Chapter 4 A MISTAKE UNDER THE MOONLIGHT
DALLA
There was one thing Tobias was a perfectionist on, and it was taking orders.
Due to his past training in the military and the training he’d undergone in the Syndicate, Tobias never failed when it came to taking an order.
Silas Mulvaney had just one order.
“Take Dalla to the Safe house and keep him Safe till I call you.”
From the cemetery, he drove straight to the Safe house.
The safe house was a concrete fortress buried in the hills. It was cold, clean, and quiet.
Ever since they arrived, Dalla couldn't sleep. The image of Tobias in the rain, covered in blood, was burned into his head.
Every time he closed his eyes, he felt the ghost of those bloody fingers on his skin. He was still very hard. A low, aching throb that wouldn't go away.
He needed a drink. A form of distraction. Something to take his mind off Tobias.
He crept out of his room at 3:00 AM, his bare feet silent on the cold tile. The house was pitch black and silent.
He made his way to the kitchen, reaching for a bottle of vodka on the counter.
Before his fingers could touch the glass, the world shook.
A massive weight slammed into his back, pinning him face-first against the stainless steel refrigerator. A forearm crushed into his throat, cutting off his air.
"Who are you!" a voice growled in his ear.
Tobias.
He was shirtless, wearing only a pair of grey Joggers.
His body was a map of scars and hard muscle. It looked like art paired together.
Under the moonlight, through the window, he looked lethal.
"It's... me... Slate..." Dalla wheezed.
The pressure vanished instantly. Tobias stepped back, his chest heaving, giving Dalla Space to breathe.
He was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, his eyes wild with the remnants of a nightmare or a hair-trigger reflex.
"Dalla," Tobias breathed, his voice a low vibration.
"I told you to stay in your room," Tobias spoke softly.
"I wanted a drink," Dalla rasped, rubbing his throat.
He looked at Tobias—really looked at him. The man was magnificent.
His abs were unlike anything he'd ever seen. He had seen the men in the house Train, but none of them looked like this man. His shoulders looked broad enough to carry the world.
The close proximity snapped something in Dalla.
He didn't move away. He had let his thoughts about Tobias lead him.
He stepped closer, until he was pressing his chest against Tobias’s bare skin.
"You're jumpy," Dalla whispered.
"I'm doing my job."
"Is this part of the job?" Dalla reached down and grabbed Tobias’s hand, placing it on his neck again. “Or is grabbing me like you want to Fuck me from behind part of your job?”
Tobias let out a sound that was half-groan, half-growl. He tried to pull away, but Dalla hooked a leg around his, pinning him.
"I saw the way you looked at me in the cemetery. You liked that I was watching. You liked that it made me hard."
"You don't know what you're talking about," Tobias said, but his voice was breaking.
"Then show me I'm wrong." Dalla edged
Dalla shifted his hips, grinding his erection directly against Tobias’s thigh.
“Follow your thoughts,” Dalla whispered, biting the tip of Tobias’s ear.
Tobias snapped.
He grabbed Dalla by the back of the neck and forced him down.
"You want to play the whore, Dalla? You think this is a fucking game?” Tobias growled, his voice low and dangerous
“Coward,” Dalla whispered, Daring Tobias intentionally.
Tobias didn’t answer with words.
He yanked his zipper down and pulled out his heavy, already hardening cock.
It was thick with a slight upward curve and veins running along it. The tip glistened with precum as he stroked himself right in front of Dalla, holding eye contact with him.
“On your knees,” Tobias ordered.
When Dalla hesitated for half a second, just to be a brat, Tobias tightened the grip on his throat and pushed him down.
Dalla dropped to his knees on the hard marble, coming eye-level with the massive cock bobbing in front of him.
“Open.”
Dalla parted his lips, still trying to look cocky, but Tobias couldn't wait.
He gripped the back of Dalla’s head with one hand and thrusted forward past his plush lips and straight into the wet heat of his mouth.
“Fuck—” Tobias groaned as the heat enveloped him.
He didn’t ease in, nor did he give Dalla time to adjust.
He pushed deeper, the fat head of his cock hitting the back of Dalla’s throat on the very first thrust.
Dalla’s eyes opened wide, a wet gag sound ripping from his throat as the thick cock stretched his lips.
Tobias held him there, buried halfway, feeling the tight, convulsing muscles of Dalla’s throat around the head of his cock.
“Choke on it.”
Dalla’s hands pressed up to Tobias’s thighs, pushing weakly as his throat started getting tired.
Wet, throaty, choking sounds filled the room, as thick strings of saliva began to spill from the corners of his mouth, dripping down his chin.
His eyes watered instantly as tears clung to dark lashes, and he struggled to breathe around the brutal thrust.
Tobias pulled back just enough to let Dalla suck in a desperate, wheezing breath, only to slam back in harder, forcing another inch down his throat.
The muscle at the entrance of Dalla’s throat gave way with a wet pop, and Tobias groaned deeply as he felt himself sink deeper, the head of his cock bullying its way into the passage.
“Fuck, your throat is tight,” Tobias hissed, his hips snapping forward in short, ruthless thrusts.
“All that teasing and you can’t even take half of my cock without choking like a virgin,” Tobias growled.
Dalla was a mess already.
His throat was bulging visibly with every thrust, the thick saliva mixed with pre cum pouring freely down his chin and onto the expensive shirt he wore.
Every time Tobias drove in, a wet gluck-gluck-gluck echoed, followed by violent gagging and choking noises as Dalla’s body took in the thick cock violating his throat.
His chest heaved, trying to cough around the cock, but Tobias didn’t let him.
If he wanted to be a brat, he was going to show him how brats were treated.
“Fuck.” Tobias moaned.
Tears streamed down Dalla’s flushed face now, mixed with the mess of the spit.
Tobias groaned louder as he fucked his face harder.
“You wanted this right?” Tobias growled, both hands now gripping Dalla’s head as he used his mouth like a toy.
“Teasing me with that pretty mouth every day. Now you’re gonna take every fucking inch until you learn respect.”
“To…”Dalla cried.
“It's Tobias. Now moan properly.”
Dalla’s body jerked violently, his throat making a wet, broken choking sound as he struggled, completely unable to breathe.
His hands slapped weakly at Tobias’s thighs, nails digging in.
Only when Dalla’s vision started to blur did Tobias finally pull back, letting his thick, already red cock slide out of Dalla’s throat with a long, string of thick saliva connecting it to Dalla’s gasping, coughing lips.
Dalla sucked in ragged and desperate breaths, coughing harshly, drool and precum dripping from his chin onto the floor.
His voice was hoarse, and when he finally managed a weak, shaky taunt.
“Is… is that all you’ve got?”
Tobias’s eyes darkened.
He moved towards Dalla, using his hand to open his already swollen lips.
He stroked his cock twice, letting his cum drip into Dalla’s mouth, intentionally pouring some on his face.
He looked down at him, and for the first time, Dalla saw true horror in the man’s eyes.
Without a word, Tobias tucked himself away and walked out of the kitchen, his footsteps heavy.
Dalla stayed on the floor for a long time, the taste of Tobias lingering on his tongue.
He felt a strange mix of triumph and a soul-deep ache. He stood up, managing his bruised and abused throat, and walked to his room, picking up his laptop to avoid going back to Tobias's room to finish what they started.
He wanted to shower first, but he saw the driver again, lying on his bed.
He plugged in the flash drive, watching the video. The video started. It was a grainy black-and-white surveillance from a back alley behind The Pit.
He saw his brother, Liam, walking toward a car.
A man stepped out of the shadows to meet him. Dalla’s breath hitched. It was the consigliere—his father’s right hand.
They talked for a moment and for some reason, Liam pushed the consigliere and tried to walk away.
Then, the consigliere stepped aside as Multiple men, emerging from the darkness surrounded him.
They didn't hesitate. They shot Liam in the back of the head.
But it wasn't the hit that made Dalla’s blood turn to ice.
It was the man who walked into the frame after the shooting, handing something that looked like an envelope to the consigliere
The man who looked directly into the camera before smashing it.
Tobias Slate.
