Chapter 9
Carmine
“Are you sobered up yet?” Soren asks me.
I’m sitting on a dingy couch in an old warehouse that my family uses to store our illicit stock. Large wooden crates full of weapons, drugs, and the occasional smuggled art piece.
“You didn’t need to come with me,” I grumble.
Soren steps closer to me and hands me the second cup of coffee he’s given me tonight. A pot of it sits on a small table nearby. I take the cup and down it as fast as possible, it burns down my throat. Unlike alcohol, it’s because it’s still hot.
“The fuck I didn’t,” he says while waving a hand. “How do I know you wouldn’t just go off and get yourself in even more trouble.”
I stare at him, ignoring the aching of my throat. “You threatened to kill me; I think I’m in more trouble here.”
He scoffs. “Can you be serious for one fuckin’ moment.” He grabs the mug from me and walks over, slamming it down on the table.
I sigh and lean back on the couch. “I don’t understand why you even care,” I tell him. “I could’ve won in that fight, and you didn’t need to stop me from—”
“This isn’t about the fight. It’s not about tonight. This about your entire life,” Soren snaps. He slaps the mug off the table and it crashes to the floor, the handle breaking off.
I flinch ever so slightly, but I can’t take my eyes off him. He’s beyond anger. His eyes flare with a deep heat that makes my entire body just as warm.
It’s wrong, I know it. I should not feel so aroused by a man yelling at me. By this man in particular; but I am.
“You’re in over your head, Carmine.” Soren’s hands ball into fists.
I clench my teeth, ignoring the tightness of my throat and stinging of tears in my sore eyes. I’ve cried enough as it is tonight. I won’t let it happen again.
“You think I don’t know that?” I ask him. I slowly stand up from the couch. My legs feel slightly weak, my foot still hurts inside of my shoe and my head is aching from the hangover that’s already threatening me. “Do you really think I don’t know how bad I’m fucking everything up right now?”
He looks me up and down. “Sometimes I don’t know,” he replies. “You’re certainly acting like you don’t care.”
“Not caring and not knowing are two different things, Soren,” I remind him.
“I’m sick of everyone telling me how fucked up I am.
I know!” Now I’m waving my hands around, they swing down to my sides in fists.
“I’m an alcoholic asshole who can’t keep his family safe, who wants to drown in his own self-pity, and won’t take help from anyone.
I know that! I fucking know!” Tears are hot and heavy in my eyes, and it’s difficult to keep my voice even slightly composed. Emotions are thick in it.
Soren sighs. “Then take the help! I’ve been trying to help you for weeks. I told you to call me when you think you’re gonna go overboard, so what do you do? Go to the fuckin’ fight club and try to get yourself killed.”
“I don’t need your help! How many times do I have to say it, Soren,” I yell at him. “You keep telling me, I keep not listening. How stupid are you?”
Soren growls and lunges forward, grabbing me by the shirt. As he pulls me onto my toes, heels off the floor, my breath catches in my throat. His eyes are so hot that they may as well melt right through me.
“Take the damn help, you ignorant stubborn asshole.” Soren demands. “If you’re not gonna take care of yourself, let someone do it!”
Every muscle in my body clenches and my cock is suddenly hardening against my thigh.
“Make me,” I reply, my voice quieter, but firm.
“God, you’re so…” Soren huffs. His face grows closer to mine.
I can’t resist. I don’t want to. Not after everything I’ve been through lately.
“Take me,” I tell him.
He blinks at me. “What?”
“I need…” I swallow down the lump in my throat. Tears start to slowly drip over my waterline. “I need to feel something. Something else, something better.”
I can hardly find the words to explain what I need, but the light shifts in Soren’s eyes and I think he understands.
“Have you gotten…tested since that night at the club?” he asks in a quiet tone.
I nod slowly. “Yes. All clear.”
His mouth crushes mine. My eyes close instantly and I kiss him back furiously. It’s not a slow, soft first kiss. No, it’s hard and desperate. His tongue shoves into my mouth the second I part my lips.
Soren’s mouth tastes exactly like I’d imagine it. Cigarettes and spearmint. His spit combines with mine, tongue dancing with mine and overtaking my mouth.
I moan into the kiss, the sound muffled by our mouths.
Soren pushes me backwards, and I step back until I stumble onto my ass on the couch.
As his mouth leaves mine, I suck in a quick breath, then another.
Everything happens so fast. I feel his hands pull at my shirt, undoing the buttons, pulling it off of my arms, and I let him. I slide my hands up his torso underneath his t-shirt until I feel one of his nipples under my fingers. I pinch it, and the sound of him groaning makes my dick fully hard.
“Stop,” he moans and grabs my hands, pinning them above my head on the couch as he straddles my hips from above.
“Let me take care of you,” he demands, leaning his head down, mouth by my ear. “Let me be in control.”
I tremble and close my eyes again. “Please,” I tell him. “Whatever you want. I need it. Fuck, I need it so bad.” My breath catches in my throat every other word, and I hate the way I sound so vulnerable, but it also makes me even more aroused.
“You wanted a fight? I’ll give you better,” he bites my earlobe. “I’ll fuck you until you pass out.”
I grunt as he rolls his hips down against mine. I can feel his erection in his jeans against mine. A spark shoots from the base of my dick through my hips and thighs, to my asshole.
“Do it,” I order him. My voice thick with need.
Soren’s hand is suddenly on my throat, pressing down just enough to hold my head down but not stop my breathing. “You don’t tell me what to do,” he commands me. “I’m in charge.”
I shiver and it’s like I’m melting underneath him. Willing and ready for anything he wants. I need so badly to let go. Of everything.
“Y-You’re in charge,” I agree.
That seems to be all he needs to hear.
The next thing I know he’s pulling his jeans down and stroking his large cock just in front of my face.
“Get me ready to fuck you,” he orders, letting go of my throat and grabbing me by the hair.
I open my mouth and he shoves his length in. I start to suck him off while he thrusts into my mouth, licking all around him eagerly, greedily.
My eyes stay open and I watch him tilt his head back, groaning and grunting as he fucks my face.
“Mmmm,” I hum around his dick. I feel the veins in it pulse and precum drips down the back of my throat.
“Ahh fuck!” He growls and fucks my mouth faster, harder. My saliva drips down my chin, wet and messy.
Suddenly, Soren pulls out of my mouth and slides back.
“Lemme see your tight ass, baby,” he huffs, and I start to roll over but he stops me.
“No, I want you on your back, I wanna see your fuckin’ face.” He smacks a hand down on my chest to keep me on my back and tears my pants and boxer briefs off like his life depends on it. He puts his fingers in his mouth and sucks on them for a moment.
My hard-on springs free and I gasp as he reaches down and shoves his fingers between my cheeks.
He aggressively rubs at my taint and the tight ring of my hole a few times before pushing two of his fingers in one inch at a time.
“Got any lube here?” he asks breathlessly.
I’m almost too busy moaning and tilting my head back to answer. My ass tightens around his fingers and the second he reaches my prostate my cock drips with precum.
“N-No,” I say between a moan.
“Ahh, fuck, damn,” Soren huffs. “There’s gotta be something around here…”
He moves off of me for a moment, and I turn my head to watch him stomp around until he comes back to the couch with something small, yellow and blue in his hand.
Petroleum jelly. There’s always some of that around. We use it for everything.
My ass clenches just at the knowledge that Soren’s hard length is going to be in it in just mere moments.
I can’t remember if I’d gotten fucked during my drunken and drug-addled threesome at the club, but I’m pretty sure I didn’t. It’s been a while since I’ve taken it, but the way Soren lubes up his fingers and presses them back against my hole shows me he knows how to prepare me.
An embarrassingly desperate whimper leaves my throat as he pushes his fingers inside of me and stretches me with them. Thrusting his fingers in and out, pressing them against that sensitive spot inside of me with just the right amount of pressure.
“Ahh, fuck,” I gasp and tilt my head back against the couch, closing my eyes.
“Eyes open,” Soren orders me. “I want you to watch while I stuff you.”
I open my eyes despite how they try to stay closed and force myself to tilt my head up just a little off the couch so I can watch.
Watch as Soren slips his fingers out of me, and strokes his length with slick fingers.
He’s big. Bigger than I anticipated, and as he lines his tip up with my hole, I groan.
I start to tilt my head back reflexively, but I remember what he said.
He wants me to watch.
“You want me to fuck you, huh?” Soren asks, already slightly breathless.
I swallow the saliva that’s pooled in my mouth and nod my head.
“Uh-huh, use your fucking words,” he growls, the sound low and deep from his chest. His free hand spread my thighs open further, gripping at it tightly. I grunt as he pushes inside me ever so slightly.
“Yes,” I tell him. “I want you to f-fuck me.”
Soren smirks at me. “Yeah, baby?” he asks and leans down over me. His hard, throbbing member starts to sink into me inch by inch, stopping whenever I squeeze around him to give me a moment to relax.
I gasp and look down, watching as the base of his dick disappears into me, and I feel him so deep inside of me. Rubbing against that spot with the underside of his shaft.