Fire and Steel

The abandoned warehouse reeked of oil, dust, and the lingering copper tang of blood from the fight earlier. Matteo’s jacket was torn at the shoulder, sleeves rolled up, exposing the tattoos that ran like veins of black ink across his arms. He should have been thinking about strategy, reinforcements, the next move.

Instead, his eyes were fixed on Rafael, who leaned casually against a steel beam, chest rising and falling, amber eyes dangerous and sharp. The fire in them matched the fire Matteo felt coiling low in his gut, impossible to ignore.

“De Luca,” Rafael said, voice low, teasing, “you’re quiet. Usually so full of threats.”

Matteo’s lips curled, a dangerous smirk of his own forming. “I’m conserving my energy. For you.”

Rafael’s smirk widened. “For me?” He stepped closer, deliberately slow, every motion dripping challenge. “I didn’t realize we’d moved past enemies to… something else.”

Matteo’s patience snapped. He grabbed Rafael by the collar and slammed him against the steel beam, lips crashing into his in a feral, possessive kiss. Rafael didn’t resist—instead, he leaned into Matteo, teeth grazing the bottom lip, teasing, daring.

Hands roamed recklessly. Matteo’s fingers tangled in Rafael’s hair, pulling him closer, pressing his body against the lean heat of him. Rafael’s hands didn’t just wander—they gripped, held, claimed, tracing the line of Matteo’s abs through the fabric of his shirt.

Rafael whispered against Matteo’s ear, hot and sharp: “You’ve wanted this since the alley, haven’t you?”

Matteo growled, gripping the back of Rafael’s neck and pressing his body closer. “Shut up. Or I’ll show you.”

No more teasing. No more words. Matteo’s hands moved down, exploring, mapping every inch of Rafael’s body as if memorizing it. Rafael gasped, head falling back, exposing the smooth curve of his throat. Matteo claimed it, teeth grazing skin, tongue tracing, marking.

“You’re insane,” Rafael whispered, but his hands tugged at Matteo’s shirt, pulling him flush against him.

Matteo didn’t respond. He thrust forward, grinding against Rafael, their hips colliding, pressing, hard. The friction ignited a fire neither could deny. Rafael moaned, low and unrestrained, hands gripping Matteo’s shoulders as if holding on for dear life.

Matteo’s control slipped, and he thrust mercilessly, hips snapping against Rafael’s, teeth biting, hands roaming. The air was thick with heat, sweat, and the scent of want. Every movement, every sound, was a war—violent, passionate, consuming.

“You feel that?” Matteo growled, voice rough and low, thrusting harder, pressing Rafael fully against the beam. “This—this is what happens when enemies stop fighting and start wanting.”

Rafael cried out, hips lifting, matching the pace, and the sound tore through Matteo like fire through steel. Both men shivered, burning, desperate, until the world narrowed to just the heat between them, the collision of desire that refused to be tamed.

Finally, they collapsed against the steel beam, bodies slick with sweat, breathing ragged, hearts hammering in sync. Matteo’s forehead rested against Rafael’s shoulder, his chest heaving. Rafael leaned into him, amber eyes dark and wild, lips curling into a smirk that was both triumphant and tender.

“Enemy,” Rafael whispered, voice husky.

“Enemy,” Matteo echoed, and for the first time, neither of them sounded like they meant it.

Because tonight, hate had turned into something far more dangerous—something neither wanted to fight.

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