by Renard, Loki
Maybe he was right. Mark didn’t know what was going to happen now. All he knew was that he was trapped in a way he’d never been trapped before. Angelo had him restrained mentally, tied up in a thousand excruciating internal knots.
“I’d like to talk to Bobby,” Mark said. Bobby wasn’t with them at that exact moment, he was off doing another chore. Angelo was working him hard after the whole near assassination thing, though Mark noted that the punishment wasn’t really all that serious. Shining shoes and getting coffee wasn’t really fitting punishment for threatening murder.
Angelo smiled softly. “You need not worry about his jealousy. He will not touch you if I do not command it.”
“Still. I want to talk to him. Alone.”
Angelo steepled his fingers. “Are you trying to play a game with me, Agent Locke?” He seemed rather pleased by the prospect. “Very well.”
He lifted his voice and called out.
“Bobby! Go with Mark. He wishes to entertain you alone in his room.”
* * *
Bobby followed Mark upstairs wordlessly. It felt good to have him trailing behind, doing as he was told. Mark didn’t have power like this in the outside world. No hot young men delivered themselves to his room out there.
“Kneel for me, Bobby.” The words came from Mark’s lips so naturally once they were inside what he’d started to think of as his chambers. He’d miss this room when he was free, and that was fucked up. He’d have to buy some new sheets too. There was no going back to polyester after Egyptian cotton.
Bobby obeyed, sliding to his knees with an elegance that Mark admired greatly. There was no real need to have Bobby on his knees. He could have spoken with him sitting in a chair, but it was too tempting to use the power he had while he still had it. His time with Vitali was coming to an end one way or another and they all knew it.
“Tell me,” he said. “Do you still want to kill me?”
“With all my heart,” Bobby replied. “You’re a fucking cop.”
“It’s that simple for you, huh?”
“I’m simple.” Bobby shrugged.
Mark didn’t believe him. A simple man couldn’t ever have been with Angelo Vitali. Angelo was one of the most complex people Mark had ever met.
“You want to know if I’m okay with you sleeping with him,” Bobby said perceptively. “It doesn’t matter. He wants to be inside you, so I know he will be sooner or later.”
“Only if I let him.”
Bobby laughed without humor. “He makes you think you have a choice. You don’t.”
Mark didn’t disagree with him. Here, in this house, Angelo was a god. To leave it, he’d have to give in to what that god wanted. But there was more than just Angelo to think about. He’d been with Bobby twice. More times than he’d been with anyone else in his life. That meant something. Maybe not what it would traditionally mean, but still, something.
“What about you and I?”
Bobby’s dark eyes flashed. “There is no you and I. There never will be. You’re a fed. I’d slit your fucking throat if I could.”
Oh but he was a hateful little thing. Mark felt the impulse to punish him rise. He wanted to take him by his hair and toss him on the bed and ravage him until he was absolutely breathless.
Fuck it. This was probably the last chance he’d ever have to do it. He pointed to the bed.
“Get naked and lay down.”
Bobby gave him a mocking look even as he stood up and started to undress, stripping the shirt and slacks from his muscular compact frame. “You’re not as good as Angelo,” he taunted Mark. “You never will be. That’s why in the end we’ll take you down.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah.”
“Lay down. Pull your knees up. Show me your ass.” Mark gritted the words out, letting his baser impulses take over.
The younger man did as he was told, putting himself into the lewd position. His asshole was displayed so perfectly like that, his cock hardening against his belly as he laid back and put his hands on his knees to pull them up and back.
“I’ve mostly fucked women in this position,” Mark said, pulling his cock out. He didn’t even bother to remove his clothing. He wanted to rail Bobby nice and hard one last time, prove a point to the little fucker. “I’m going to fuck you like a bitch, Bobby.”
He saw Bobby’s cock twitch at the word. “You mean before Angelo tears you a new asshole,” Bobby sneered. “He’s bigger than you. You’re going to scream like a girl.”
“Yeah?” Mark stepped forward and slapped Bobby’s ass. “Is that right?”
“Yeah.”
Mark grabbed some lube and dribbled a generous amount over Bobby’s asshole before rubbing it in with the head of his cock. Fuck, this boy was beautiful. He had Polish blood, not Italian, and it translated to a haughty elegance and pale visage that made Mark rock hard as he started to slowly sink into the rebellious little ass.
“Yesss…” he hissed the word to himself. Pulling Bobby’s legs up onto his shoulders, he worked his cock in and out slowly. There was no need to rush this. It was the third time, the last time. Hated or not, he wanted to leave Bobby with something to remember.
Bobby’s head fell back as he reveled in the fucking. Mark got the impression Angelo didn’t do this very often with him. The punishment he was giving Bobby wasn’t pain. It was pleasure. It was some kind of tenderness. Maybe he’d remember this later on. Maybe it would have some kind of lasting effect.
Mark leaned down, grabbed Bobby by his hair, and kissed him. Deeply, slowly, with passion. He saw confusion and lust in Bobby’s eyes as their tongues swirled slowly in a dance of intimate connection.
“You’re worth more than this,” he said, breaking the kiss and pumping his hips slowly in and out of Bobby’s ass.
“Fuck off, I hate you,” Bobby growled. Mark held himself still and captured Bobby’s face again, gazing down into those pretty dark eyes that were so different from Angelo’s. When Mark looked into Angelo’s eyes, he saw the devil. Bobby’s evil was of a different kind. Impulsive and young, he was being shaped by the worst influence in the world.
“Fight for yourself,” Mark whispered, pressing a soft kiss to Bobby’s lips before rearing up and thrusting deep again, forcing a rough cry from Bobby as he rode the boy to a mutual climax which swelled between them, hatred meeting with tenderness in a stormy orgasm that began in Mark’s balls and travelled between their flesh, seeming to emerge from Bobby’s cock as they came at the same time, seed shooting both inside Bobby and across his belly.
“Don’t forget,” Mark said as he pushed his cock back into his pants.
“Die, asshole,” Bobby panted. His comment might have held more sting if his ass weren’t drooling Mark’s cum.
15
Angelo was still on the terrace when Mark returned. He seemed unconcerned and uninterested in whatever Mark had done with Bobby upstairs. He gave Mark a brief nod as Mark approached, then watched with what passed for surprise as Mark stripped himself naked as swiftly as humanly possible and stood before him without a hint of clothing, his cock still gleaming with lube and cum from being inside Bobby.
“I’m ready.”
“So I see,” Angelo said, putting his cup to the side with a smile. “Very dramatic, Agent Locke.”
“Should I just bend over the table and have you do me here?”
“You sound petulant,” Angelo said. “That’s not how this is going to be.”
“No? How is it going to be?”
“You’re going to ask me nicely,” Angelo purred, standing up. He approached Mark. Unlike when Angelo looked at Bobby, there was no height difference between them. Mark could look this man dead in the eye, and he did.
This was going to be the most high stakes sex of his life, bar none. He wanted it to be over with as quickly as possible, but he knew Angelo knew he wanted that. So it would be drawn out, of course.
“You just fucked Bobby, didn’t you?”
“Yes sir…” the sir came out of nowhere. Mark wished it hadn’t. Angelo’s dark eyes were raking over his face, inspecting his soul with an unsettling thoroughness.
“Did he give you what you wanted, Mark? Did he love you?”
How the hell did Angelo know what Mark wanted?
“No. He hates me.”
“We are not men bound by love,” Angelo explained. “We are men of the shadows. You want something Bobby can never give. Your tenderness makes you weak in our presence. You fuck my boy, but he is the one who claims you, because it is your soul that yearns to touch his. He can’t be taken that way.”
“And you?”
“I know what love is for itself,” Angelo said, cryptically. “I know that love is everywhere. I imagine you think that sounds particularly soft for me?”
“Well, yes.”
“That’s because you don’t really understand it. Truly, I mean everywhere,” Angelo repeated with emphasis. “There is love in pain, death, torture. You want so badly to save my boy, but he is beyond redemption, as am I - and as you soon will be.”
“Not me,” Mark insisted as Angelo reached out and wrapped his hand around Mark’s cock, his touch assured.
“Yes. You. You’re one of us.”
“No.”
Angelo smiled. “You lie to yourself. That will be your downfall. I want to fuck you face down on the floor. Lay down.” He released Mark’s cock and looked at the floor between his feet, adding emphasis with one long finger pointed to the carpet.
The sudden change of pace was jarring, but Mark did as he was told and sank toward the floor. His naked skin and cock felt strange against the carpeting. It was a very humbling position, there was no doubting that. He struggled to control his emotions as he prostrated himself before Angelo, knowing that this was all foreplay to the main event. From his position, Mark could only see Angelo’s shoes, expensive Sicilian leather.
“This isn’t just sex, Mark,” Angelo purred from above. "This is a promise that you will remain loyal to us when we set you free. You understand?”
“Yes,” Mark gritted out. It wasn’t a lie. He understood. That didn’t mean he agreed.
“You’ll be tempted to forget this when you leave, so I’m going to make it as memorable as possible,” Angelo said. “Stay there.”
He walked away, leaving Mark face down on the floor, lying there like a piece of debris. As the seconds ticked by Mark seriously considered getting up. He stayed though, because what was the point in getting up when he’d only have to get back down again.
Nose to the carpet, he contemplated what his life had become. He fucked a man that hated him, and he waited to be fucked by a man he had contempt for. He had to get out of here, before he was ruined entirely, just as Angelo predicted.
“Good boy.” Angelo’s rumble of praise as he returned made an unexpected glow of pleasure run through Mark’s body. He tried to will himself not to feel pleased, but failed in the attempt.
Something leathery dangled in front of his eyes. Something thick and snake-like, leathery and tapered to a vicious point. A whip. Oh shit. Angelo Vitali had a fucking whip.
“Whoa… OW!”
The tail of the whip cracked across his bare back, a tongue of fire across his skin. It was followed by another crack and then another, each landing without explanation or mercy. Angelo worked that whip over Mark’s upper back and found his ass too, lash after wicked lash accompanied by sounds like gun shots. He’d met Angelo to the sound of gunfire. How appropriate that their association should end this way too.
“There can be no pleasure without pain, Mark. There is no love where there is no hate. Purity is death.”
Angelo intoned the dark invocation between cracks which lit Mark’s skin and his soul at the same time, building sensation across and through his prone body. It hurt, but he was hard, and the more it hurt, the more his lust rose.
“Fuck me!” Mark grunted as the lash found his ass. It was the only thing he could think of to say. The only thing that had any chance of ending the pain.”
“You want me to fuck you?” Angelo sounded almost mocking.
“Yes!”
“Do you know why?”
“Because I want to be free!”
“No.” The whip cracked again, and the lash found Mark’s other cheek. “You want me to take you because you’re not really one of the good ones, Agent Locke. You’re every bit as depraved as we are. You just want to think of yourself as a hero, but there are many ways to be heroic, and most of them don’t involve a badge and blind allegiance to a state which doesn’t know or care you’re alive. You want me to take you because I know you, Mark. In our time together I’ve come closer to who you are at your core than anyone ever has. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes,” Mark admitted with a sob. It was true. Fuck. He hated it, but this was the most passion and intensity he’d ever experienced in his life. He’d be abandoning it when he left, but he absolutely had to leave, for his sanity and for the greater good.
Angelo dropped to his knees and put his fingers to Mark’s ass. They were already lubricated and ready to start pressing into his reluctant asshole. As much as Mark might have said he wanted it, his ass was not accustomed to being an entry point for anything other than smooth toys and Mark hissed as three of Mark’s thick fingers pushed inside him, disregarding the barrier of his sphincter just like Angelo disregarded all barriers. He took what he wanted. Simple as that.
Angelo started to finger Mark, speaking in that low seductive tone, his voice taking Mark apart bit by bit.
“Truth is everything, Mark. I don’t lie to myself the way you lie to yourself. That’s why I’ll always win, because you’re trapped in a delusion of what you imagine yourself to be instead of reveling in what you truly are.”
The probing fingers twisted inside him, making his ring relax, preparing him for what was to come. Somewhere in the midst of the mind-fuck, Mark found himself relaxing into the inevitability of it all. His back was stinging, his ass was sore, he was hot and needy and none of it mattered because this was all about and for Angelo.
The fingers slid away and then Angelo was behind him. Days of captivity had culminated in this moment, a thick cock pressing at the entrance of his body, putting inexorable pressure on his untrained sphincter.
“Ask me to take you, Mark.”
Mark groaned. “Please… fuck… me.”
At his bidding, Angelo’s thick cock slid slowly into his ass. Mark felt his lower belly clench, his body rebelling against the intrusion, but it was too late. Angelo was already head deep inside him, that thick cock dominating the flesh around it.
“Good boy,” Angelo purred. “What a very, very good boy.”
He urged his dick deeper, spreading Mark’s tight ring.
This was wrong. This was wrong but he had to do it, and the craving deep inside him made it right as he was slowly infiltrated by Angelo’s thick member, their bodies joining and becoming one. He had not known how hot flesh felt inside, how truly alive another man was when he was deep within. After a few moments, Mark truly did not know where he ended and where Angelo began. It was all pressure and force, the squeezing of his sphincter, the slow slide of the lubricated rod deep inside him, finding the pleasure gland that nothing else would.
“Fuck!” He cried out as Angelo’s dick hit his prostate, a bolt of pleasure racing through his body.
Angelo wrapped his arm around Mark’s neck, nearly choking him as he started to thrust with hard, possessive strokes that demanded everything from him.
“You’re mine. I own you,” Angelo hissed in Mark’s ear, short, brutal, stabbing statements reinforcing everything that had taken place between them.
Mark felt Angelo’s ownership like a force of nature. He sensed everything he’d thought he knew about himself being ripped away beneath Angelo’s desire with rough thrusts which took him to the brink of insanity, making his cock so hard it hurt as it rubbed against the carpet over and over again in time
to Angelo’s demanding strokes.
He was going to cum.
He fought against the climax that could not be denied, knowing that would be the end of everything. Angelo had asked for just this one time, and now Mark knew what it was to be fucked by a man who knew how to fuck a man entirely, from his head, to his toes, to his soul. Every thrust seemed to go to the very core of him, hot flesh pleasuring his rag doll body as he flopped beneath Angelo and allowed the man what he had always wanted: total control.
“Cum,” Angelo demanded, grabbing the back of Mark’s hair and pushing him hard against the carpet, the side of his face pinned as his ass waved in the air, welts stinging with every slap of Angelo’s hard hips and abdomen. “Cum for me, boy. Show me you’re mine.”
He began to pound even more roughly and without any semblance of care, fucking Mark ragged, branding his ass from the inside out. Mark’s orgasm was forced from him, banged into the carpet, ejaculate smearing Mark’s lower body as Angelo matched him, shooting thick loads of cum deep inside Mark’s ass. There was no choice but to take them deep inside his well fucked rectum, Angelo’s seed marking him forever.
Then there was silence.
Deep panting breaths.
A moment that was almost sacred.
And then it was gone.
“Good boy,” Angelo said, pulling his softening cock from Mark’s ass. “I’ll have a car prepared to take you wherever you’d like to go.”
Only partly conscious on the floor, Mark barely believed him. “Really?”
“I keep my word,” Angelo said, slapping Mark’s ass. “Sit up. I need to tell you something. Something you have to understand.”
Mark raised himself from the floor and turned to look at Angelo who was kneeling behind him, smiling beatifically. What was it that had to be said now that hadn’t been said before? Angelo had won, Mark had lost, he was now free to limp back to the bureau as a broken traitor. What more was there?
“You’re mine,” Angelo purred, his dark gaze holding triumphant emotion. “And if you betray me, you will experience pain as you have never known.”
