22. Hollis
T his boy likes playing with fire . It’s the only thing I can think as I trace along Emilio’s throat with my knife. He doesn’t even hint at going for his, though we both know he’s better trained than I am.
No, he doesn’t want to defend himself from me… He wants whatever I can give him, even if it means he gets a little roughed up.
Flicking my wrist, I let the tip of the blade penetrate his flesh, drawing blood. His emerald eyes darken, the shade a close match to Roman’s own green. Keegan moves, like he’s going to try to stop me, and I meet his steely gaze. His lips press into a line of displeasure, and I decide he’s not a threat.
There are enough eyes on the security cameras, and Elias is right outside the room, so should he decide that he’s going to make himself a nuisance, the guards will take care of it. Though, I have a feeling Emilio wouldn’t take it well should his man decide to interrupt.
Not that there’s anything to interrupt—not yet. The question is: Do I want there to be?
Simple answer: Yes, I want to put this boy on his knees and make him feel everything I have to offer. He only thinks he wants me to put him in his place… He has no idea what he’s asking for. Or does he?
Il Padrone fell for him for a reason; he’s not just a pretty face. That doesn’t mean he knows exactly what he’s getting himself into, though. Unless Roman decided to share how he gets used, and I wouldn’t put it past our Giocattolo to share details. He earns his bruises, and isn’t ashamed of them, so I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he overshares with his friend.
I should probably feel upset about that, but it’s amusing. Especially if that means Emilio thinks I’m the best person to give him what he needs. Which, I am. Either me or Tennant are the only ones capable of giving this volatile boy what he needs—possibly Jude, too, but I already know his answer, and like hell I’m going to allow Tennant to touch Emilio. At least, not unless I touch him first…
“Voglio vederti rovinato,” I whisper, dragging my knife down his throat, leaving a trail of blood in its wake.
Emilio shudders, his breath catching in his throat as I pull my knife from his skin, but don’t put it away.
“Do you think you’ve earned my cock, Cucciolo?”
Fire still dances in his eyes, not an ounce of his fury banked yet. Hmm. It seems I need to push him more.
I hum. “I bet I can make pretty sounds fall from your lips…” I tease one of his nipples through his shirt with my knife, drawing a breathless moan from his throat. “Strip, Cucciolo,” I order, stepping back.
Emilio is quick to do as he’s told, toeing out of his shoes and shucking his clothes off. He leaves them in a pile and I point my knife at them, forcing him to take a deep breath as he silently huffs but folds the clothing neatly. Much better.
We might be doing this because he asked, but we're doing it my way, and if he doesn’t like it…well, he knows where the door is. “I want you kneeling on the floor, you can grip the cushions if you need to.”
I’d prefer to not kneel for this, but if I get blood on the couch, the maids would kill me. I don’t want to change location, though. Doing this in an office wouldn’t be as comfortable, and I won’t bring him upstairs to our bedroom. As reluctant as I am to bloody the couch, I don’t want to do the same to a random bed either.
Kicking Emilio’s legs apart, so I can kneel between them, I trace the spine of my knife across his shoulders, down his neck and back, to his pretty ass. Goosebumps erupt across his skin, and I like knowing I have such an effect on him.
I’m sure his Master has many, many unique and creative ways to hurt him, but that’s more Tennant’s scope of expertise than mine. If we had time, I’d put him in one of the rooms Ten and I have built over the years for our kidnapping games. A little mindfucking would do this boy good, but as it is, I have limited resources.
Flipping the knife in my hand, I run the edge up and down his back and sides, leaving scratches on his flesh, but not breaking the skin—until I do. Seeing the blood run from Emilio’s shoulder down his back has my cock throbbing in my pants.
“I want to hear you, Cucciolo. How can I know you’re getting what you need if you’re as silent as a mouse?” Leaning in, I lick up the blood, enjoying the tangy copper taste on my tongue.
Emilio moans and his hands tighten on the cushions. “Better,” I muse. “But not quite good enough. If you want this…show me.”
Moving away a little to make more room, I adjust the grip on my knife, raise it up at the perfect angle, and slash it across his skin, watching as his pretty flesh breaks open and blood flows across his lower back.
He cries out, his head falling forward, and I use my free hand to play in his blood, rubbing it into his skin and down to his hole.
“That’s it,” I encourage. “I want you to hear how much you want it. Be a good puppy and beg .” I slice into the curve of his ass, the meaty flesh cutting open beautifully. He’ll need stitches, but it’s nothing Doc hasn’t seen before with the way Carter and Cristian play.
Setting the knife aside, I squeeze his ass, letting the blood run over my fingers as I use it to lube up his hole. The slick dries quickly, and is usually too sticky for my taste, but for putting Emilio in his place, it’s perfect.
Using two fingers, I stretch him quickly, not all that worried about his comfort, but not wanting to damage him either. I lean over him and whisper into his ear. “Do you want my cock, Cucciolo?”
He shudders, hesitating before finally nodding.
“I can’t hear you.”
“Yes!” he says firmly.
“You don’t deserve it,” I respond with a chuckle. At his whine, proving his nickname all over again, I whisper in his ear once more, “But you need it. I know that. You can’t get this from anyone else until your Master gets home. Until then, I’ll give you it. On my terms.”
Standing, I undo my belt before pulling it all the way off and placing it in easy reach. Emilio tries to move, looking over his shoulder at me. I kick him, nudging one of his thighs further out. “I didn’t say you could move… I was going to let you come, but if you can’t even stay still for more than a minute…”
“Please…”
I look over my shoulder at Keegan, who is still frozen in place, watching the scene unfold in front of him with grim intent, making sure every move I make won’t permanently damage his precious stand-in Boss. I grin at him before turning back to my cucciolo.
And what a beautiful puppy he is, too. His smooth skin is ruined by the rivulets of red. If I had more time and patience, I’d string him up somewhere and work him over, making sure every inch of his skin is marked by me in some way. Alas, we don’t have that kind of time. As I told Emilio, Roman and the others are on their way.
For a brief moment, I wonder what my lovers will think of this scene, except I frankly don’t care. I’m sure both Roman and Jude will have questions, but I trust in our relationship enough to know they won’t fault me for taking this from the boy in front of me, especially not when it was given up so freely. Tennant, well, he’ll just be sad he missed it, and will probably bring the camera feed up to watch—most likely while fucking one of our boys.
Kicking off my shoes, I remove my pants and gather up more of Emilio’s blood, using it to stroke my cock. It’s not enough, so I spit in my palm, letting out a groan as I watch the body spread out before me shudder in pleasure.
I didn’t plan on fucking him, but how can I pass up such a tempting offer? Especially since I don’t fully believe his pathetic apology from earlier. I know how the Martellis are made—Allesandro trains them using sex—and while it’s not my preferred method, I’m only human. Passing up a willing body isn’t hard, but why should I?
Kneeling behind Emilio once more, I press my cock against his hole. He resists, the tight friction almost too much, but with some more spit and blood, we make it work. He lets out a sharp cry as I enter him, his head thrown back, mouth open and eyes closed. Gripping his light hair in one hand, I use it to anchor him in place as I slowly enter him, sliding in and out a few times to loosen him up.
It’s rough, and not how I usually like to fuck, but it’s also a very Tennant-type move, and I like that—channeling my lover so I can put this boy, who’s not mine, in his place.
“This is where you belong,” I tell him, thrusting all the way inside. “You might be a Boss, but you’re also a cockslut, aren’t you?”
He refuses to respond, and I press against him harder. “Fuck!”
“You may not want to answer me, but you are. I don’t know how your Master lets you do anything else, as you make such a wonderful cocksleeve.”
Pulling back, I grip his hips tightly. My movements have made the wounds on his ass and lower back bleed again, but I use that as extra lube and begin fucking him in earnest, pushing him against the couch and listening to his wonderful cries as I fuck into him.
It’s a punishing fuck, there's no two ways about it. I barely give him time to breathe as I shove in and out of him, feeling his tight ass cling to me. Digging my nails into his skin, I hope I leave marks that will sting with every movement—as if the cuts I’ve littered his back with aren’t enough. But it’s not… Not when this boy has played a dangerous game for days now, putting not only his life but those of his Family’s on the line.
“You want to play with fire, Emilio?” I ask, leaning over him, releasing one of his hips to plant my hand on the couch—so much for not bloodying up the furniture. “I will give you what you need until your Master is found. There aren’t any Martellis to save you from that. None of them are capable of ruining you so thoroughly. And you won’t get any of the Amatos, unless I allow it. But in order for me to do that…” I pull back, resting my cock at his entrance for a long moment before plunging in again. I punctuate every thrust with words. “You. Will. Learn. Your. Place.”
Grinding into him, I fuck him hard and deep, skating across his prostate and hearing his cries turn to moans of pleasure. Holding still, I take a second to catch my breath before reaching down for my belt. Wrapping it around his neck, I thread the buckle through and make sure it’s flush against the skin at the back of his neck.
Makeshift noose in hand, I tighten it until there’s just enough space for him to suck in air. A gasp that’s not mine or Emilio’s has me looking over my shoulder. In the doorway stands Tennant, Roman, Jude, and Benjamin. The latter looks to be a mixture of horrified and concerned, but I don’t pay him much mind. My worry is on Roman, who looks shocked at what he walked in on, even as he holds Jude around the waist. I can’t read the expression on Jude’s face, but I know him well enough by now to guess that he is…not pleased by what’s occurring. Still, I’m not worried, he knows better than to question me. Tennant looks bored as he leans against the entryway. I know he’s not, but he’ll never let people outside our dynamic see what lies underneath his unaffected facade.
Turning back to Emilio, I tell him, “We have an audience. Why don’t we put on a good show for them?”
I begin fucking him again, tightening the belt and cutting off his air supply. I’m usually on the other side of such play, but Tennant has taught me a lot over the years. I’m not worried about harming him, even if I can hear some type of commotion behind me—I’m assuming one of the Martellis is objecting to such play.
I fuck into him, short and brutal thrusts that push him into the couch. The only thing holding him up now is the belt-leash. Relaxing my hold on the leather, I let him suck in some much-needed air as I swivel my hips and find the perfect angle to brush against his prostate. He pulls at the couch cushions, and I moan as his ass tightens.
Pulling away until I’m almost all the way out of him, I relish in his whine of displeasure. “You’re not coming today,” I tell him, tightening the belt once more. “You need to learn to not be a disrespectful shit.”
With that, I cut off his air supply and fuck him until I’m on the brink of orgasm. It doesn’t take long, just knowing I’m being watched by so many people has my balls tightening and my spine tingling with pleasure. I’m not an exhibitionist, but I like them knowing I can and will put someone in their place if they deserve it.
A few more thrusts before I pull out, release the belt completely after loosening it, and grip my cock, fisting it hard and fast until I come all over Emilio’s bloodied ass, leaving my final mark.
I take a moment to catch my breath before I remove the belt from around his throat, running my fingers along his skin in a quick check to make sure I didn’t damage him. Over my shoulder I say, “Call Doc.”
“Already did, Tesoro; he should be here any second.”
With a nod of acknowledgement to Tennant, I help Emilio stretch out on the floor. It's not the most comfortable place, but even though there’s some blood on the couch already, I’d rather not get glared at while walking through the halls by the maids because I made more of a mess than they would have preferred.
“Are you okay, Cucciolo?”
Emilio sucks in a breath but nods, even as his glassy eyes open and close slowly. “Just…fine…” he says in a wrecked, fucked out voice.
Leaning down, I kiss the corner of his mouth. “Good. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”
He hums and closes his eyes, though I can tell by his ragged breathing that he’s not asleep yet.
Looking away from my charge for a moment, I make sure I have the attention of all three of my lovers and sign, “We’ll talk later.”
They all nod, different expressions on their faces, but nothing that makes me think I fucked things up irreparably with them. And that’s all that matters. Any issues we have can be fixed with time, conversation, and possibly a few orgasms. If I ever thought otherwise, I never would have fucked my cucciolo.