Season of Sin
TW: BDSM, drugging, dub-con, false imprisonment, force feeding, forced marking, humiliation, kidnapping, MxM.
ALESSIO
Istay silent only because I know that right now, silence is what keeps me alive.
There he is, that bastard, Cesare Benavri. I swear, if he wasn’t as handsome as the devil himself, he would’ve rocked a nice, gaping bullet hole between his eyes years ago.
He strides into the penthouse like he owns the entire world, which in a sense, isn’t inaccurate. My eyes don’t leave him as Cesare sits on the couch across from the Christmas tree, gives it a quick onceover before his face twists in disgust and he looks away.
Huh, he’s not as smart and thorough as he likes to claim after all.
If he were, he’d notice the damn changes in his own castle of blood.
Cesare reaches to his right, fingers nearly touching the expensive-looking whiskey bottle, but then, his head snaps to the side and his eyes focus on the tree. Okay, scratch my assumption after all.
A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth as Cesare gets up from the couch and walks over to the tree. He reaches out, grabs my ankle and pulls me out from under the tree, then scans me from the top of my head to my feet and mutters, “Who would’ve thought I’d get a gift for Christmas.”
As his grip on my ankle tightens almost painfully, I try to speak, but my words come out as muffled sounds because of the gag in my mouth and as I try to move, the ribbon cuts into my skin.
I swear, this is a dangerous territory of mockery and humiliation. To be snatched off the street on the day I lose a bet to my twin sister, just to wake up tied and gagged under a Christmas tree of the man my family hates more than the cops, yeah, it’s a twisted, ugly joke from fate.
Cesare chuckles at my attempts to speak and move as his eyes focus on the gag, then take in the wrapping I’m presented in.
I can see that the asshole thinks it’s hilarious to see his enemy’s son, dressed like a girl and tied with a ribbon.
“Shh, there’s no need to talk, my little prince.
Don’t waste your strength and breath, I got you. ”
What the actual fuck is wrong with him? Since I can’t ask the question, I glare at him, channeling all my anger and disgust into the look I give him.
Cesare laughs and mutters something that sounds suspiciously like “adorable,” then reaches his free hand to tug on one of the ribbons tied around me, testing how tight it is.
“You know, I’ve never had a boy under my Christmas tree before.
Such a pretty little thing and they wrapped you up nicely too. ”
His words catch me off guard, my eyes widen against my will, but I quickly school my expression and keep glaring at him.
His eyes sparkle with amusement as Cesare leans in close, his breath hot against my ear as he whispers, “But I think I might like it.” His finger slips under the ribbon and tugs on it again, as if he needs to remind me I’m not in control here.
“A pretty little package just for me. Looks like all those years I wasted writing to Santa finally paid off, huh?”
My breath catches and I wish I could give him the verbal lashing of a lifetime, but Cesare’s phone rings and breaks the tense silence. He pulls away and raises one finger, acting like I could speak with this devilish thing shoved inside my mouth.
He clears his throat, grins and answers the call. Just because he’s a top-tier asshole, Cesare puts the call on speaker and keeps his eyes focused on me throughout it. “Your son? Yes, I have him.”
My father’s angry voice echoes in the large room, I can almost picture how red his face burns with rage while he rambles off demands for ransom.
“No,” Cesare cuts him off mid-sentence. “We’ll discuss terms after Christmas. I’d hate to ruin the holidays.”
I try to talk again, but the stupid gag won’t allow me to speak the words I want to. Still, I try.
Cesare’s head snaps in my direction and his eyes narrow once he realizes I’m attempting to speak and move.
As a response, he hangs up on my father and tosses the phone aside.
Slowly, he turns his body so he’s facing me and flashes me a cruel smile, “daddy dearest wants his little prince back. Too bad I don’t do ransoms, right?
But don’t worry, since you are a gift, I intend to appreciate you properly. ”
My eyes widen, I can already imagine the horrors he means when he says “appreciate”.
In the meantime, he only smirks and removes the gag from my mouth, just to cover it with his large palm.
My jaw is aching with pain, but the asshole clearly doesn’t care.
“I want you to understand something, my little prince,” he hisses and leans so close I can smell the whiskey and cigar smoke in his breath.
“I’m not an easy man to please, never have been.
But if I decide to keep the presents I’ve been given, I prefer ones that are worth keeping. ”
I try to scream against his hand, but he only pushes it down harder, not caring that he’s hurting me as Cesare leans dangerously close to my face and whispers, “Let’s make this Christmas memorable, shall we?
” His free hand slowly traces his fingertips over my throat just as I swallow, and he adds, “for me.”
My attempt to turn my head just to get his hand off my mouth doesn’t work since the asshole forces his hand down even harder. A little more pressure and he’ll cause some damage, but again, he doesn’t care.
Like the self-absorbed bastard Cesare is, he focuses on his wants, not what’s truly happening. He moves his hand from my throat and slowly unties one ribbon, muttering, “Such a pretty mouth you have, my little prince. It’s a shame I can’t let you use it to call for help. Or maybe…”
The sentence he doesn’t finish is louder than a million words he could’ve shouted at the top of his lungs. I’m not surprised to learn he’s planning something awful, but fuck, am I scared.
“Maybe I should find out how pretty that mouth looks wrapped around a candy cane, eh?” Cesare asks with a sinister grin across his lips.
My eyes widen again and my nostrils flare in anger. “How dare you?” I snarl against his hand, the sound is muffled but still there.
Cesare throws back his head and laughs at my anger. When he calms down, he still smiles and I hate how someone so demonic can look so beautiful while he’s smiling. Cesare shakes his head, acting like my anger and words are some comedy show for him.
“Little prince, you seem to have forgotten a thing or two. You see, if the rival family’s son is kidnapped and brought right to my doorstep, especially wrapped up as prettily as you are, I can’t just sit back and watch my present sulk in the corner, can I?
Are you seriously getting mad because I’m thinking about using your mouth? That’s adorable, sweetheart.”
Suddenly, he pulls his hand away from my mouth, only to quickly replace it with his lips in an unexpected, harsh kiss. It ends as fast as it starts—his lips leave mine, his hand on my mouth again, before I can blink.
“Stop!” I snarl against his hand. “You animal—”
Cesare cuts me off by pulling his hand away again and pressing his lips against mine. He bites my lower lip hard and then pulls away slightly, just to slam his hand on my mouth again. The asshole is toying with me at this point.
“I’m an animal?” he asks and smirks. “You’re the pretty little thing tied up under my Christmas tree like a gift and you still have the balls to bark back at me, hmm?”
Cesare slowly pulls back his hand and presses his thumb against my bottom lip, right on the spot where he bit me a moment ago, reminding me of the pain there.
“Not a gift!” I insist.
Cesare chuckles and presses his thumb against my lip harder. I part my lips to speak, but he uses the chance to push his thumb inside my mouth and growls. “Shut the fuck up. You’re whatever I say you are right now.”
I hate the mocking tone he uses, hate that smirk and hate the silent promises of worse things to come. So, like a true Vallesi, I act on an impulse and don’t consider the possible consequences as I bite down on his thumb, hard.
He yanks his finger out of my mouth sharply and instantly slaps his hand back over my mouth, pressing it down so harshly, it actually hurts. “Little shit,” Cesare mutters and the next thing I know, he leans down and bites my neck hard enough for me to scream against his palm.
His hand remains firmly over my mouth as he starts sucking on the spot, definitely leaving a bruise. “Now, you have my mark on you,” he growls and pulls back a little.
In response, I attempt to pull away from him miserably, but he has none of it.
Cesare grabs my hair roughly to prevent me from moving more.
He forces my head back and exposes my neck even more.
“Stay fucking still,” he growls and leans in to bite me again, harder this time, and snarls against my skin, “or I’ll bite you somewhere else. ”
The moment my brain registers the meaning behind his threat, I go completely still.
A slow, sly smirk spreads across his lips as Cesare pulls away from me again and watches me for a bit.
It feels like he’s testing me, waiting for the moment I’ll snap and try to do something stupid again.
When he makes sure I really won’t make a move, he grins.
“Smart choice, Your Highness. Don’t fucking move. ”
For the first time in my life, I listen to a command. I lie on the floor next to the Christmas tree, completely still, while Cesare takes his sweet time, playing with me like a cat would play with a mouse.
The asshole really takes his sweet time, leaving more hickeys on my skin, biting and licking the areas. His hands roam my body like he owns it, every touch dangerously close to areas he shouldn’t touch, like a silent reminder that he could, only if he wanted to.