by Loki Renard
“You think I needed an electric butt plug?”
“I do,” Angelo said. “And you did. You came down the stairs so cocky, so ready for a fight. If I had let you go, I would have had to have hurt you far more than I did by using my little toys on you.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because you don’t want to be let go.” Angelo’s hand slid around Mark’s waist and found his crotch. “You want to be held. You want to be loved. You want to be taken as you need to be taken. That won’t happen out there. It only happens here.”
His large hand squeezed Mark’s cock through his underwear.
Mark let out a shuddering breath. No. He would not be seduced by someone who had used electricity on his asshole. He had standards.
“You hurt me.”
“Yes,” Angelo purred. “And now I want to make us both feel better.”
Mark could have resisted, but he didn’t. Not when Angelo pressed a kiss to his temple, not when he slid his hand up over his underwear and then inside to wrap his fingers around Mark’s thick rod. Goddamn, why was he erect?
“If you want to feel good, all you have to do is obey. It’s so easy.”
Angelo sat on the bed behind Mark and stroked his cock in slow motions as Mark lay there, unsure of what to do. He could have stopped Angelo at any time, but the touch was soothing and it was hot and it made his mind race, not just with erotic thoughts, but with the realization of how utterly unique this situation was.
His early sexual experiences had mostly been furtive and groping in the dark out the back of the barracks, just the rough pounding of flesh on flesh. That had been hot for a while, but one of the things he’d looked forward to when he got out was being able to be himself. That hadn’t panned out. Competition among rookies was fierce, and getting his gay on wasn’t exactly encouraged during training at Quantico, or even as a rookie.
In Angelo’s world, sexuality wasn’t an issue. He refused to allow his gayness to matter, and so it didn’t. Mark had read the studies and profiles on him. He knew how Angelo had carved out a niche in a business known for machismo and homophobia simply by being far more effective than those who wasted their time on caring about those things. Every time he was underestimated for being gay, he had taught harsh, sometimes brutal lessons, until in the end, he was accepted.
Mark had admired Angelo since first learning about the man. Part of him not only didn’t hate the fact that he was captive - part of him was thrilled. This was a man who lived fully, who did not allow social norms or laws to control him. He was free in a way very few people were or ever would be. But he was also evil, and twisted and, entirely criminal.
“Does that feel good?” Angelo purred the words in his ear.
“Yes,” Mark admitted in a low moan.
“Good,” Angelo squeezed just below the head of his cock. “I can make you feel good, Mark. I can make everything better if you just let me.”
Mark let out a sigh as Angelo toyed with him. This did feel good, but he couldn’t forget himself enough to truly let go. He was a federal agent, and this was his mark.
“What the hell is going on?”
Bobby interrupted abruptly, slamming into the room He didn’t sound or look happy. His features were set in a jealous scowl which almost made Mark feel guilty for a second before he realized he had no agency in any of this. He was just a passenger along for the ride.
“What do you mean?” Angelo rose from the bed to face his lover.
“You were going to fuck him, weren’t you.”
Shit, this really did add another layer of complication. Maybe Bobby would be the one who literally saved Mark’s ass by pitching a fit if Angelo tried to be intimate with him.
“I don’t answer to you, little boy,” Angelo growled at Bobby.
“Oh yes you fucking do,” Bobby shot back. Mark sat up, fascinated by the scene playing out in front of him. It didn’t seem as though anyone stood up to Angelo very often, least of all Bobby.
“Excuse me?” Angelo’s voice had gotten softer, more dangerous. “You’re forgetting yourself.”
“No. You are.”
Bobby pulled a gun from behind his back and pointed it not at Angelo, but straight at Mark.
“We should fucking kill him and be done with it,” he growled. “He’s a fed. He’s our enemy. But you think he’s attractive so you’re keeping him around to play your sick fucking games with him. Give me one good reason I shouldn’t shoot him in the fucking head.”
So this was how Mark died. With a semi-erection in a criminal’s bed. There were worse places to die, he figured as the peculiar calm which often accompanies acceptance of death sank through him.
Angelo started to prowl toward Bobby. “You don’t want me to play with him, is that it? You’re jealous? You want me to fuck you instead? You want me to take out everything I have for him on you?”
The gun wavered in Bobby’s hand. Mark saw the younger man gulp. Shit. Bobby was so far out of his league. No boy in his early twenties could ever be a match for Angelo Vitali. It was obvious that Bobby wasn’t actually planning on pulling the trigger. He’d bought a gun to a cock fight and he was losing.
“I want him dead.” Bobby sounded almost petulant, like a boy who wanted a toy he couldn’t have.
“Why? Because killing law enforcement seems like a good idea to you? That’s stupid, Bobby, even for you. I’ve explained this before, and I won’t do it again. Give me that gun and get your ass over the bed. Now!” Angelo thundered the order.
Bobby obeyed almost meekly. Releasing his hold on the weapon, he handed it to Angelo, who took the gun in one hand and grabbed Bobby by the back of the neck with his other. He threw Bobby down on the bed roughly, forcing Mark to get out of the way of his sprawling frame.
“Hold him,” Angelo ordered Mark. “Pin him down.”
Mark moved to obey, if only to keep the man who wanted to kill him from being able to jump up and attack him if he got a second wind of bravery.
Angelo yanked Bobby’s pants down, baring his ass. He had a nice rear, fit and defined and full. Mark felt himself responding. God. He was such a goddamned top. Even when looking at the butt of a man who had just held a gun to his head he couldn’t stop wanting to sink himself between those sweet cheeks. It would be good revenge too, for what Bobby had done to him earlier with that probe.
The thought shocked him a little, both the content of it and how quickly it had come to him. It was so easy to be evil. The more he was around Angelo and Bobby, the more he found his normal ways of thinking evaporating to be replaced with dark, lustful thoughts.
While Mark held Bobby in place and mused philosophically about the nature of good, evil and sex, Angelo had taken his belt off and doubled it over.
“Hold him still,” he instructed Mark. “I don’t want to miss with this.”
Bobby was squirming around far too much so Mark put his training to use, pinning one of Bobby’s hands up behind his back, and using the other to grab the murderous boy’s hair.
“Good,” Angelo said. “Just like that.
Angelo swung the belt back and bought it down with a hard crack against Bobby’s rear. Mark watched, fascinated and aroused as a bright red thick mark rose across both the boy’s cheeks, to be followed by another and another as Angelo piled the belt against Bobby’s ass.
“Fuck yes,” he growled softly under his breath. Bobby deserved every bit of this.
“You do NOT point guns at our guests,” Angelo lectured. “And you do not let your jealousy get the better of you. I will fuck who I want to fuck, boy.”
He lashed Bobby’s rear over and over, the pink lines beginning to blur into one large red mass. Bobby was screaming into the bed, though whether it was from pain or rage, Mark couldn’t tell.
Finally, Angelo threw the belt down, and pulled his cock out of his pants.
Fuck. Angelo was glorious in every way. His cock was thick, heavy, and long, veined like a bull. As he took some lube from his
pocket and smeared it on his shaft and head, Mark suddenly understood Bobby’s jealousy.
“Hold his ass open for me.”
Mark moved his hands down, away from Bobby’s arm and neck. Bobby could have bucked up at any moment, but he stayed down as Mark slid his hands over those hot red cheeks and parted them to allow Angelo access to Bobby’s little winking star.
There was no foreplay. Angelo just gripped his dick and pushed his way deep inside his boy. The sound Bobby made when Angelo pushed inside him was one of pure pleasure, a groan of masculine delight.
“You wanted this all along, didn’t you,” Angelo snarled, pumping his dick deeper inside Bobby.
Now Mark was totally hard and completely transfixed. This was hotter than anything he’d ever been around in his life. The passion between Angelo and Bobby was incendiary, making Mark’s blood run hot in his veins as he stared at Angelo’s cock pounding in and out of that snug hole.
“Yes!” Bobby screamed. “Yes I fucking wanted this!”
He was biting the covers, his ass raised to Angelo, offering himself with such raw submission that Mark damn near couldn’t take it. He slid his hands from Bobby’s ass, and knelt next to the pair of rutting males, trying not to touch his painfully hard cock. When he could stand the arousal no longer, he pulled his own dick out and began to masturbate, his eyes locked on the scene before him as he stroked himself.
Angelo looked over at him with one of those wolfish smiles, and Mark saw a dark notion spark in the man’s mind.
“You should take him too,” Angelo growled, sinking himself full depth inside Bobby’s ass. “After all, it was you he was threatening.” He gave Bobby a few more languid pumps. “What do you think, boy, are you ready to make it up to Agent Locke?”
Mark couldn’t help his grin. Angelo was using the term agent just to mess with Bobby. Mark knew he wasn’t really a person to Robert Vitali. He was the physical embodiment of an organization dedicated to bringing them to justice. That was why Bobby hated him so much - in addition to being romantic competition in the most twisted of ways.
“What was that, Bobby?” Angelo pulled all the way out to the tip. “Do you want another cock?”
“Yesss…” Bobby hissed the answer, his teeth gritted as he shut his eyes, trying to deny what he was asking for even as he asked for it.
Angelo pulled out of Bobby’s ass, the spread hole staying open, clenching a little as Bobby’s well trained sphincter adjusted to the temporary intermission.
“Do you want a turn?” Angelo looked at Mark.
Fuck yes he wanted a turn. He needed a turn.
Getting around behind Bobby, Mark pressed the head of his cock to Bobby’s hot little ring. God. It felt so good. The anticipation of sinking inside him was delicious, so much so that Mark held himself there for a long moment until Bobby began to whimper and squirm. The cocky violent little fucker who had been ready to blow his brains out was long gone, replaced with a horny boy who just needed to be taken.
“Patience,” Mark chided, allowing just the head of his cock to push past that tight ring. Oh God yes. This was everything he had imagined, a hot, tight, greasy hole enveloping his cock greedily.
As he started to stroke in and out, Mark felt his emotions start to unlock. This little shit had threatened his life. How fucking dare he? He’d show this boy who was on top, and what would happen if he ever tried to threaten Mark again.
Bobby let out a grunt as Mark started to fuck him with hard, punishing strokes. Fuck. Yes. He needed this. He needed to take out all his anger, his frustration, his fear on this sweet ass. But even this wasn’t enough. Pounding his ass felt good, but Mark needed even more. He needed Bobby to submit. To take him fully willingly. There could be no hiding in passive submission.
Mark lifted his hand and smacked Bobby’s bottom. “Fuck yourself on my cock.”
“Yes, very good,” Angelo praised. He had slipped across the room and was wiping his dick with a wet towel. He returned and grabbed Bobby by the head, slipping his cock into the younger man’s mouth. “Use him, Mark. Unleash all that frustrated desire the FBI won’t allow. You don’t have to be a eunuch with us.”
Mark’s eyes met Angelo’s as he thrust deep and then held back so Bobby could slide back and forth too, working his hot round ass on Mark’s shaft. He and Angelo were in this together, using Bobby. Disciplining him. Fucking him. Taking him. Mark could feel his cum roiling in his balls. Fuck. Yes. Buttery walls gripped him so damn tight.
He could get used to this. Not just fucking Bobby, but being free in this way, free to fuck as he liked, to be as dark and dirty as he liked, to express himself in a way he absolutely couldn’t anywhere else. This was depraved lechery at its finest.
“Cum inside him,” Angelo invited. “Cum inside that hungry ass.”
Mark didn’t need more prompting. He grabbed Bobby by the hips and railed him hard, the little gasps and squeals emerging from the gangster only serving to heighten Mark’s pleasure. Maybe one day Bobby would kill him, but for the moment nothing mattered more than spending his seed deep in Bobby’s tight little ass.
He came with a roar, his cum shooting deep in Bobby’s bowels. With jerky, panting strokes Mark emptied himself fully, his balls draining into this deserving little asshole’s asshole.
It was only after he came and pulled out that he realized not one of them had worn a condom. And that his arm was hurting like hell.
He collapsed down beside the pair of them, barely watching as Angelo finished inside Bobby’s mouth.
God. What was he doing? It hadn’t even been a week since Angelo took him and he’d already cum inside Bobby Vitali twice. Wet sucking fucking sounds were emitting from the pair beside him as regret began to spiral through Mark, starting in the pit of his belly and working up to his brain.
Lying on the bed, his desire sated, but his conscience screaming, Mark knew he was in trouble.
14
Several days later…
“I’m really more of a top,” Mark explained. “I’ve never taken another man, you know, inside.”
“Then it will be a unique and worthwhile experience, as well as serving to secure your freedom.” Angelo replied with one of his oh so elegant smiles.
They were eating breakfast together on the terrace, the two of them sitting there like old friends while Bobby brought the pair of them their meals from the kitchen. There was a staff here somewhere, though Angelo had made certain to keep Mark out of their sight and vice versa.
Mark couldn’t believe he was still discussing sex with Angelo Vitali. Over the past few days, things had settled into an odd kind of ‘normal’. It was normal to be a captive. It was normal to have a boy to order around. It was normal to be told that he’d have to give his ass for his freedom. All perfectly normal.
But Mark was starting to get desperate, and not just for freedom. Angelo’s seduction was beginning to take effect, working on Mark’s natural curiosity and desire. If there was no choice but to allow Angelo to take him, perhaps he should just give in and let it happen. Angelo showed no sign of relenting from his requirement, twisted as it was.
“You could go home today,” Angelo purred, catching Mark’s thought. “Unless, of course, you like being captive here.”
“No,” Mark said quickly. “I don’t like being here.”
“Are you sure? You have a boy to use, delicious food, no responsibilities…”
“The off chance of being murdered on any given day.”
“Well,” Angelo allowed. “Nowhere is perfect.”
Mark nodded, gazing out into the sky. This was so fucking weird. It had made more sense when he’d been stuck with a probe and shocked. That was what bad guys did. This… this conversational degradation of everything he’d ever believed in was far more insidious.
Angelo was charming, handsome, and as long as he got what he wanted, relatively safe. Sometimes he even felt like a partner of sorts. They were two men on the opposite sides of the law, but there was
a certain kinship - or at least Angelo was manufacturing the illusion of one.
“What do you want from me, exactly? I can’t exactly tell the bureau that I’ve been hanging out here with you. They’ll come for you.”
“You’re going to tell them that you were held captive by the Leonti family,” Angelo said. “You’re going to tell them that you barely escaped Mario Leonti’s clutches alive.”
“So someone else is going to take the fall for you.”
“Someone else always does,” Angelo smiled.
Mark nodded grimly. That was one objection down. There was still another.
“What about Bobby?”
“What about him?”
“He’s possessive of you.”
“And I am possessive of him, but you have had him for yourself. There is no reason I should not have you too.”
Mark felt a blush rising to his cheeks. If only Angelo weren’t Angelo Vitali. If only he were a handsome man Mark had met on holiday. Then he could have followed his instincts, allowed Angelo to take what he wanted.
“Why?”
“Because I know what it will mean to you to give what I am asking for,” Angelo purred softly. “I know it will be a perversion of your very core. And I will drink that in. When you cry out beneath me, when you spill your seed at my urging, I will know that you are mine.”
“Not if I’m just doing it because I have to though.”
“Which is why I have not taken you against your will,” Angelo said simply. “I want your consent, Agent Locke. I want you to beg me for every inch of the cock which will free you from yourself.”
Fuck. Even a simple conversation with Angelo was more arousing than most anything Mark had ever experienced. He could feel himself reacting, his cock hardening in the slacks which were not his, but which fit him perfectly.
“You are getting close, I think,” Angelo purred. “Soon you will give yourself to me, and it will be everything we have both desired.”
Maybe he was right. Mark didn’t know what was going to happen now. All he knew was that he was trapped in a way he’d never been trapped before. Angelo had him restrained mentally, tied up in a thousand excruciating internal knots.