by Loki Renard
“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, or 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.
These men were very bad guys.
“Are you enjoying yourself, Mark?”
Another innocent sounding question that was anything but.
“The meal is incredible,” Mark said. “Thank you.”
Angelo smiled broadly. “You have excellent taste, Mark. I have high hopes for you.”
Bobby snorted into his wine glass.
“You have an objection, Bobby?”
“He’s a fucking agent!” Bobby exclaimed, putting his glass down sharply. “This is ridiculous. He shouldn’t be at the table with us. He should be in a shallow grave.”
Angelo gave one of his sighs of disappointment. “You know what’s more useful than an agent, Bobby?”
“What?”
“A double agent. Mark can be of great use to us. We can have a man inside the agency. Someone looking out for us.”
Mark stared, the food becoming heavy in his stomach. Angelo was talking about him betraying his country and his oath
“No,” Mark said, his voice raw with fear at the thought of arousing Angelo’s ire, but stronger than he thought it would be. “I won’t do that.”
“Of course you will, “Angelo smirked. “I don’t intend
to give you any choice. I need an agency man, and you’re perfect.”
“No,” Mark repeated.
“Let me hurt him,” Bobby insisted.
“Absolutely not,” Angelo replied with a patient smile. “He just needs a little encouragement.”
“I’m sorry, Mr Vitali. I can’t do that.”
“No? You’d rather die here, painfully, a long way from anyone you know?”
“If I have to.”
“For what reason?”
“I’m not going to betray my colleagues…”
“Yes,” Angelo said. “Let’s talk about those colleagues of yours. The ones who sent you in without backup. The ones who failed to see armed men approaching, or to intervene if they did see. Do you know what you were, Mark?”
“What?”
“Bait.” The word fell from Angelo’s lips. “You were meant to die in that room. I’m sure of it.”
“No,” Mark shook his head. “I was just there to get close to you and observe…”
“I’ve spent the last twenty four hours canvassing all the crime families I know. Not a single one of them has claimed that hit. Strange, no? Almost like it wasn’t a genuine assault. Almost as if it was simply designed to give them a body they could use against me.”
“No,” Mark said. “They wouldn’t do that. The agency doesn’t sacrifice agents for convictions.”
Bobby started laughing with genuine amusement. “Oh we have to take him to a party. He’s adorable. The agency doesn’t sacrifice agents? A dead agent is one of the best ways to guarantee a conviction. Judges and juries get all twisted up about them, and whoever gets blamed for it goes down.”
Mark pressed his lips together. He didn’t believe them. They were lying to him. Trying to manipulate him. He wasn’t going to let them twist his mind. He was not going to flip.
Angelo wiped his hands on a serviette and sat back, his tone cordial and pleasant. “Think about it, Mark. They haven’t come for you. I’ve had you all of twenty four hours and no armed men have swung through the windows. No police have knocked on my door. They don’t know where you are, and they don’t care.”
Mark shifted uncomfortably. “I’m sure they’re looking.”
“They’re not.” Angelo said simply. “They’re waiting for you to show up dead.”
“And how long is that going to be if I don’t co-operate?”
“I’m not going to kill you, Mark.”
“I will,” Bobby interjected.
“No, you won’t.” Angelo reached out and ran his fingers over Mark’s jawline. “He’s not going to get out of this that easily.”
Mark felt a chill zip down his spine, spreading ice through his body as he froze before this perfect predator. Angelo’s expression and touch were affectionate, but Mark knew damn well that there was no affection here, not in the way there would be with a normal person. Angelo was not a typical man. Love and pain were bound up together in the core of his being so tightly that they were basically the same thing. None of the usual descriptions of criminals like him applied. Dark. Twisted. Black hearted. He was none of those things, and yet he was all of them. Somehow, Angelo contained the very worst traits of man without being tainted by them. He made them beautiful and alluring.
Mark had long ago allied himself with the good guys of the world, but now he was coming face to face with the seductive power of a real devil - and he wasn’t sure he could resist.
“You’re too pretty to kill,” Angelo declared. “And you’re going to be mine. Just like Bobby.”
“All due respect, sir…”
“You’re going to do as I say,” Angelo purred softly, tapping Mark’s cheek lightly. “You’re going to do everything I ask, and you’re going to do it eagerly.”
Mark really couldn’t have agreed less. He wasn’t going to belong to Angelo. He wasn’t going to betray the agency, or his country. None of these things were going to happen, no matter how sure Angelo was.
“And what am I going to have to do to leave here? You say I have to convince you, but how do I do that?”
“I’ll know when you’ve given me your loyalty,” Angelo said with a wolfish smile. “I’ll know because you’ll have given yourself to me.”
Mark’s jaw dropped.
Bobby let out a cold laugh while Angelo simply smiled with that predatory grin. If Mark had understood him correctly, he had to let Angelo fuck him in order to get out.
“Give myself to you?”
“Sexually.” Angelo clarified without shame.
“You mean you’re going to…”
“Fuck you? Yes. The moment I saw you I wanted to have you. Now I have a good reason to.”
Mark took a sip of wine and glanced over at Bobby. The younger man did not seem any more pleased by the revelation than Mark did.
“I really think you should just let me go,” he said. “I can cut a deal. I can get you a reduced sentence…”
Angelo let out a laugh. “No,” he said. “That would be playing the game by your rules, and I always play by mine. You will give your body to me, Agent Locke, and I will satisfy myself with your loyalty before you leave this place.”
“But…” Mark didn’t even know what to say. The entire proposition was just so ludicrous. “Sex doesn’t equal loyalty.”
“It does when I’m done with a man.” Angelo cast a significant look over at Bobby.
“A magic penis is not going to keep you out of jail, Mr Vitali.”
“There’s no magic to what I do,” Angelo purred softly, seeming unoffended by Mark’s flippant remark. “When I claim a man, he stays claimed.”
Mark really didn’t know what to say to Angelo. The demand for sex didn’t shock him as much as the bizarre reasoning did. But this was a man who traded in dark favors, who used sex as a weapon. Mark was well aware he would do well not to underestimate Angelo Vitali.
“You’re not ready yet, I know,” Angelo said, waving his hand. “When the time comes, you will beg me for it. Until then, enjoy your dessert.”
Dinner ended in silence and tiramisu. Then Mark fled to bed.
12
“Spread your ass, Agent.”
Angelo stood over Mark, rubbing lubricant over his cock, his face a mask of merciless desire.
Mark wanted to refuse, but his hands went almost mechanically to his ass. He did as he was told because there was no such thing as choice anymore. There was only desire. Angelo’s desire - and his own. Mark’s dick was rock hard beneath his belly, dripping precum.
It was a dream. He knew it wasn’t real. He clung to it though. He stayed in that place where the dark and dominant Angelo Vitali was poised to push his thick cock deep inside his ass. Some part of him wanted it, the ultimate debasement. He’d never been on the bottom before, but that didn’t matter. He was craving the dark, and it was coming to him more swiftly than he could handle.
“I said hold your ass open.”
Mark’s trembling fingers pulled his cheeks apart.
“Wider.” Another relentless command.
He was stuck there, his cheeks spread, his tight virgin hole on display.
“I’m going to fuck you,” Angelo declared, his voice so beautiful Mark could barely stand it. “And you’re going to be mine, forever. There will be no others after me.”
“No…” Mark whimpered. “No…”
It didn’t matter what he said. He was going to be taken. He could feel it in the very core of him. There was no escaping Angelo Vitali, not even in his dreams. Except the dream was fading now and as much as he tried to get back to it, just that last little bit remained, that sense of being open and vulnerable and so damn eager for the worst thing that could ever happen to him.
He woke to a note by his bed, and half a pill with it. Angelo hadn’t forgotten. It was almost sweet, but Mark knew Angelo wasn’t sweet. He was calculating.
Mark’s erection was painfully hard beneath the sheets. He put his good hand to his cock and began working to relieve the tension.
Being around the Vitali men wasn’t safe while horny. As he worked himself toward release, he closed his eyes and let his mind fill with thoughts. The first was Bobby on his knees, sucking his cock. In the fantasy it lasted longer than it had in real life. In the fantasy, Bobby was naked and he was eager.
It hit Mark suddenly that what he was fantasizing about was being Angelo. Having the kind of power over other men that Angelo did. Mark drew his knees up and stroked himself to a hard climax imagining himself to have the sort of sway which bought men to their knees, dreaming of idealized power, unceasing domination. It was a rush which left him panting against the sweaty sheets.
With one of his needs temporarily sated, Mark got up, ready to start the day. What did that even mean for a captive of the house of Vitali? He figured it probably meant the same as anywhere else, a trip to the bathroom.
The wound in his arm was already starting to heal. He knew that because it was itching and sore. He unwound the bandage and looked at it in the mirror. A couple of tight stitches held his flesh closed. It looked good though, nice and clean. No sign of infection.
As he looked at what he knew would be a perpetual scar in his bicep, Angelo’s words from the previous evening came back. Who shot him? Was it friendly fire? Was it on purpose? No. He had to push that thought out of his head. Angelo was trying to make him doubt so that it would be easier to manipulate him. The profile had been very clear that Angelo Vitali was a man who operated on mental, not physical control.
Mark threw the pill Angelo had left him down his throat and chased it with some water. Okay. His head was a bit clearer now. He could think.
Suddenly, the utter ludicrousness of the situation slammed into him.
What the hell was he doing? He was allegedly being held captive, but there were no chains, no ropes. The windows were barred, but most of the doors weren’t even locked, and he’d just had the most comfortable night’s sleep of his life. These were hardly the experiences of a captive.