Fucking Mr. Charming

Luca Mariani POV

"Oh God," I stammered, my face heating.

"That's not— I mean, you have every right to be upset, and I... I couldn't help being attracted to you, okay? But this isn't right. I didn't mean to. I didn't mean—"

Alessandro's breath hitched, but instead of pulling away, he searched my face, tears still tracking down his cheeks. As I stared into his eyes, scared of his next line of action. However, something shifted in them; desperation, maybe, or defiance.

Then he leaned in closer, hand deliberately pressing against me now, feeling the heat through the fabric.

"What are you doing—"

"Don't explain. Just... take me. Make him disappear."

"Alessandro, you don't—"

Before I could protest, his lips crashed into mine, fierce and salty from tears. I groaned, resistance crumbling as I kissed him back, tongue sliding against his in a hungry tangle. My hands roamed his body, gripping his shoulders, his waist, pulling him closer while he fumbled with my zipper, freeing my cock which was already thick and throbbing, pre-cum slicking the tip.

"Fuck, Luca," he whispered, stroking me firmly, base to head. I hissed, hips bucking into his grip.

He climbed over the console, straddling me, thighs bracketing mine. His hands braced against my chest as he guided me to his entrance, slowly sinking down, taking me inch by inch with a sharp exhale. "God... you're—"

I gripped his hips hard, jaw clenched, thrusting up to meet him. The car rocked with our rhythm, windows steaming as rain drummed harder outside. My mouth found his neck, teeth grazing his skin, one hand sliding between us.

"Move," I growled, voice rough.

He did with his head dropping back, moving fast, moans spilling out between ragged breaths. His hands clawed at my shirt, desperate and urgent, the sounds of rain and us filling the small space entirely.

His body tightened around me, shuddering. I drove deeper, the wet heat of him pulling me over the edge with a guttural groan as I spilled inside him, forehead dropping to his shoulder.

My hands slid up his thighs, gripping the sweat-slicked skin as I stayed buried deep inside him, feeling every pulse and tremor. "Not yet," I murmured against his throat, and a shiver ran through him.

I shifted, pressing him back against the steering wheel, the horn letting out a short blare that made him gasp. "Close your eyes," I ordered, voice low and commanding.

Alessandro obeyed immediately, lashes fluttering shut against his tear-stained cheeks. His chest heaved, still slick with sweat, lips parted and wet.

"Who do you see?" I asked, thrusting up slowly, deliberately, watching his face contort.

"N-Nico..." he breathed, voice cracking. "He's... he's with her. That blonde woman. He's fucking her, Luca—I can see it, I can see everything—"

"Open your eyes."

He did, dazed and vulnerable, tears fresh on his cheeks.

"Look at me," I said, gripping his chin, forcing his gaze to meet mine. "I'm going to fuck you so hard, so deep, that by the time I'm done, there won't be room in that pretty head for anyone else. You'll only see me. You'll only scream my name. Understood?"

He nodded, swallowing hard, pupils blown wide.

"Good boy."

I pulled out slowly, watching his hole clench around nothing, then flipped him around, bending him over the passenger seat. His ass pressed against my cock, already slick from before, and I lined up, not giving him a second to prepare. I thrust in with one brutal, deep stroke, all the way to the hilt, and Alessandro screamed, back arching, fingers clawing at the leather seat.

"Yes—fuck, yes, Luca!"

"That's it," I growled, fucking into him with sharp, punishing rhythm, each thrust hitting deeper than the last. "Say my name again."

"Luca! Oh god, Luca…harder, please, harder! Don't stopppp!!"

My balls slapped against his skin, the sound obscene and wet, mixing with his desperate moans and the rain hammering the roof. I grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back, mouth against his ear as I pistoned into him.

"Who's fucking you now, Alessandro? Who's making you feel this good?"

"You! Only you, Luca—fuck, yes, right there—don't stop, please don't stop—"

"Whose name are you going to remember when you come?"

"Yours!" He was sobbing now, tears and drool smearing across the leather. "Luca, Luca, Luca—I'm gonna—"

"Come for me," I grunted, slamming into him one last time, feeling his body clench and spasm around my cock as he screamed my name, raw and broken, his release painting the seat beneath him.

I kept fucking him through it, chasing my own end, riding his trembling, oversensitive body until I buried myself as deep as I could, groaning as I emptied into him, ropes of cum filling him hot and thick.

We stayed there, panting, the rain the only sound as I slowly pulled out, watching my seed leak from his red, used hole. He collapsed against the seat, limp and shaking, but when I turned him over, his eyes were hazy, dreamy and his lips curved into a dazed smile.

"Who do you see now?" I asked, brushing damp hair from his forehead.

Alessandro blinked, focusing on my face, and whispered, "Just you, Luca. Only you.”

“Good boy. Be a slut for me.” 

Panting, he collapsed against my chest, body limp. I held him, heart pounding, until his breathing evened out into sleep. Gently, I eased him back to the seat, straightening his clothes, then drove to my apartment.

We arrived at my apartment by 11pm. A modest second-floor walk-up in a quiet neighborhood, its bricks weathered by years of Midwest winters.

I carried him inside, clicking the door shut behind us. My living room was sparse: a worn leather couch, a coffee table stacked with auto magazines, a window overlooking the street where leaves rustled in the breeze. I laid him in my bed, pulling the quilt over him, and crashed on the couch, mind racing with the night's whirlwind.

{—}

I woke up very early, as early as when morning light filtered through the blinds and birds were chirping outside. My head was a bit fuzzy but determined, I made for the kitchen with its scuffed linoleum floors and the old coffee maker on the counter. 

I brewed coffee, scrambled eggs with peppers and toasted sourdough. The sizzle of bacon filled the air, savory and comforting as steam rose from the pan.

Alessandro stirred when the smell reached him, padding out in my oversized t-shirt, hair tousled from yesterday, eyes puffy but clearer. He leaned against the doorframe, watching me plate the food with quiet focus.

"Good morning. Didn't notice you were there." I said, but all he could manage was a small smile.

I set the coffee on the small table by the window, where a potted fern caught the rays, and poured his coffee black.

"Eat," I said softly, sliding a chair out for him. He sat, fork piercing the eggs, the first bite bringing a quiet sigh. We ate without words at first, only the clink of utensils making a gentle rhythm while sunlight played across his face as he relaxed inch by inch.

After, as he pushed his plate away, I rubbed my neck, gaze dropping. "About last night... in the car. I took advantage. You were hurting. I'm sorry."

He reached across, fingers light on my wrist. "No. It was me who started it. And... It helped. You saved me, Luca. From those guys, from drowning in it all."

His eyes held mine, soft with unspoken thanks, a faint smile curving his lips as he squeezed my hand. "Friends? I don't know… I could use someone real right now."

“Friends?”

I nodded, warmth spreading through me at the trust in his touch. "Friends. Whatever you need."