Chapter 51 Show Me How Much You Mean It
Cedric's POV
Gianni didn't move at first. His fingers stayed locked in Cedric’s hair, that iron grip holding him exactly where he wanted face pressed against him, breath coming hot and ragged through the fabric of his slacks.
Cedric could feel him hardening beneath his lips, the heat of him pulsing like a promise or maybe a threat, and his stomach twisted with a sick combination of revulsion and want.
He hated him. God, he hated him so much it burned in his chest like acid. His bullshit barged straight into his life and turned it all upside down.
He hated him for Maria's missing fingers, for Luca getting beaten downstairs right now, and Dante... who knew wat would happen to him, for turning him into this desperate thing on his knees willing to degrade himself for scraps of his mercy.
But here he was anyway, pressing open-mouthed kisses against expensive fabric, offering himself up like some kind of sacrifice.
Because if he didn't, what in God’s name would the sick beast do to him or the rest of them? And if Dante really was connected to Marcus, if that "M" in the note actually meant what Cedric thought it meant, then he absolutely could not let Gianni destroy that connection. Not when everything else had already crumbled to dust in his hands.
Finally, Gianni's grip loosened just a fraction, enough to tilt Cedric’s head back so he had no choice but to look up at him. His eyes were dark, unreadable pools that reflected nothing back, but that smile, that smile was all predator. As if he'd just won some game Cedric didn't even know they were playing.
"Alright. I believe you.” He murmured, his burning gaze on Cedric.
Cedric blinked in surprise, holding his breath. Wait? What?
Sure, everyone kept telling him about how Gianni was beginning to develop a soft spot for him or some other bullshit like that, but he still couldn’t believe it.
How the hell did he just convince him to—
“Or I would believe you. If only every single word that comes out of that beautiful mouth of yours wasn’t a complete lie," he murmured, his thumb tracing the edge of Cedric’s jaw with something that might have been tenderness if it came from anyone else.
Cedric shut his eyes, half from terror and half from pure exhaustion. He knew he was fucked.
"Foolish little man, is this how you planned to deal with my temper? By offering yourself up like a whore?"
Gianni half-growled, that same unnerving intense look in his eyes, the kind that made Cedric feel like he was being stripped naked.
The word stung, but Cedric swallowed it down because after all, it was true. He forced his voice to stay steady even though his heart was trying to punch through his ribs.
"If that's what it takes. Yeah. I'll be whatever you want me to be tonight. Just... call it off. You don’t need to take this any further. Please."
He made a low sound in his throat, not quite a laugh but close. "You're bargaining now? How bold."
His free hand moved to his belt, the buckle clicking open with deliberate slowness that made every nerve in Cedric’s body stand at attention. "But you don't get to set any terms here, tesoro. Not after everything you've done.”
His fingers worked the zipper, and Cedric heard the soft rasp of metal teeth parting. "Still," he continued, "I'll consider showing mercy. If you can prove how sorry you really are."
Cedric wasn’t stupid, not for the most part anyway, so he knew a lie when he heard it. Especially since he was so good at telling lies himself.
But what other option was there? He simply nodded, his mouth dry, pulse hammering so hard he could feel it in his temples. "I am. I swear I am."
A lie for a lie for a lie. Two men, each one as stubborn and incapable of honesty as the other, caught in a constant game of give and take that left them both wanting and unsatisfied.
It was like they were made for each other, about to crash and burn, then bring the whole world down in flames.
"Then prove it." Gianni freed himself with efficient movements, and Cedric didn't hesitate couldn't afford to.
He leaned in and took his hot, hard impossible length into his mouth as deep as he could take it, the salt and heat of him filling his senses completely.
It was humiliating and degrading and everything that made him swear over and over again to get out of sex work before he would get broke again and ultimately come crawling back.
But that familiar spark of arousal flared anyway, twisting the hate into something newer and sharper and more confusing.
His body responded even as his mind screamed that this was wrong, that he should bite down and run, that this man had mutilated someone mere hours ago.
Who knew just how many lives those hands in his hair had ended?
But why? Why did he have to feel so damn good? Why did his body crave this surrender, to his secrets and that animalistic, possessive nature of his?
Gianni groaned softly above him, his fingers tightening around the back of his neck, guiding him deeper still. "That's it," he breathed. "Show me how much you mean it."
Fuck. This was going to be a long night.