Page 33 of Stolen Compliance

Pulling back, I slip my knife into its holster and slip off his lap. We ride the rest of the way in cooling silence, as his breathing gradually returns to normal—a fucking shame.

Before he opens the door to head into the mansion, I remind him one more time.

“Teo’s mine… and soon enough, Luca, you’ll be mine, too. Try to keep yourself alive.”

My soft chuckle follows him as he races inside. And then I sit in the emptiness. For a moment, I’m unsure. Trying to decide whether to head back to the whorehouse and drag Teo out of that fucking whore’s bed or to wait in his room and remind him exactly who carries his leash.

Decisions, decisions… Either way, Teo will remember tonight. Both of these men may have walked into my life not realizing they needed more. But that’s fine. It’s what I’m trained for—and fuck if I’ll stop from claiming them. Even if I’m constrained by rules of my own.

Eventually, logic forces me to accept the need to wait, to let him have his follies. Fuck knows I’ll add it to the scorecard I’m keeping, because he’ll pay me back for each stolen moment away from me. For each transgression I’ll make him beg for forgiveness, for mercy.

Taking a deep breath, I exit to limo, letting the driver know he can get the fuck out of here. It’s an easy trip to Teo’s room, and since I helped develop security, I can move through the mansion without being caught. Loopholes. Every Second’s best friend.

The lock to Teo’s room isn’t worth shit. I pop it within a few precious moments, and then I’m in. I stand there, surrounded by his things, his invisible presence, and fuck, his smell. That combination of rich asshole with the barest undertone of sweet that I haven’t beaten out of him—yet. Fuck, I’m not sure if it’ll ever be possible.

Memories of the last time I was in this room play through my head, and my dick hardens quickly. Fuck, I could live in his damn ass. It’s like it’s made for me. Although, I’m certainly curious what Luca’s must be like now.

Really, the thought of fucking Teo into Luca… now that’s an idea that really turns me on. I cross over to the mini fridge Teo keeps in his room and open it, grabbing a bottle of water. I drain half of it as the memories and thoughts almost choke me with need. It doesn’t do shit to cool me down, and I growl in impatience as the clock ticks along far too slowly.

I prowl the room, each step fanning the frustration and anger higher. That he would dare touch a whore instead of waiting here like a good boy, like the man I fucking own. But I don’t, do I? Because he’s the Boss’s son, and I’ll never be anything but a tool that’s used in this business.

Shaking my head, I push that bullshit away. What the Boss doesn’t know won’t hurt him. And, if anything, I’m keeping his heir in line. Making sure he doesn’t make risky decisions. Because as much as Kari tries, bad people slip through. And what would happen if the heir was hurt?

No, it’s better I keep control. I let my fingers trail across the heavy mahogany furniture. It’s sleek, manly, and expensive. Fitting for Sergio’s son, although lacking in the gold and jewel embellishments his father prefers.

Time continues on. I add more marks to the scorecard. Because fuck if I’ll let him stay out all night. No, this bullshit is coming to an end.

For a moment, I consider cutting up his delicate sheets and pissing on his bed, making him sleep in it all night long. But that would simply make the housekeeping staff gossip, and I have no patience for that.

Instead, I head toward his dresser and pull out a pair of his silk boxers. The kid I found was wearing fucking cotton from a ten-pack of boxers, and now he’s in the very best of everything. But still he walks around like he owns everything.

Perhaps if Sergio raised him properly, from birth, that would be true. But just because his blood runs true, doesn’t mean shit. He’s still from the wrong side, and that’s perfect for me, because it’ll be my fingerprints all over him.

Using one hand, I unbuckle my belt and undo my pants. Freeing my hard cock is easy enough, and as I grip it with the silk from Teo’s boxers, I let the memories take over—and the dream of future fucks. Because I’ll have him under me, panting, begging. I won’t walk away until he admits it. That I own him, that I’m seared into his thoughts. And that even now, everything he does is because of me. I broke him and made him again. It’s a bond that can’t be broken. No matter how many whores he sinks himself into, no matter how far he tries to run. I hold that leash.

My breathing speeds up, and the pleasure finally crests as I start to come, unloading right into his boxers. I make sure to catch it all, wiping my cock with them, even though I wish I was wiping it on his fucking skin.

I shudder, feeling some of the stress I’m carrying dissipate. But fuck, if he’s not back soon, I can’t be held accountable for my actions. I toss the used boxers on the bed and quickly put myself all together again before sitting on the chair in the corner. And then I wait. And fantasize of all the punishments I’ll put the fucker through.

Finally, I hear heavy footsteps in the hallway. Sneering, I stand up, grab the used boxers and hide to the side of the door where I’ll be covered when he opens it. I’m ashamed he’s walking so loudly. I swear to fuck I’ve taught him better. Just one more mark against the asshole…

The door opens violently, and I put my hand up to make sure I’m not crushed. I hear him stumble in, the smell of alcohol-soaked bad decisions hitting me from afar. I cringe at it, but it’s not enough to keep me away from him. It never would be.

I close the door silently, even though he’s only a few feet into the room. It’s only when I’m right behind him that he stiffens, his inner radar for danger finally going off. About fucking time—although far too late.

I’m on him immediately, clamping his mouth shut and pushing him into the wall. He hits it with a heavy bang, but I don’t give a fuck. Any bruises he gets he’s earned. I take the cum-crusted boxers and force them into his mouth, ensuring he can’t scream.

Once that’s done, I turn him around and meet his eyes. Those molten blue eyes, a snarl on his face that merely makes me hard again. He’s the whole damn package and I hate it, as much as I crave it.

Sliding out my knife, I put it to his neck, letting it bite in. He stops struggling immediately. He knows I’ll go too far, and even as he dares me to do so, I refuse.

“Behave, Buttercup. We need to have a conversation.”

I laugh at the muffled sounds from the gag. I’m sure there are some inventive curses being thrown my way, but fuck if I care. Hell, I wonder if I should keep him gagged all the time next time he’s under me. Then again, I do like his screams.

“Fine. A lecture. Either way, shut the fuck up so I can speak.”

He shudders under the force of my demand and stills. I gently run my fingers down his cheek, letting him feel how good we can be, when he just. Fucking. Listens.