Santori Reborn (The Santori Trilogy Book 2)

by Maris Black

  “Theo said you would break my heart. He said he sees a side of you that I don’t.”

  “What?” he asked incredulously.

  “It’s true,” I pressed on, letting the doubts run free now that the door had been cracked open. “I don’t know what you do when you’re not with me. You keep me locked away here, and you come and go as you please. You have an entire life that doesn’t include me. For all I know, you’re out fucking other guys. You could have an entire stable of lovers, and I would never even have a clue. Hell, you could have a dozen apartments, with a poor clueless boy like me in each one just waiting like a desperate little puppy for his master to come home and pet him.”

  Oh, God. What was I saying? Were these really the thoughts that were in my mind?

  Apparently so, because here they were spilling out all over Gio like some vile sludge of jealousy.

  Gio literally growled, his expression murderous. “Theo needs to keep his fucking mouth shut before he finds himself in the unemployment line.”

  “Don’t fire him because of me,” I cried in alarm. “He didn’t say all that stuff about other guys. All he said was that you would break my heart and that I didn’t know the side of you that he sees. He just thought he was being realistic.”

  “Realistic.” He huffed. “The reality is that Theo only sees what I want him to see. He works for me, Peter. He’s nothing to me but a tool to use, but you... You’re everything to me.”

  He climbed onto the bed between my legs, spreading my thighs wide and pushing them up toward my chest. He’d gotten the tube of lubrication while I’d been dazed and thoughtful, and now he slathered it onto my hole without preamble, pushing it into me with sure fingers.

  I clenched around the sudden intrusion, stinging from the stretch but aching for more.

  “Do you feel my love?” he asked. “Do you believe what I tell you is real? That I will love and care for you as long as there is breath in my body?”

  I nodded, tears stinging my eyes. Because even though I could be temporarily swayed by paranoia, my heart knew the truth. I felt guilty for even voicing the doubts that Theo had tried to put in my head. He just didn’t understand—couldn’t possibly understand—because he had never felt anything like what Gio and I had. As unworldly and egocentric as I was, I could almost believe that no one had.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, consumed by shame. “I never should have listened to Theo. Never should have doubted you.”

  “Shhh…” Gio bent over me and ran a hand through my hair. “There’s no need to apologize. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “But I have.” I turned my face away from him, the tears coursing freely now. “You give me everything in the world, Gio. You’ve never once said a harsh word to me, you’ve gone out of your way to make sure I know I’m wanted and loved, and this is how I repay you? With doubt and accusations of cheating on me?” I squeezed my eyes shut and sobbed. “I don’t deserve you.”

  Gio rolled off of me and sat down on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his dark hair. “Where is this coming from? One minute we’re playing Peter Gets Fucked by a Gangster, and the next you’re crying and saying you don’t deserve me.”

  I recognized his attempt at humor to lighten the mood, but it didn’t work. I felt miserable. I was also horny as hell, but miserable just the same. I didn’t know how to make things right—how to get rid of the guilt that was choking me. I knew guilt. It had been my near-constant companion for as long as I could remember, and in my experience, there was only one way to eradicate it.

  My father’s words echoed in my mind. An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth. Yet another snippet of a Bible verse, lopped out of the whole and perverted to suit his needs. But it rang true for me because it’s how I was raised.

  I hated myself for being that way. For needing something I shouldn’t need. Just another cause for guilt.

  “What can I do to prove it to you?” Gio asked at last. “What do you need that I haven’t been giving you?”

  I couldn’t possibly answer that question. Not with words. Instead, I crawled off of the bed and bent over the side of it, presenting my bare ass like I had done countless times in the past. Only this time there was no fear. No anger. No desperation coiled in the pit of my belly.

  I rested my cheek on the bed, face turned toward Gio, and held his gaze. I was making an offering. A way to even the score and set things right again.

  I saw the moment realization hit him. His face went dark and stormy, eyebrows crashing down and mouth flattening into a grim line. He glanced down at my ass, then back up to my eyes, and shook his head. “You can’t ask me to do that, Peter. I would give you anything you asked for, but the thought of hurting you makes me sick to my stomach.”

  At that point, all of my reasoning was out the window, and I wasn’t even sure why I was pushing. It was sick, wasn’t it? But I was single-minded with the unholy need, and now that it had been unleashed, and there was no calling it back.

  “It won’t hurt if you do it,” I argued. But when there was no change on his face to indicate I was swaying him, I decided to play dirty. I bit my lip and wiggled my ass. “Come on, daddy. I’ve been a really bad boy.”

  “Oh, God.” Gio closed his eyes and sucked a noisy breath in through his nose before letting it out through his mouth. “What if you hate me for it?” he asked, his voice a quiet plea.

  “I could never hate you. I just need you to punish the bad thoughts out of my head, Gio. If I’m wrong, then make me believe.”

  And with that statement, I’d finally hit on the heart of my need. It wasn’t only about punishment; it was also about proof. If my doubts were unfounded, then I ought to feel shame, and I deserved to be punished. But Gio wasn’t the type of man who would punish me if I was right. If I was wrong, he would beat my ass if that’s what it took to prove himself to me. And if he refused… Well, then I would know.

  Gio glanced at my ass, then back at my face, and I could see his resolve cracking. Even more telling was the fact that his dick was still hard.

  Emboldened by that little triumph, I pushed my ass back and begged. “Please, daddy. Show me how wrong I am.”

  Gio sprang up from the bed, apparently sensing what was at stake in our little game. All apprehension faded from his expression, and he was my Gio again. Self-assured and determined to set me straight.

  He flattened himself over my back and ground his erection against the crack of my ass as he growled against my ear. “If I hurt you, you tell me to stop, goddammit. Do you understand?”

  I nodded, swallowing a lump of fear and anticipation.

  He pushed up off of me and rubbed his palm over one ass cheek. A gentle warning. I tensed and held my breath, waiting.

  The first blow was tentative as if he was testing his strength.

  “Mmm…harder,” I breathed, pushing back for more.

  He rubbed the other cheek before slapping it with more force than he had the first.

  I gasped. “Yeah. More.”

  He switched to the other cheek, first rubbing then slapping, putting more of his body into it this time. The sting was divine, and I grunted in response.

  The next blow was hard, as was the one that followed. I felt the shock reverberate through my balls and through my dick, and I scrubbed my straining erection along the bedspread for friction. A couple more hard strikes and I was moaning like an animal in heat.

  Gio rubbed his palm over the tender flesh, reawakening the sting, and then he pushed his cock along the channel of my ass. “Is that good, baby?”

  I nodded with a helpless squeak.

  And then he struck me again, four blows in quick succession. And as I writhed in sweet agony on the bed, he flattened his body over mine and said through clenched teeth, “Don’t you ever fucking doubt my devotion again. Is that understood?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  He pushed roughly against me, the head of his cock nudging my hole. “Yes, what?”

 
; “Y—yes, daddy,” I stammered, mindless and aching.

  “That’s right,” he said, pushing up off of me once more and raining down a series of hard blows that sent me into a frenzy. I was mewling now, and my dick was weeping, soaking the covers beneath in precum.

  And then Gio spread my aching cheeks and slammed his cock into my already-lubed ass with such force I cried out. “Oh, God yes, Gio. Oh… fuck.”

  I had never been so turned on in my life. A shudder rippled through my body as he pulled almost completely out of me and pushed back in, balls slapping against mine and sending a jolt of pure pleasure into my groin.

  Gio pulled out again and ran his palm over my abused flesh. “Your ass is on fire, baby.” He slapped it again before slamming his dick back into me.

  “Ohhh…” I moaned, my voice guttering into a lower register as the pain sharp pain radiated outward and dissipated into a rhythmic throbbing.

  “What have you done to me?” Gio panted. “I never wanted to hurt you, but seeing you this way… so needy and… God, I’m so hard, baby. So close. I need to fill you up.”

  He dropped over me one last time, bracing with his forearms on either side of me, and I knew this was it. His sweat slicked my back, the scrub of his dampened chest hair yet one more facet of the delicious torture of my senses. Every nerve ending in my being was awake now, and Gio was master of them all.

  His dick pulsed hard within the channel of my ass, a signal of his impending release, and then he was clinging to me. Lips pressed against the back of my head, shouting a string of barely coherent things. Dirty things. Loving things. And he unloaded all of his passion inside of me in wave after hot wave.

  I writhed beneath him, pressed into the bed with by the weight of him, as every bit of tangled up lust and pain and humiliation spilled out of my untouched dick and onto the covers. My ass spasmed and quaked around him, muscles intent on wringing out every last drop.

  And then we were still, both panting heavily into the silent room.

  After a time, when his dick had softened and left me bereft, Gio rolled off of me and onto his side. He carded his fingers through my damp hair and sighed. Then his hand dropped to my sore ass, palm skating gently over the flesh.

  I winced, and Gio’s hand stilled.

  “I don’t want to be a monster,” he said, voice broken.

  I thought of my father. Of the cruelty in his eyes and the unbearable crack of his belt against my ass. Of the hateful words and twisted aberrations of Bible verses that spewed from his liquor-scented lips. Was he a monster? I thought perhaps he was, but he never would have imagined himself one. He was also nothing like Gio, who even after all of the kindness he had bestowed upon me, and even knowing I wanted his discipline, still questioned himself.

  “What makes a man a monster?” I asked, staring into his haunted eyes.

  He rolled onto his back and lay in silence for long moments, his chest rising and falling steadily as he thought. Just when I suspected he would never answer my question, he turned back onto his side and found my gaze again.

  “I believe a man becomes a monster when he loses the ability to feel compassion for others. When he ceases to feel the pain of those he hurts, he’s no better than an animal. Compassion is the thing that separates monsters from men. And you, sweet pea, are my compassion.” He dropped a kiss onto my hair and sighed. “You are my love.”

  CHAPTER 17

  PETER

  I hadn’t meant to fall asleep. I’d planned on watching TV and maybe writing a little bit in my journal. I needed something to occupy my mind while Gio was gone on a rare overnight business trip. I wasn’t used to being alone, and the apartment felt cavernous with just little old me in it.

  It was disconcerting to realize just how dependent I had become on Gio’s presence. When I lived with my father, I’d relished every moment I had to myself and had rejoiced every time I came home to an empty apartment. When he was gone overnight, I’d entertained dark fantasies of what may have kept him away and secretly hoped he would never return.

  It was different with Gio. I wanted him with me every second of every day, so when he told me he’d be gone overnight, I was filled with dread. As soon as the door had closed behind him, I’d clicked on the TV and sat down on the sofa, staring blindly at the screen. Then I’d stretched out with a pillow beneath my head, feet propped up on the back cushions, and stared at the ceiling, willing the minutes to fly by.

  Apparently, I had passed out within minutes because when a knock at the door startled me awake, I checked my watch. Less than a half hour since Gio had gone.

  The knock scared me because I couldn’t figure out who would be visiting while Gio wasn’t home. Theo never visited when I was alone, and I suspected it was to avoid incurring Gio’s wrath. My man was nothing if not territorial where I was concerned, and Theo had a knack for getting his hackles up. And besides, Theo was going with him out of town. That made me really jealous, but I had been the one to begging Gio to hire him, so I had no right to complain.

  Whoever was on the other side of the door knocked again, louder this time. I swung my legs down from the back of the couch and sat up, staring nervously at the door.

  “Hey kid, I know you’re in there.” It was Z’s voice, and that was even worse than not knowing who was out there. “Gio sent me to tell you something. Open up. It’s important.”

  Suddenly worried about Gio’s safety, I hurried to unlock the door, but what I discovered on the other side was instant validation that Z had just been lying to get me to let my guard down. My father stood beside him, dressed in his usual plaid blazer, buttoned up.

  Somehow he looked even shabbier than I had remembered. Maybe the time away from him had given me a new perspective, or maybe he was taking even worse care of himself since I had left home. Whatever the reason, the old man looked like shit.

  Before I could gather the words to turn them away, Z pushed the door open and sauntered into the room, my father close on his heels.

  “I—I don’t think you guys should be here right now. Gio isn’t here, and I don’t think he would like me having company.” In fact, I knew he wouldn’t like it, so why was I being delicate?

  “Company?” my dad asked incredulously. “Is that what I am now? Last I checked, I was your goddamn father.”

  Z dropped down onto the sofa and turned to watch the drama unfold, one arm stretched along the back of the cushions.

  “You guys need to leave and come back when Gio is here. He’s not going to be happy about this.”

  “I don’t give a damn,” my dad yelled. “I have a right to visit my own damn son. This is ridiculous. When are you coming home? It’s been months.”

  I toed the floor, wondering what I could say to get them to leave. “I live here now. Didn’t Gio tell you I was staying with him?”

  “Doesn’t matter what he told me. He’s not the boss of you. I am.”

  I backed up a couple of steps, putting distance between myself and the man who had bullied and tormented me for years. Even now, I could feel the sting of his belt across my ass.

  “Why are you here?” Stupid question. I knew very well why he was here.

  “I’m here to take you home. Now get your suitcases packed and let’s go.”

  Instinctively, I looked to Z for backup, as if he hadn’t been the one to bring my father here in the first place. The asshole just sat quietly on the sofa with that maddening grin still in place. At the moment I wasn’t sure who I hated worse, him or my dad. But I was sure of one thing. I needed to get both of them out of the apartment before things escalated.

  With no one to back me up, I pulled myself up straighter and gave my dad what I hoped was a look of fierce determination. “I’m not going anywhere with you. This is my home, and you need to leave now.”

  He scoffed. “This isn’t your home. It belongs to your boss, and you’re just a charity case to him. I know what you told him to make him feel sorry for you. Spreading lies about me.”


  “I haven’t lied about anything,” I said, cursing the nerves that always reared up inside me when I talked back to my father.

  “He came to my fucking house the other day and threatened me, you little shit. All because of the lies you told him. But charity only goes so far. One of these days, he’ll get bored of being your knight in shining armor, and then you’ll be out on your ass. What will you do then? You think I’m gonna help you after you disobeyed me?”

  “I don’t need your help. I don’t need you for anything.” God, it felt good saying those words to him and knowing for the first time in my life that they were true. Even if Gio kicked me out tomorrow, going back home was not an option. Even the word home didn’t fit anymore. The crappy little apartment was now just a place I used to live, and this man was just someone who used to make my life a living hell.

  He growled, fingers twitching at his sides. If we had been alone, he would have been unbuckling his belt already.

  “You need to come back home where you belong before I lose my patience. You get what I’m saying? Write Mr. Rivera a note and tell him you realized you wanted to go home. Tell him you made up all that stuff about me… abusing you.” He grimaced in disgust, as if he truly believed it was all a lie. I wondered if he was that delusional, or if he was just putting on a show because we had an audience.

  “Better listen to your father,” Z said. The bored look on his face said he didn’t have any real concern for my father or for our relationship. I doubted Z had ever been truly concerned about anything but himself.

  I dug my toes into the rug I had gotten accustomed to feeling beneath my feet. My rug. My home. “I said I’m not going anywhere. Now get out.”

  The old man lunged at me and wrapped his fingers tightly around my upper arm, squeezing so hard I knew there would be bruises there. If I had seen it coming, I might have been able to get out of the way. But I had gotten too comfortable, too used to having Gio standing between me and the world. I’d forgotten what it felt like to have to be wary all the time, and it had made me lax.