Angelo wanted to last longer, the two of them together were pure fire and in minutes twin geysers of sperm marked the climax of their tryst. Angelo’s found the barrier of the condom. Antonio’s made the bed sheets that little bit more sticky and crusty.
“Fuck yeah,” Antonio breathed.
“Good boy,” Angelo rumbled in return.
The next years and decades were busy ones. With nobody to love, Angelo was completely, utterly free to make whatever decisions most appealed to him, and to risk everything time and time again. It did not matter to him if he lost his life. Antonio was waiting for him on the other side - of that he had no doubt.
“I have a job for you, if you’re interested.”
“I’m listening.” Angelo didn’t take jobs, but he wanted to know what Mason had to say.
“I’ve got trouble. Boy going by the name Bobby Cornoli. Nasty little piece of work, vicious, cruel little fucker. He’s running a corner in Brooklyn.”
“Sounds familiar,” Angelo purred.
“Mhm. I thought it would. Anyway, this boy isn’t a legal takedown option. He’s too smart for that, but he’s doing his damndest to kill my client. So here’s what I propose. You take Bobby. See if you can make him see sense. I’ll owe you one.”
“You want me to shakedown a small time brat?” “I want you to do more than that. I want you to get him off the streets. For good.”
“Mason, you’re the mercenary.”
“Security specialist,” Mason corrected smoothly. “And I’m not asking you to kill him. Just, find a use for him. I’m sending a picture.”
Angelo glanced down at his phone. An image appeared on the screen. A boy, very early twenties in age. Dark hair, dark eyes, handsome. It wasn’t his looks which made it so impossible for Angelo to pull his eyes away from the picture though, it was the expression on his face. The same expression he’d once seen in the mirror. A bolt of recognition fizzed through Angelo’s chest and belly, found his cock and made it instantly swell. He wasn’t looking at some troublesome thug, or would be wise guy. He was looking at the future.
Angelo put the phone to his ear, a dark smile claiming his mouth.
“I’ll deal with him.”
Angelo opened one eye at Bobby, who was laying next to him, his head propped up on one arm, looking at him with a rebellious expression. He was beautiful in the low light of the room, those deep dark eyes holding so much barely repressed feral instinct in their gaze.
Would Antonio have liked Bobby? Probably not. Bobby was one of the most vicious and unlikeable little brutes Angelo had ever come across. His repeated murder attempts would have upset Antonio greatly. Then again, Antonio probably wouldn’t like who Angelo had turned into either.
“Boy,” Angelo growled. “I will take my belt to your ass if you keep it up.”
“Yeah? So? That would be the least painful thing that happened to me today.”
The corners of Angelo’s lips turned up into a smile. He was being baited by the boy, who could not get enough pleasure, or enough pain. Bobby may never know it, but he was the bright light at the end of a very long tunnel, and in claiming him, Angelo had found something he never expected to find twice in the same lifetime: love.