by Loki Renard
“Cum on his face,” Angelo prompted. “Mark him.”
Mark pulled out and ran his fist along the length of his cock, pumping himself to orgasm. Later, he would wonder why he had obeyed Angelo without question, but in the moment all that mattered was cumming, shooting his seed all over Bobby’s smug mug.
He let out a grunt of pleasure as his orgasm erupted, jets of seed shooting over Bobby’s mouth and nose. Mark did him the courtesy of avoiding his eyes, not that Bobby really deserved it.
Bobby knelt there and took it all, his expression impossible to read as his darkly sweet features were covered in cum.
“Next time you lay a finger on him without permission, he fucks your ass,” Angelo told Bobby. “So make sure to be an obedient boy.”
It was hard not to feel superior and smug in that moment. Bobby had started out so cocky and so rude, and now he was wearing Mark’s seed. A thick string of it was smeared across his lips. As Mark watched, Bobby extended his tongue and licked it up. The sight damn near made Mark cum all over again.
“Good boy,” Angelo purred. “Now go clean up.”
Bobby got up and left the room without another word. Mark watched him go, stunned by what had just happened. That was one of the hottest things he’d ever experienced, and it had been utterly spontaneous. His blood was still rushing in his veins, even as the post coital calm of orgasm worked its magic on his nerves.
“Uhm, thank you,” he said to Angelo. “I think.”
“Bobby is impulsive,” Angelo said. “It is his worst trait. I try to make every mistake he makes a teachable moment.”
It was such a banal thing to say after such a twisted interlude, as if Bobby were a puppy Angelo had caught chewing on his shoes. Mark took a deep breath and nodded, putting his cock back inside his underwear. He knew the talent for twisted shame Bobby had just been the recipient of could be turned on him at any moment. Angelo had no loyalty to him. They were enemies. This wasn’t for his benefit. This was a manipulation. But goddamn, what a manipulation it was.
9
CHAPTER
“You made me suck a junkie’s dick,” Bobby complained when Angelo emerged from his audience with the agent. He’d washed his face and brushed his teeth, but he could still taste FBI cum in the back of his mouth.
“I didn’t make you do anything. I told you to do it, and you did it, because you’re a good boy. But if you’re going to whine about it, maybe you’re not,” Angelo said evenly.
“He could have anything,” Bobby pointed out. “I could have six different STI’s now.”
“The doctor ran bloods and took swabs. He’s clean.”
Bobby scowled. “Why did he do that? Were you planning on fucking him?”
“You looked good on your knees in front of him,” Angelo said, ignoring Bobby’s question. “He’s older and physically more adept than you are. I think he may be your natural superior.”
“Bullshit.” Bobby snarled. Angelo was pushing every button he had, and Bobby really didn’t understand why. Angelo was difficult to read at the best of times, but right now he made no damn sense at all. They were supposed to be a team against this fucking cop.
“If he wasn’t, you wouldn’t have got on your knees so quickly. And you wouldn’t have gotten so hard you came in your pants.”
Bobby reddened. He’d cum a little, not really an orgasm, more a reluctant ejaculation. Angelo knew him too well. Bobby cared about respect and power and Angelo was constantly perverting that desire, making him powerless and showing him disrespect. It made Bobby angry, but it also made him hot as hell. It was an internal contradiction he still didn’t understand after almost a year with Angelo, but which often drove him to extremes.
“I saw, my boy,” Angelo smiled rakishly, his dark eyes sparkling with malevolent glee. “I should have had you service others before.”
“Are you going to get rid of me and start fucking him instead?”
Bobby asked the question his jealousy demanded he ask, even though he knew the answer. Angelo couldn’t get rid of him, even if he wanted to. Their fates were bound together inextricably. Neither one of them could afford to have the other turn against them. Their relationship was one long mutual hostage situation.
“Oh my sweet boy,” Angelo said, wrapping his arms around Bobby’s waist. “You are forever mine. There is no replacing you. Our agent is certainly not a candidate.”
“Good,” Bobby said. He smiled up into Angelo’s eyes. “I want to be the one who kills him.”
Angelo leaned down, his mouth just a fraction of an inch from Bobby’s lips. “In that case, you better be a very, very good boy.”
10
CHAPTER
Alone in the room which effectively doubled as a cell, Mark paced back and forth, sweating and nervous. He’d been left in here for hours and the thrill of the orgasm had worn off long ago. Unfortunately, so had the last of the drugs. His heart kept pounding at random, irregular palpitations that made everything worse. He knew what was wrong with him. Withdrawals. They were a bitch. He’d known the minute Angelo told him he was taking the pills away that this would happen. Mark had been taking them for months now, several times a day. He was dependent.
Clenching and unclenching his fists, he tried to relax. It was physically impossible. His brain was accustomed to getting its hit and without it, every cell in his being felt as though it was screaming. He had to get out, but there was no way. The door was locked, and the window in the bathroom was barred. The one window that overlooked the forest had a fine mesh of wires outside it. It could open a few inches, but when he reached out to see how strong the wires were, he got hit by a jolt of electricity so powerful it singed the skin where it touched, and sent his heart racing all the more.
The agency had to be coming for him, he told himself as he ran his burned fingers under the cold tap. The pain was actually something of a welcome distraction from the panic. Now he could think a little more clearly. He told himself that he was going to be rescued. It was going to be okay. He just had to hold on.
Nothing he told himself really helped. Angelo hadn’t hurt him yet, but Mark had seen the evil in the eyes of his captors and he knew they would soon enough, when it suited them.
At that moment the door opened and Mark felt a wave of relief and fear run through him at exactly the same time. It was Angelo. No Bobby. Thank god. He dried his hand and came out of the bathroom to face whatever fate the monster had in store for him.
“You don’t look well,” Angelo noted.
“Yeah,” Mark replied, trying not to clench his jaw muscles too tight.
“It’s the pills, isn’t it.”
“Does it matter?”
Angelo fixed him with a look and in an instant, Mark knew what it must feel like to be Bobby. There was something about Angelo, a pure force of personality which channeled something almost superhuman. He was more than a man. Or at least, Mark felt that he was in that chemically frantic moment.
“I need to speak with you,” Angelo said smoothly. “And I need you in a frame of mind to listen. Are you ready to listen to me, Mark?”
“Sure,” Mark said, trying to compose himself. It was a challenge when he was standing in tighty whitey underwear in front of one of the most dangerous men in the state.
“You’re a federal agent. There’s no point denying it. I already have my confirmation based on the limited information you’ve given me. Your name is Mark Locke. You have a mother in a rest home, and a sister who lives on the East Coast with her three children and a dog named Rowdy. You like craft beer, and you think unicycles are amusing…” he trailed off at Mark’s stunned expression. “Facebook, darling. Your life is an open book.”
“But my profile is private…”
“Nothing is private online,” Angelo laughed. “And everything is for sale. Now I feel I know you a little better, I think we’re in a position to begin negotiations. Sit down.”
Mark sat on the edge of the bed, nervous. Angelo didn’t
sit. He stayed standing, sucking up all the oxygen in the room.
“You’ve put me in quite a difficult situation, Mark. I’ve unwittingly brought you into my sanctum. If I let you go now, you will surely return with men to take me down, just as Caesar did to the pirates who kidnapped him. Are you familiar with that story?”
Mark shook his head. “I didn’t do much history.”
“Well,” Angelo said. “I do nothing but history, my boy. Julius Caesar… you do know who he is?”
Mark nodded.
“Good. Well, he was once captured by pirates and held for ransom. He did them the courtesy of telling them that he would come and crucify them when he was successfully ransomed. Do you know what they did, Mark?”
Mark shook his head. This was the weirdest, but admittedly, least boring history lesson he’d ever had.
“They laughed. His ransom was paid, and he went free. And do you know what happened next?”
“Nossir.”
“He got a ship, hunted those pirates down and crucified each and every one of them.”
“Wow.” Mark didn’t really know what to say.
“You’re my little JC,” Angelo purred. “You haven’t done me the honor of telling me what you’ll do if I let you go, but you don’t have to, because I learn my lessons from the greats.”
“Well, uhm, I wouldn’t crucify you,” Mark pointed out. “You’d just go to prison.”
“I’d rather be crucified,” Angelo growled. “I have no intention of going anywhere near such a facility. So, Mark, it is up to you to convince me that you will not be a threat if I let you go.”
Mark stared at him. “You’d let me go?”
“If I can be sure you won’t present a danger to me or my operation. That is a high bar to set though, isn’t it, Agent Locke. After all, it is your job to betray me. So let me show you something I think will have some effect.”
He took out his cellphone and swiped to a video before holding it out for Mark to see. Mark’s heart pounded and sank at the same time as he saw a 1080p version of him leaning back, his eyes closed, Bobby Vitali’s mouth wrapped around his dick. The angle of the video came from the upper left corner of the room, and when he looked up that way, he saw that what he’d thought was a smoke detector or a motion sensor must actually be a camera.
“You recorded it.”
“Of course,” Angelo said. “I do not care to waste opportunities.”
“I could just tell them that I was coerced.”
“You could, but there are no restraints, no weapons, and the part where you shoot your load on his face removes any suggestion of unwillingness,” Angelo smiled. “You let your dick get the better of you, Agent Locke. More than that, you let your desire to dominate override your better senses.”
Mark was starting to feel faint and very dizzy. He collapsed back on the bed, stomach churning. Fuck. This was the worst. He wouldn’t just be thrown out of the FBI if they saw this. He’d probably be charged with interfering in an investigation, and that video would be played a hundred times in court.
“Mark?”
Mark couldn’t respond. His breathing started to quicken as his heart pounded. All the panic he’d been pushing away suddenly overwhelmed him leaving him gasping for what felt like his life.
Angelo swore softly under his breath. He knelt on the bed next to Mark, rolled him onto his back, and looked down at him.
“This is because of the pills, isn’t it.”
Mark nodded.
“Alright,” Angelo said. “Just breathe.”
Mark heard the tell tale sound of the cap and a second later, Angelo slipped his hand under Mark’s head and presented a pill.
It felt wrong to take them now. Mark had always regarded his pills as performance enhancers. It never felt like they were a weakness, but they were definitely a liability now. Angelo Vitali literally held Mark’s neurochemistry in his hands. Fuck.
“No,” Mark said. “I don’t need it.”
“A few more hours of this and you’ll be on the verge of seizing,” Angelo said. “Take it, or I’ll force it.”
“No.”
Angelo rolled his eyes. He already had Mark pinned so it was the work of a moment to pinch his nose and wait until Mark’s lungs began to burn. Less than a minute later Mark lost the battle of wills. He opened his mouth to gasp for breath and Angelo dropped the pill in before clamping Mark’s jaw shut with his hand.
“Swallow,” he insisted.
Mark swallowed. Relief and helplessness swept through him. Relief at having his medication, helplessness at how hard it was to resist Angelo.
“I’m going to have to wean you off,” Angelo mused as he stood up. “Can’t have you dying on me, agent. Not before I’ve had my use of you. How many of these were you having per day?”
“I don’t know,” Mark said. “Maybe four, maybe more.”
Angelo let out a long breath. “Maybe more?”
“Not much more, probably. I don’t know. I just took them as needed.”
“And you needed more every day, right?”
“Right.”
“Bobby was right,” Angelo said. “You’re an addict.”
He sounded disappointed. Mark’s stomach cramped. Angelo’s disappointment might very well lead to his death.
“I’m not setting you free while you’re still addicted. Addicts have too many weaknesses to ever be trusted. You’re going to detox here and maybe then we’ll see about letting you go.”
“Please… just let me go. I won’t tell them what happened. I won’t tell them where this place is. Just let me leave,” Mark began to beg. “I’ll get transferred. I’ll never have anything to do with the investigation again, I promise.”
Angelo just smiled calmly. “You’re not going anywhere, boy. Have a shower and get cleaned up. There are clothes in the dresser. They will fit you well enough.”
With that, he turned and left Mark slumped on the bed in total defeat.
After a few minutes, Mark sat up. His wound was aching from the rough handling, but he was already feeling better, as well as feeling worse. He was a captive, but Angelo didn’t seem inclined to kill him. He wanted to use him. All Mark had to do was somehow convince Angelo that he was going to be useful. And that started with a shower.
11
“Pass the peas, please.”
Bobby picked up a silver bowl and handed it to Angelo, who scooped a spoonful of green onto his plate, then offered it to Mark. Mark shook his head.
“You should eat your vegetables,” Angelo purred softly, those dark eyes holding real menace.
Mark took some peas.
Dinner with the mafia wasn’t what Mark had expected it to be. It was incredibly pedestrian. They were sitting in a little dining room which looked out over a green lawn. The grass stretched to the edge of the forest about a quarter mile away. Mark had thought about getting up and just making a run for it several times during the meal, but he knew he had less than zero chance of making it. There were several armed guards on patrol at all times, and he was equally sure that beyond the tree line there would be another one of those electrical fences, no doubt littered with the corpses of little creatures who attempted to climb it.
Angelo was presenting him with an illusion of freedom, a hint of what he could have if he cooperated. He no doubt knew the torment it was causing in Mark’s mind, his desire to be free burning so bright he was almost tipped into stupid desperation.
This wasn’t how most criminals would have treated a federal agent in their midst, but Angelo was not most criminals. Mark had to keep reminding himself that just because Angelo was making everything seem cozy and safe, it didn’t mean he actually was safe. He was in exactly the same amount of danger he would have been in if he was tied up in the basement.
It was strange, to be eating with two men who he was sure would kill him at a moment’s notice. Bobby wasn’t meeting his eye, and that gave Mark a little tingle of satisfaction. He did have some power here, o
r at least, what felt like power. The memory of throwing Bobby around made him feel stronger, and as for the rest of it… mmm. It had been delicious.
In his life prior to his capture, Mark had not indulged his male desires as often as he would have liked. If fucking Bobby Vitali got him out of this place, he’d do it all day long.
“He’s beautiful, isn’t he,” Angelo said.
Mark’s appreciation of Bobby had not gone unnoticed.
“He’s handsome,” Mark allowed himself.
“I couldn’t resist him either,” Angelo said with a rakish smile as Bobby colored and tried to hide it by taking a sip of wine. “But you’ve had your taste of him today, Mark.”
“Oh, I wasn’t…”
“Thinking about using my boy again? Don’t lie to me,” Angelo said with a dark smile. “I am sure you’re thinking of all kinds of things you’d like to do to him. His mouth is delicious, but his other hole is exquisite. So tight…”
Bobby was bright red now. The usually sleek and sophisticated young gangster was blushing like a teenage girl. It was adorable. Mark felt his cock twitching with interest, though he tried not to allow himself to be distracted by the prospect of sex. He was trying to to survive and escape, in that order. He was not trying to bang a gangster’s boyfriend.
“Very nice,” Mark said with a tight smile. He focused on dinner. The food was very, very good. The best he’d had in a long time. The pasta was rich and creamy, so satisfying that he had to keep from groaning with every bite.
He was being seduced, By Angelo, by Bobby, by the food, by the lifestyle that was so much richer and in some ways, deeper than what the agency offered. His life working for the FBI was fairly austere. But that wasn’t the point. You didn’t work for the government because you wanted to get rich. You did it because the world needed good guys to balance the bad guys.