Page 23 of Beautifully Savage Butterfly

The floor creaks under my shoes as I step in after him and close the door behind me. A stale smell of mold lingers in the air, just managing to overpower the distinct scent of Orion that fills the apartment. I’m curious what his place is like. What type of furniture did he pick out? Is he the Spartan kind of decorator or will there be personal touches that give me the chance to know him better? But I barely have the chance to let my eyes adjust to my surroundings before he spins towards me and wraps his fist around my tie to drag me in for another punishing kiss.

I stumble into him, bracing my hands on his chest, bunching the soft material of his t-shirt in my fists. He yanks on my tie with one hand and tangles the other in my hair. My cock heaves and jerks, a whimper tightening my throat.

“You know what, Brat?” he murmurs against my lips between biting kisses. “I think I feel bad for you. You’ve probably never appreciated a damn thing in your life, have you?”

My brain stutters over the question. If this is supposed to be dirty talk, I have to admit it’s… confusing. The condescending undertone is definitely doing it for me though. Luckily, he doesn’t wait for me to work out an answer. He keeps talking as he drags me down the hallway by my hair and tie.

“When everything is easy and everything is disposable, it’s impossible to give a fuck about any of it. How do you think it feels to want something and know you can’t have it?”

Orion shoves his tongue back into my mouth and I shiver. I try to imagine the desperation of what he’s describing. I want to tell him that’s exactly how I’ve been craving him for months now, with a hopeless, urgent greed that didn’t feel like it would ever be sated. But deep down, there’s always been part of me that knew I could wear him down. Every time he looked at me with burning contempt in his eyes, it just made me more determined to have him.

“Do you have any idea how sweet it feels to get your hands on something you were sure was out of reach?” he goes on, pulling me through the door to his bedroom and turning us around so my back is to his bed.

The space is so small that it only takes two shuffling steps before I’m tumbling onto the bed, my scalp stinging and my lungs burning for deep breaths I can hardly manage to gulp down. Orion towers over me, standing next to the bed and looking at me with a predatory gleam in his eyes that has my hand twitching towards my cock. He knocks it back with a reflexive slap before I get anywhere near it.

He braces a hand on the bed next to my head, the other still wrapped around my tie, pulling it tight around my throat, and leans in until his nose is half an inch from mine. “I’m going to show you how it feels to be fucking desperate, Elio.”

The threatening growl in his voice tightens around my balls and makes my cock leak, precum spilling hot and sticky inside my briefs. My hips jerk up, and I groan when I make contact with the hard shape of his erection. Orion flattens himself against me, pinning me to the bed with the weight of his body, brushing his lips over mine again without actually kissing me.

“Strip, Brat,” he demands before pushing off me, leaving me feeling cold without his body heat surrounding me.

Orion unwinds my tie from around his knuckles and then crosses his arms, staring down at me expectantly, both eyebrows raised, an almost bored look on his face, like he cares less about getting me naked than he does about making me do as he says. Humiliation heats my face and another slick burst of precum dampens my underwear. I reach up with trembling fingers to undo my tie first.

It’s wrinkled, and the knot is compressed enough that it takes both hands for me to undo it. Once I have it off, he holds his hand out. I hand it over and Orion grunts and nods, a wordless demand to keep going. I kick off my shoes, letting them fall one at a time next to the bed, before I shrug off my jacket and unstrap my holster. Then, I start to work open the buttons on my shirt one by one.

The room is silent except for the sound of our breathing and the white noise of traffic from the street below. Several tendrils of hair broke loose from the messy bun on top of his head at some point, giving him a wild look that matches the untamed glint in his eyes, both completely at odds with the disinterested mask he’s holding in place.

My breathing ratchets up with every inch of skin I expose, but Orion’s stays steady, his eyes tracking my progress as my shirt slowly falls open. I tug it loose from my pants and finish the last few buttons, then shrug it off the same way I did with my jacket. I reach for my belt next, and he holds his hand out for that too. I hand it over, the metal jangling as he wraps his fist around it. I bite my lip against a groan as I unzip my pants, the vibration of the zipper over my overeager shaft almost enough to make me embarrass myself. I hook my fingers in my pants and underwear, dragging them down at the same time, lifting my hips off the bed then kicking them the rest of the way off when they’re low enough.

He drags his gaze over my exposed body, bare and completely on display in the harsh light of his bedroom. My thighs tremble slightly, spread so he can stand between them, my cock stiff and leaking against my belly, my nipples pebbled but half hidden by my dark chest hair. I squirm against the urge to cover myself when his attention gets to be too much and not enough at the same time. I want him to touch me. I want him to tell me he hasn’t stopped thinking about me since I deep throated his cock in that seedy fucking bathroom. I want him to call me a brat again, flip me over, and spank my ass so hard I cry. But he doesn’t do any of that. He just stares.

I squirm and make an impatient noise. A slow, devious grin spreads over his lips, and my breath catches in my throat.

ORION

The wide-eyed look of worry on Elio’s face is almost as satisfying as the drip, drip, drip of precum pooling on his stomach. His cock flexes and another whiny sound vibrates past his lips. I let out a low, dangerous chuckle and crawl onto the bed to straddle him, holding myself over him with my legs on either side of his hips. His dick jerks again, bumping against my aching balls.

Elio moans and reaches for me, groping at my chest, tugging on my t-shirt, groaning, and writhing underneath me. I bite back another laugh. If he’s this impatient already, he’s in for a long night. I wrap his belt around his wrist, pulling the end through the loop and tugging it tight. He stills, his lips parting and his breath catching.

“What…”

“I already told you,” I say gruffly, grabbing his other hand and wrapping it in the belt too. “I’m going to show you what it’s like to want something and not be able to have it. I’m going to teach your spoiled, privileged ass how much better things are when you’ve had to hurt for them first.”

His pupils widen and his cheeks turn pink. With both of his hands bound, I yank on the loose end of the belt, forcing him to awkwardly worm his way up the bed, pushing with his feet, doing his best to scramble fast enough to keep up with me. I slip the end between the posts of the headboard and secure him to it.

Elio tugs at it, testing the strength of his restraints. If he were really trying to get loose, it probably wouldn’t be enough, but it’ll do for tonight’s purposes. I climb off him and take a second to admire the sight of him bound to my bed, horny, helpless. His gun is lying, still strapped into his holster, near the foot of the bed. If I wanted him dead, it would be the easiest thing in the world. He must know that too, but he let me tie him up anyway.

The life and death stakes of his trust adds an addictive sweetness to his submission that sears its way through my veins and rearranges things inside of me. Things that were probably better left where they were, but can’t be pushed back now that they’ve shifted. I palm my cock through my sweatpants and imagine a world where Elio isn’t who he is, a world where he’s just a man who’s hungry for my violence without all the other complications.

“Okay, I’m desperate, can you do something now?” he pants.

I smirk, then run my tongue over my teeth with a tut.

“You don’t know the meaning of desperate yet.” I let go of my cock and lean over him, brushing my lips lightly over the tight, hard nub of his nipple. I flick it with my tongue, savoring the gasp he lets out and the quickening of his breath, then I bite down hard, tugging it roughly between my teeth until he screams before I release it. “But you will,” I promise.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, putting his feet flat on the bed and arching his hips, fucking the air without any relief.

I stand back up and wipe the back of my hand over my lips. Then, I start to gather up his scattered clothes, taking my time folding each item and placing them on top of my dresser. I take care with his gun, setting it on top of everything else. The creak of my bedsprings and the moody little huffs he lets out every so often only convince me to move slower, not just picking up his clothes, but leisurely tidying the small space as if I don’t have a mob boss tied to my bed.

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