Page 29 of Beautifully Savage Butterfly

“Would you do it if I were someone else?” I already know the answer. Maybe Elio is right and the Morettis are Godzilla protecting this city from Mothra, but they’re still fucking mobsters.

“Probably,” he admits, and I grunt, shoving him harder up against the building.

“I earn my own way. I’m going to do the job for you, and you’re going to pay me,” I say firmly.

The submissive expression I’ve gotten used to seeing on his face hardens into something defiant. “I’m not the devil, Orion. You see this job as selling your soul, but I’m not in the market for it.”

His insistence is a surprise. He asked me here to convince me to do a job for him, and I’m agreeing. Now he’s trying to talk me out of it? If I didn’t know any better, I might think this bratty mob boss is soft deep down.

I lean in closer, bumping my nose against his, and the rebellion melts away. His lips soften and he lets out a trembling sigh, his cock hardening between us. If there’s one thing life has taught me, it’s that nothing is ever guaranteed. The ground can shift under your feet in the blink of an eye and leave you scrambling to stay upright. Elio’s predictable reaction to me is a counterbalance to the disorder that I didn’t know I needed.

“An underground fight or a criminal off the streets, is there really much difference in who gets roughed up? Hell, it might be the same damn person for all I know. I’m taking the job. We’re done arguing about this.”

He bobbles his head with a nod, knocking his forehead against mine.

“Alright, Boss.”

“Good boy,” I mutter, lunging forward to catch his lips in a hard, biting kiss. I can taste the cheap Scotch in his mouth, and something much sweeter lingering underneath. Just like yesterday, he gives in to the demand of my mouth the same way he’s given in to all of my other rough touches.

Elio’s tongue is hot and pliant, vibrating with a sigh as I stroke it with mine. My cock swells and throbs, all the tension from today pooling heavily between my legs and coiling around my muscles.

I break the kiss and he sucks in a ragged breath, his eyes shining in the moonlight and his lips glistening. Hunger gnaws at my insides, along with mounting adrenaline and a desperate need to find a way to control the chaos swirling around me. To be the chaos for just a little while.

“Run, Brat.” My voice is full of gravel, and Elio blinks as I let go of him and take a step back without warning. He stumbles, then looks at me like a startled rabbit.

“What?” He rights himself, an excited blush already rising in his cheeks, even though he doesn’t seem to understand the game yet.

“Run,” I repeat, adding an extra growl of menace this time.

“What happens when you catch me?” he asks, already taking a backward step away from me, towards the alleyway that snakes between a long row of buildings.

“If you don’t run fast enough, you’ll find out.”

Chapter 13

ELIO

All I can hear is the ragged sound of my own breathing and the crunch of gravel under my Louboutin Oxfords as I sprint down the alleyway. The buildings are too tall to let much light filter into the space between them, other than the stray glow from the few windows that overlook the dumpsters and loading bays. My eyes manage to adjust anyway, pulling in just enough light in the darkness to make out the shape of a scrawny cat that darts out of a trash bin and sprints in the opposite direction.

I can taste the lingering flavor of Orion’s mouth on mine, the growl of the word run echoing in my brain—a command, and a threat… The best kind of foreplay. The buildings part and I see the mouth of another street only a handful of yards ahead. My heart is pounding wildly, all my animal instincts telling me to run faster, spurring me away from the danger closing in behind me. It doesn’t matter that I want to be caught, that my cock is hard and my balls are heavy, that my skin is tingling and desperate to be marked up with more bruises in the shape of his fingers and teeth. Something primal deep inside my brain ignores all of that, chanting a frantic drumbeat of faster and flee and go, go, go.

I can’t hear his footsteps over the rush of blood in my ears, but I know he’s close, and getting closer. I know in my bones, even without looking over my shoulder or pausing to listen for him, that Orion is eating up the distance between us with ease. I’ve never bothered to think much about the pinch of my shoes around my toes or the lack of traction on the smooth soles, meant for clicking impressively against marble floors and polished hardwood, not scrambling down filthy back streets paved with loose gravel. I’ve never chased anyone and I’ve sure as hell never run from anyone, so this is the first time I’ve had any reason to notice how restrictive a suit is in a situation like this. Orion has the right shoes. He has clothes that move with him instead of wrapping around his limbs to restrain him. I’m running on the adrenaline of a gut-deep fear, while he’s spurred on by the thrill of the chase. Hunter and prey, and I’m as desperate to be caught as I am to get away.

I push myself faster, my legs burning with the effort to reach the safe haven of the light up ahead. Cars zoom by and people walk past the gap between the buildings without looking into the darkness. Not just not looking, but actively avoiding turning their heads in my direction. Is it a defense mechanism? Are they afraid of what they might see if they glance down the alleyway? I guess that’s how most people survive, by pretending the ugly parts of life don’t exist as best they can. I’ve never had that luxury, and I don’t think Orion has either.

I stumble over something. A flattened cardboard box maybe? I can’t tell and it doesn’t matter. What matters is that in the split second it takes me to catch myself, Orion closes the last few steps between us. His hand clamps down firmly over my mouth, muffling the instinctive, panicked sound that rises in my throat as his other arm snakes around my midsection. He’s not a huge man with muscles for days, but after seeing him fight, it’s no surprise that he knows exactly how to use his body. He’s spent years training, learning how to capitalize on his strengths and overpower someone with ease.

In one swift movement, Orion presses me up against the side of the building, the rough brick biting into my hands when I put them up to brace myself. His body flattens against mine, his chest to my back, both rising and falling with the heavy breaths we gulp down, the hard shape of his erection finding its way into the crease of my ass. Heat radiates off of him, the smell of cheap whiskey and even cheaper soap filling my nose and overpowering the stink of the alley.

I part my lips and flick my tongue against the palm of his hand. He tightens his grip, his fingers biting into my cheek, a growl vibrating against my back. I suck in shallow breaths through my nose, my heart hammering wildly.

“Look what we have here.” His lips brush my earlobe, his hot breath tickling my skin. “A lost brat.” I gasp at the sharp sting of his teeth dragging against my ear and squirm uselessly.

He presses into me harder, pinning me to the wall with nowhere to go and no leverage to fight him off. In this position, I couldn’t even reach my gun if I wanted to. That realization sends an electric thrill down my spine, waking up all my nerve endings with a fresh shot of fear and adrenaline. Orion chuckles, the sound dark and dangerous, punctuated with another sharp bite just below my ear this time.

He scrapes his teeth along the curve of my jaw and grinds his thick erection between my ass cheeks. Even through our clothes, I can feel the heat of it, the eager throb that will flutter and pulse inside me if he’ll just drop the denial bullshit and fuck me.

“Is that what a privileged brat like you is doing in a dark, dangerous alley? Are you looking to get roughed up and fucked?” he murmurs, his low voice full of gravel.

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