Plaything Of The Enemy

"You didn't seem to mind when I pulled the trigger."

"I was in shock."

Damian set the glass down, slow and deliberate. "You were not."

Luca's breath hitched.

Damian stepped closer, stalking him like a panther. "You're angry. That's good. I need you to be angry. But don't lie to me."

He pressed his hand to Luca's chest. Right over his heart.

"You wanted that man to die. And I made it happen."

"You're insane," Luca whispered.

"I'm efficient."

"You killed someone like it meant nothing."

Damian leaned in, lips brushing the shell of Luca's ear.

"You think this world has space for mercy?"

He handed Luca a matte black pistol.

Luca stared at it like it might explode.

"What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Use it," Damian said. "Or keep being prey."

Luca swallowed.

"This was my brother's life?" he asked. "Deals, blood, secrets?"

Damian's eyes darkened. He just stepped close again. "You want revenge? Then step into my world fully. Stop pretending you're clean."

There was a long pause. Luca's fists clenched. His heart wasn't just beating fast, it was slamming, as if it too wanted to escape this twisted, volatile space between them.

Then he snapped.

With a low growl, Luca shoved Damian backward hard until his spine hit the wall with a sharp thud. Damian grunted, his jaw ticking, but his eyes lit up like he'd been waiting for this.

"You're not the only one who can take control," Luca snarled.

Their mouths crashed together in a brutal collision of teeth and spit and fury. It wasn't just a kiss, it was a claim and a challenge. Luca bit down on Damian's lower lip until he tasted blood, then licked it off with a sneer.

"You think I'm just your toy?" Luca whispered against Damian's mouth.

Damian's growl vibrated through both their chests. He grabbed Luca by the throat tight enough to make him gasp and slammed him around, spinning him to face the glass wall of the suite.

Luca's palms hit the cold surface. His breath fogged it.

Damian's body pressed against his from behind, one hand pinning his neck, the other tearing at the belt around Luca's waist with brutal efficiency.

"I don't want obedience," Damian hissed against his ear. "I want resistance. I want to break you piece by piece until the only thing you beg for is me."

The belt slid free with a sharp hiss.

Clothes came next, the shirts shredded, pants shoved down with impatient hands. Damian's mouth was everywhere. Teeth scraping along Luca's shoulder, biting down on his collarbone until Luca moaned angry, raw, involuntary.

"Fucking hate you," Luca spat.

"Good," Damian muttered. "Hate me while I ruin you."

His hand shoved between Luca's legs, rough and possessive. He didn't tease. He took. Palming him, stroking him just enough to make Luca's hips buck. But when Luca tried to gain control tried to grind back Damian stopped altogether.

"Beg."

"Go to hell."

Damian smiled darkly and leaned in. His tongue traced the shell of Luca's ear. "Then I guess you don't want me to fuck you tonight."

Luca's hands curled into fists against the glass. His voice was a whisper-shout. Desperate. Furious.

"You're such a bastard."

"And yet your cock is hard."

A single touch lower now dragging between his thighs, and Luca shuddered. Damian pushed his own pants down enough to free himself, grinding the thick, hot length of him between Luca's cheeks with a promise of what was coming. He spat into his hand, slicked himself quickly, and leaned his weight in slow, threatening.

Damian grabbed him by the jaw, yanked his face to the side, forcing him to look into his eyes.

"Say you want this."

There was venom in Luca's voice. But submission in his body.

"I want it," he hissed.

"Good."

Damian didn't ease in gently.

He pushed inside with one hard, unforgiving thrust, drawing a gasp so loud from Luca it fogged the glass again. Luca's body clenched around him, legs trembling, hands slipping as he tried to hold onto something anything that wasn't Damian.

Damian didn't give him a chance.

He fucked him like he was owned him.

The sound of skin slapping skin echoed through the room, mixing with Luca's ragged groans and Damian's low grunts.

Each thrust was a punishment. A promise and a reminder that Luca was no longer untouched by this world. He was deep in it now being taken by the man who'd torn his life apart.

Damian leaned forward, one hand braced on the glass beside Luca's. The other wrapped around Luca's cock and began stroking in time with his thrusts.

"You're going to come for me, Luca," he growled into his ear. "You're going to come like a whore who's finally found his master."

"F-fuck you-"

"You already are."

Luca tried to fight it. But he was drowning.

In lust. In anger. In Damian's scent and heat and brutal, unrelenting rhythm.

When he came, it was violent. Shaking. He nearly collapsed against the glass as he spilled in Damian's hand, crying out with a sound that was half-curse, half-ecstasy.

But Damian wasn't done.

He pulled out just long enough to flip Luca around, eyes wild, hair damp, chest heaving and shoved him back against the glass. Their eyes locked.

And then Damian was inside him again.

This time, he kissed him possesively while he moved.

Teeth dragging across lips, tongues tangling, hands roaming like he wanted to own every inch of Luca's body from the inside out.

He came with a hiss of Luca's name, burying himself deep, gripping Luca's hip so tightly it would leave bruises. They were shaking, both of them, pressed together, breathless, blood-hot and strung out.

The silence that followed wasn't peaceful.

It was charged.

Damian pulled out slowly, breathing hard, and grabbed a towel to clean them both. When he came back, he tossed Luca's torn shirt over his bare chest.

His legs were still trembling. "Why do I feel like I'm drowning in you?" he whispered hoarsely.

Damian didn't smile.

He walked to the nightstand, opened the drawer, and pulled out what he gave to him on the first night.

Then he answered his question.

"Because you are."