Page 14 of Beautifully Savage Butterfly

Chapter 7

ELIO

I wrap my fingers around the familiar handle of the nine-millimeter I keep on my nightstand, the action so automatic that it doesn’t matter that I’m not really awake yet. I’m still lost in a dream about being put over Orion’s knee and spanked that was so vivid I swear my ass cheeks are tingling with the phantom shape of his hand. My cock is rock hard, my vision bleary as I blink into the darkness of my bedroom, silky bedsheets tangled around my legs and I try to figure out what woke me.

Thud, thud, thud.

The thunderous pounding at my front door answers the question for me, jolting me out of bed, my heart racing for only a second before a steely sort of calm washes over me. Chances are good that it’s one of my soldiers at the door, possibly one of the more stupid capos with the idiotic idea to show up at my door in the middle of the night, banging down my door like the fucking Vandals at the gates of Rome.

I can’t imagine an assassin or one of Fitzpatrick’s men announcing themselves like this before an attempt on my life. But anything’s possible, which is why I cock my gun as I move silently through my dark apartment, my bare feet not making a single sound on the cool floor. My breathing is steady, my heart beating out an even rhythm as more rapid, urgent pounding rattles my eardrums the closer I get to the door.

This is why Lorenzo chose a building with two doormen. I opted for a place with more lax security in exchange for private rooftop access so I could plant a vegetable garden. I always feel smug about the decision when I’m enjoying juicy heirloom tomatoes fresh off the vine, but right now I’m willing to admit that my brother may have made the wiser choice. Not that I’d ever tell him that.

Thud, thud, thud, thud.

“Open the goddamn door, Elio.”

A hot shiver runs down my spine, melting my icy composure in an instant. The hair on my arms and the back of my neck stands on end, and my breath hitches. I lower my gun, making an automatic move to tuck it into my holster before realizing that not only am I not wearing one, I’m not wearing much of anything.

I turn the lock and pull the door open just an inch, leaning against the doorframe and peeking out through the crack, a slow, lazy smirk spreading over my lips as I take in the stuff wet dreams are made of. Orion is standing in my hallway, his chest heaving with ragged breaths, his face twisted with the kind of rage that might make a lesser man quake. Of course, it has the opposite effect on me. The soft cotton of my briefs pulls taut over the rapid swell of my cock.

“Or what? You’ll huff, and you’ll puff, and you’ll blow it down?” I taunt.

A muscle in his jaw twitches, and my eyes wander to the healing cut, the butterfly sutures still in place. The memory of his fingers tugging at my hair and his cock pummeling my throat makes my mouth water and my nipples tighten, my whole body vibrating with the urge to throw myself at him. Have I lost any ounce of dignity I’ve ever had when it comes to Orion? Absolutely. Do I care? Not even a little.

He puts a hand on the door and shoves it, hard, knocking me off balance just long enough to give him the chance to force his way inside. By any definition this is a home invasion, and if the look on his face is anything to go by, he’s here to kill me. It’s a new level of fucked up that my dick twitches and I nearly pant at the thought. I’d rather die with Orion’s hands around my throat than have anyone else touch me at all.

As if he can read my thoughts, he uses one hand to swing the door closed behind him while he wraps the other around my throat and backs me up against the nearest wall. An accent table covered with priceless knick-knacks rattles next to me. For all the rage etched deeply into the lines of his face, his grip isn’t even hard enough to bruise—just enough to hold me in place. I dart my tongue out to wet my lips, letting him force me to my tip toes as he moves in close, bringing us chest to chest, nose to nose, my throbbing cock pressed right up against the unmistakable bulge in his jeans.

He might be pissed, but he’s getting off on this just as much as I am. Whether he wants to admit it to himself or not.

He bares his teeth in a feral snarl, his long hair hanging in loose, wild waves around his face.

“Why’d you do it?” The question is quiet, but dripping with menace. I’m not sure if I should blame lingering sleep fog or the fact that my dick refuses to share any of the blood flow with my brain right now for the fact that I don’t have the first clue what he’s talking about. He doesn’t wait for me to figure it out on my own though. “You think by paying off my debt you fucking own me? You wanted something to hang over my head? What?”

I don’t have a good answer. At least not one he’s likely to accept.

“How did you find out where I live?” I ask instead.

His fingers flex around my throat and the snarl curls into a dangerous smirk. “It wasn’t hard to figure out which side of town I’d find you on. You’d be surprised how many people in this neighborhood were more than happy to sell you out with the smallest amount of prompting.”

“Prompting?” I repeat with a chuckle. “Don’t tell me you did something as immoral as threatening someone.” I click my tongue in disapproval, barely managing to hold back the moan that swells in my chest at his answering growl of frustration, his body pressing harder against mine.

“I didn’t wave a fucking gun around,” he hisses.

The comment reminds me that mine is still clutched tightly in my hand.

“This is the reason you hate me?” I drag the barrel of the pistol along his hip. “Take it, then. I don’t need it.”

Orion scoffs, his eyes darkening as they bore into mine.

“I hate you because you lord over this city like a self-appointed monarchy. Your family lives with their hands around the throats of the rest of us, lining your pockets with our money and washing our blood off your shoes like it means nothing to any of you.” His words are more effective than any physical blow could ever be, rocking me and stunning me to silence. But he’s not done. “But the worst thing about you, Elio, is that you think you can have anything you want. You’re spoiled. You think you can walk into my life and start taking care of my problems like you’re my fucking daddy. I didn’t need a daddy when I was a kid, and I sure as fuck don’t need one now.” His nostrils flare and his hot breath fans over my lips, his eyes burning with an intensity that makes my heart flail and my body ache for him. “I have half a mind to pull your underwear down and beat your ass until you get it through your head that you can’t have every fucking thing you want.”

I can’t? That’s funny, because the only thing I want right now is exactly what he just threatened me with. I want it more than my next breath.

“Please,” I rasp, rocking my hips to drag my throbbing cock against him, my eyelids fluttering when he tightens his grip around my throat again, finally hard enough that I can feel the faint ache of bruises forming.

“You’re kind of fucked in the head, aren’t you?” Orion murmurs.

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