Page 40 of Darkness and Duress

With a brilliant, carefree laugh, Bran fumbled opening the bottle as I stood staring in dumbstruck awe. There were a millionthoughts racing through my head, so many I couldn't catch even a single one for more than a few seconds. All the scattered thoughts coalesced into one obsession as soon as he finagled his pants over his hips, squirted a hefty dollop of lube onto his fingers, and reached behind himself. My hand instantly flew to my groin to palm my throbbing dick through my pants.

“Someone’s excited, huh?” His taunting words and sultry voice sent a shiver coursing down my spine and forced my body to move. I was on him in a flash. My hands grabbed his head, angled it back, and pulled it closer as my lips reconnected with his in another kiss full of fervor and a need so desperate, I didn't know how I would survive. I didn’t know how I'd survived this long without him.

I stifled a groan as his hand reappeared, jerking at my jeans and belt until he hand both open. I gasped and groaned again as cold lube hit my burning hot dick, and the sound that came out of me once his hand wrapped around the length was neither groan nor gasp, but somehow both at the same time. I was already dancing on a hair trigger and I hadn't even felt his body coiled tight around me yet. Bran tore our mouths apart with a gasp, working my cock harder and faster as he did.

“Marc, it's a yes. I want you. I want this. And I want it rough. Got it?” His eyes darted over my face—his lust-drunk gaze, flushed cheeks, and kiss-swollen lips would be my undoing.

“Yeah… turn around…” I sucked my teeth to stifle another groan as he spun on a dime, his hands flying to the wall as the lube fell to the ground. The second he arched his back and the low light illuminated the smooth globes of his ass, I was done. There was no going back from this and I couldn't find a single fuck to give about that fact.

He leaned into my touch as my trembling hands coasted over the warm skin, kneading and spreading him wide. I'd never considered a man’s body attractive the way I did Bran’s.Something about him, something uniquely him, had burrowed into my brain and I was obsessed. All I could think was “mine” as I shifted one hand to steady the base of my cock and notched the head against his glistening, puckered hole.

“Make it hurt, baby. Make it hurt so good.”

“Shut up,” I muttered through grit teeth, pushing forward against the supple yet unyielding ring of muscle. I was already a breath away from coming. Dirty talk would leave me with an embarrassingly short performance period. Naturally, he didn't listen.

“Fuck, yes. Marc, fuck me like you hate me.” He pushed back against me, his palms splayed on the wall, and I swore under my breath as the pressure around my dick became damn near lethal with every slow inch that sank into his tight heat.

Bran shuddered from head-to-toe, a sinful groan falling from his lips once I was fully seated. It was everything and yet not enough. I pressed one palm against his lower stomach and settled the second under his chin, needing him closer despite the fact that we were already as close as two people could possibly be. With his body pulled tight against mine, I rocked my hips back and thrust forward. His grunt ignited wildfires in my core—my need for him became a primal, feral thing that grew in size until I could only concentrate on the impossible clench of him around my cock and the way his pulse raced under my palm.

Another snap of my hips had him grunting and his fingernails going white as he clung to the brick wall. I needed more of that sound. I needed all his sounds. Slow and steady snaps gradually became harder thrusts, each one of them fusing us back together until I couldn't figure out where I started and he ended. There was just us, a fusion of madness and passion and dirty, raunchy need that we could only satisfy like this. I hadn't even finished fucking him and I was already hungry for the next time I could have him.

Bran’s hand slid from the wall, pushing my palm lower over his stomach as he arched his back even deeper with a wanton groan. Breathy pleas fell from his lips. “Please. Please, Marc?”

It took me a second to realize what he wanted. What he needed. With a growling groan, I doubled my efforts while wrapping my hand around his cock. God, he was so hard. Never had I ever willingly touched another man’s dick before. Now, with him? I needed it. I craved it. I stroked him as rough and recklessly as I fucked his ass and reveled in every whimper and whine it brought to his lips. I fucked him like I wanted to break him in half with my cock, all the while holding him together in my arms as if I could keep it from happening by sheer force alone.

His body grew taut, his cries became strained, and with a full-body spasm, he came over my fist. The force of his orgasm made his ass constrict around my cock, and I grew incensed by it. Harder, deeper, wilder, I fucked him through his climax as I chased my own until that blissful, beautiful euphoria crashed through my body and whited out my vision. My teeth bit down on the sweat-soaked skin of his neck as I muffled a groan, my balls drawing up and my body tensing as my cock throbbed and pulsed, flooding him with my cum. Another thrust, another moan, and then the most powerful sense of serenity washed over me as I cling to his panting, trembling body.

With my cock buried deep in the body of a man I once loathed and now couldn't lose, my heart thump-thumping in time with the beat of his, I found my lighthouse in the storm. The light at the end of the tunnel. No matter what happened with my family, my legacy, me… one thing became apparent—none of it mattered unless I could share it with him. My grip loosened and I mourned the disconnect as my softening dick slid from his ass, but one thing remained true above all others. Brandon was mine. Brandon was mine and I would never, ever let him go.

Chapter Twenty

Henny

Life was pretty damn good. And by good, I meant great. Our clandestine union in the darkness of an empty gas station parking lot had awoken something in my surly, sad panda. Something I was all too happy to indulge. Formerly reticent and reluctant and full of rage, my Marco was now a downright possessive prick with an insatiable appetite for wild sex. My inner slut was loving every Goddamn second of it.

I had no complaints whatsoever. Waking up every morning to ride his cock was the highlight of my day. Being fucked through the mattress before we passed out together was the pinnacle of every night. Marco d’Ambrosio might not have been gay, but whatever label he did or didn't choose, my gay heart was more than happy to be the partner of. Ten out of ten, best life ever.

Granted, it wasn't entirely sunshine and roses. That didn't surprise me in the least. For as cocksure and confident as I was, I knew my ass held no magical healing powers when it came to his struggles with mental health and the increasingly complicated mess of his family. He put on a good show, though. It guttedme every time I saw through his bullshit. Which was every time. He had a penchant for masking his lows with anger. Equally, his brief moments of relief from the grips of his depression left him uncertain and downright clingy, as if he could somehow hold on to the feeling by refusing to let me out of his sight.

Therein laid the only issue that caused us some concern for me. Marco’s family had taken the hint—he wanted space from them and the stress his father was drowning in, so they'd all fucked off with the exception of Luca and Nico. Unfortunately, I was not a free agent who could come and go as he pleased. For as much as I deluded myself into thinking I was part of the d’Ambrosio family, at the end of the day, I was just another body on the roster and I'd taken it upon myself to keep tying up loose strings and handling responsibilities in Marco’s stead. Well, technically, I was pretending to be the go-between for Marco and Damiano. Neither of them knew, but fuck it. I'd help however I could, especially if it took some of the burden of Marco’s already heavy load.

One such burden came in the form of a very bulky envelope containing a fuck ton of cash and an index card with an address and time on it. There was only one thing that would require that much cash and while I might have previously been ready to dive in head first without a care in the world for the risks, I didn't quite feel the same desire to be reckless or unbothered. Arms dealing was in a whole other ballpark from the small shit I typically handled. Arms dealing without a trusted crew was in a different category altogether.

I stared at the envelope in my lap as I sat in the car on the street outside my apartment. Jericho needed to hurry the fuck up because I sure as shit wasn't having this conversation with him while Marco was in earshot. Naturally, the fucker was running late and I honestly didn't have the time. My eyes darted to the time on the dash and back toward the envelope four moretimes before Jer’s Nissan finally came tearing down the street. I flashed the headlights at him and rolled down the window as he slipped the car into a parking spot and climbed out with a scowl. Seems like Marco and I weren't the only ones struggling with shit we never talked about.

“Hey, what’s up?” Jericho’s arms folded over the door of the SUV as he leaned through the open window. Dark circles under his eyes and a visible strain in his posture gave me pause, but the time on the clock in my peripheral vision didn't allow me the opportunity to press the matter.

“Hop in. There's a job. The Jersey Docks job.” I tapped the envelope on my lap and watched his eyes dip down and back up with another scowl.

“The guns?”

“Yep. Damiano wants them delivered to the distributors by midnight. The shit’s waiting in Jersey. I'm supposed to be there in less than an hour.”

“And what about Marco? Why isn't he—”

“It's complicated, alright? Just get in.” I rocked my head back and let it hit the headrest with a sigh. “Please?”

“Nah, man. Look… I get it. I know you're trying to play knight in shining armor and get in good with the family, but we aren't rolling up on a fucking Moretti shipping yard at night with just our good looks to pull us through. We did that shit already and it almost got us locked the fuck up.”

---