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There was something about Ollie Petrov that had managed to pierce through the armor that he'd spent years building around himself.
He'd spent all these years free and independent, using the world as his plaything--but now he felt the urge to protect.
He could still remember the feel of Ollie's lips on him, the heady mix of fear, defiance, and desire that had colored their heated exchange.
And, god help him, he wanted more. Wanted to explore every inch of Ollie's body, to make him moan and beg and cry out in pleasure, even as he taught him the true meaning of submission.
"Fuck!" Toro cursed under his breath, feeling the heat of his desire building inside him once more. He knew that he was playing with fire, that indulging these fantasies would only serve to undermine his authority and jeopardize their mission.
He was going to get the ransom money from Al Petrov, and then he was going to hand over the kid and be done with him for good.
But there was a part of him--a maddening, insistent voice deep within his soul--that whispered:
What if...?
Chapter four
Ithadbeentwodays since Ollie had been kidnapped.
And his father hadn't got in contact once.
"Hey, Toro," Ollie said, his voice barely a whisper as he lay on the cold floor of the dimly lit room where he was being held captive. His hands were bound, his ankles tied together, and every muscle in his body ached from the ordeal. "Mind if I ask you something?"
Toro, who had been leaning against the far wall with his arms crossed, looked down at Ollie with disdain. "What do you want?" he asked gruffly.
Ollie hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Why are you doing this? Aren't you worried about what people might think of you? You know, like… that you're gay or something?"
At first, Toro's face appeared to harden even more, if that was possible. But then, slowly, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "If you're trying to psych me out, think again."
"Seriously though," Ollie persisted. "I mean, isn't it weird for a big, tough mafia guy like you to be doing… things like this to other guys?"
Toro sighed and pushed himself off the wall, stalking towards Ollie with slow, deliberate steps. He crouched down beside him, his dark eyes boring into Ollie's. "I fuck men. And I do itwell."
A thrum of adrenaline ran through Ollie's exhausted body. He tried to hide it behind humor. "Bragging isn't a good look."
"Heh." Toro flashed him a grin. "It took me a long while to figure this shit out," he admitted. "People wanted me to fuck men up, not fuck them. Y'know, plenty of dipshits out there thought that I couldn't be both strong and gay."
"Really?" Ollie asked, genuinely surprised by Toro's honesty. He shifted uncomfortably. "What did you do?"
"What else?" Toro said, beaming. "I beat their asses until they had no choice but to work with me."
Ollie couldn't help but chuckle, even though his heart sank. "I thought it'd be something like that. But… even in the mafia?"
"Especially in the mafia," Toro replied. "Turns out, I'm not the only one with secrets."
"Secrets, huh?" Ollie murmured, feeling a strange sense of connection with this man who held his life in his hands. "I know something about that."
"Is that right?" Toro raised an eyebrow, his expression equal parts curious and skeptical. "And what kind of secrets would a pretty boy like you be hiding?"
Stuff I can't tell anyone.
But what was the point of hiding anything anymore?
"My father…" Ollie replied, swallowing hard as he felt a surge of emotion rise within him. ".. he has these expectations for me. To follow in my brothers' footsteps, to help run the family business. But I don't want any of it." His voice cracked, betraying his vulnerability.
"Ah, expectations. So, what do you really want?"
No-one had ever asked Ollie that. "Freedom," he whispered, barely audible. "The freedom to choose my own path, to… to love who I want to love, without fear or judgment."
