Cesare struggled against the assassino who was pushing his hidden-blade closer and closer to his chest. He grit his teeth, pushed back against the other man to prevent the on-coming blade, and hissed when the assassino broke off his breast-plate. They broke apart and glared at each other from afar, waiting for whoever would foolishly make the next move. He was relieved that his armour had protected him thus far, even though the damnable Auditore kept breaking his armour off until he was left with barely any bodily protection.
"Damn you, you old fucker!" Cesare yelled, his hand clenching around his sword. He lifted his sword, and was about to attack first when he noticed it. The assassino wasn't even moving anymore, but was just standing there, glaring at Cesare with a look that could have killed him on the spot. He frowned in confusion when the assassino dropped his sword, and started walking towards him, his eyes never leaving Cesare's. The other man proceeded to remove his armour, and Cesare hurriedly backed up a few paces, his sword held out in a parry.
"I'll show you 'old fucker.'" The Auditore man muttered as he quickly removed his metal vambraces. He pointed his sword at the other man's chest in warning, but the assassino kept striding towards him confidently. He lunged at the other man with his sword, and faltered when his sword encountered air instead of flesh. He heard a chuckle from behind him, and snarled, pulling out his gun instead. He let out a startled sound when both his gun and sword were knocked out of his hands. Cesare swiftly delivered a kick to the other man's chest, which caused him to stumble back with a grunt.
His sword was lying half-way across the battlement, and he ran towards it, but was quickly tackled to the ground. He groaned in pain, and knew a few of his ribs were bruised. A dead mercenary lying beside him still clutched a bloodied dagger, and he quickly started to crawl towards it, but his face was brutally smothered into the ground. He tried breathing, but only managed to inhale dirt instead and started choking, his face purpling. Finally, his head was roughly pulled up and he desperately gulped in air. His mouth tasted of blood and dirt, and he turned his head and spat onto the other man's face. He smirked triumphantly when it landed on the Auditore man's lip, but his smirk faltered when the other man started smirking himself.
He choked on a scream when his arm was pulled back hard enough to be ripped out of its socket, and he gasped when the assassino seated himself onto his back, pushing on his bruised ribs. He felt as if he couldn't get enough air into his lungs, and he started to pant heavily. He needed to gain the upper hand fast, or this would be the end of the infamous Cesare Borgia.
"Damn, old man, I think you weigh more than my father. Packing on the weight in your old age?" He said, and grinned up at the older man. The Auditore man growled, and ground his face back into the dirt long enough that his vision started to fade, but he was roughly pulled back up by his hair.
"You want to test me again, piccolo cagno?" The older man said. "Because I can do much more than this." The assassino removed the red sash from around his waist and tightly tied Cesare's wrists together. He renewed his struggles at this, but immediately stopped when the other man put more weight onto his sensitive ribs. He became rigid when his breeches were promptly removed and the other man stuck a few fingers into his mouth, and so far down his throat that he started to choke.
"You bite and you'll regret it, stronzetto," the Auditore man said, and seemed satisfied after his fingers were thoroughly coated with Cesare's saliva. "I do not want you to be so tight that I cannot even move." Without warning, the slicked fingers were shoved into his opening, and he cried out in pain as the saliva provided a poor lubricant. This could not be happening to him, not him, not Cesare Borgia.
"I'll kill you, I swear I will, and everyone you have ever cared about," he said through gritted teeth. The assassino laughed loudly behind him, but it sounded strained.
"You've already killed most of those people yourself, stronzo." The Auditore man said. "Prepare for your punishment, if you can." His mouth opened in a silent scream when the other man forced himself into his opening without any proper lubrication. The girth of the other man was considerable, and even with proper stretching and lubricant it still would have been unbearable.
He bit his lip to contain his groans and cries of pain. The other man lifted his hips off the ground, and started angling his thrusts in different ways. He cried out when a particular angled thrust brushed against something deep inside him. The Auditore man made a satisfied sound, and started to pound against it with every thrust. He felt ashamed when his traitorous manhood started to become hard.
"Enjoying yourself, bambino?" The Auditore man said, and firmly started to stroke his manhood in-time with his furious thrusts. "I'm not such a vecchio, now am I?" When he didn't answer he was slapped across the face.
"I asked you a question," the Auditore man growled, and slowed his thrusts.
"N-no, just p-please mossa." He whimpered, and tried to push back when his request was not obliged. He cried out in frustration when not only his manhood was left alone, but the thrusts had stopped altogether.
"As you wish," the assassino snorted, and flipped him onto his back. His knees were bent till they touched the ground beside his head, and he cried out when the new position put an agonizing strain onto his bruised ribs. This didn't seem to bother the other man who quickly entered him again, putting even more strain on his tender ribs with his added weight. He couldn't decide which was stronger: the pain that each thrust put on his ribs or the pleasure of each thrust slamming against his prostate.
He couldn't escape the Auditore man, smothering him, not only from the manhood filling and stretching him from the inside, but he was staring down at him, as if in a challenge. As if asking him what would he choose: pride or pleasure? He averted his eyes, and the Auditore man laughed at his shame.
The new position allowed the Auditore man to touch his prostate with even the shallowest of thrusts. His toes started to curl inside his boots, his thighs shaking with exhaustion and pleasure. The other man didn't even seem to be close to his orgasm, his thrusts steady and even. He closed his eyes and bit his lip from crying out when his orgasm took him. After the final shudder he slowly opened his eyes to see the other man smirking down at him.
"Piccolo bambino cannot last long can you?" The Auditore man said with a triumphant grin. "Do not worry bambino, it will be some time before I find my own release."