Painful Love (Kings of Aces #2)

by T. Ashleigh

but the small boy huddled near the tub in dirty clothes, covered in Ellen’s blood, is what has me almost dropping to my knees.

Ohhhh shit... Bunky?

He’s young, probably eight or so. Looks around the same age as Silas if I had to guess.

Babies

It all started on a Tuesday.

“Silas was tellin’ me about how he ran into the golden boy this mornin’.”

BABIES <3

think ‘happy’ thoughts. Snickerdoodles. Dinosaurs with tiny hats. Silas pissed off.

Poor Whaley. His future was sealed with those simple words, because he’ll be mine and I’ll make sure of that. Whether he likes it or not.

“I don’t like bein’ touched in general.” It isn’t a lie. Even when I fuck, I keep things as distant as possible. The only touching I need is my cock in a tight hole, everything else isn’t necessary. “Hmm.” He fiddles with his piercing, one shoulder lifting in a shrug. “Shame. We could have fun.”

His eyes glaze over as his breaths stutter from my tight hold on his throat. “Oh, fuck. I like this. Can you squeeze just a little harder?”

“That tone, the way you’re handlin’ me... Gonna make me nut if you keep it up.” Wouldn’t let you come. Would edge the fuck out of you for having such a smart-ass mouth.

It’s entirely too sensual watching his tongue ring come out to play and the way his blood glides across his lip, making it a pretty shade of red. He closes his eyes again, like he’s enjoying himself, and I feel the zing of lust shoot straight to my dick.

“It’s heady, has that metallic taste, but also there’s a little sweetness too.” He holds out his hand for me, but I stay rooted in place, unsure of what to do next. “Wanna taste me, Whaley? I’d let you.”

My mind and body want only one thing. Bunky. The way his neck felt under my hand. The way his eyes closed as he offered himself to me. The way his chest stuttered at my touch.

the demon that’s been locked up tight bursts free from his cage, wanting one thing and one thing alone. Our newest obsession.

I’m too old for him and he’s too fragile. He deserves someone better and that’s not me.

The object of my darkest obsessions, my most depraved thoughts, and regular late-night fantasies is too close to me, going out of his way to make sure I’m hyper-aware of his lingering presence.

“I could handle you just fine, Whaley. I’d be the best you ever had.” No, I’d be the best you ever had, and you’d never be able to escape me then.

“You like that, huh? Makin’ me crazy?” “I’d rather do that by ridin’ your dick,” he tosses back, dropping his gaze down my body, that wicked smirk of his in place.

“I think about it a lot, you know?” he rasps, his hand coming up to his chest to rub there for a moment as his eyes continue to greedily run over my body. “Think about how you’d look naked.”

“I wonder how big your cock is. I bet it’s huge. You look like you’re packin’.”

He shoves his hand inside his pants, letting out a groan and arching up when he reaches his prize. My prize. He’s touching himself for me. Touching himself while thinking about me.

“You want me.” It’s not a question. Hell, for once he’s not even teasing. It’s just a statement, a true as fuck fact, and all I can do is nod, because right now, I’m pretty damn sure I’d give up anything to have him one time.

“I’m gettin’ tired of finger fuckin’ my ass pretendin’ it’s you. Please, put me out of my misery already. I’m beggin’ you.”

“You need to be really fuckin’ sure about this,” I tell him, my eyes looking over every inch of his face. “I mean it. This ain’t a game. I’m not one of those other guys you’ve fucked in the past. I like it rough, I like to be in control, and I will own every inch of your damn body.

He flicks his tongue against mine, letting me feel the metal bar there, and he tastes just like I’ve imagined, sweet with a hint of tobacco. Addictive in the best possible way. A drug I’m going to hit every time to chase a higher high.

His heaving chest is covered in tattoos, and my eyes widen when I realize he has a replica of one of mine splayed over his pec. What the fuck?

Just spit on my hole and fuck me already. I wanna feel it.” He moans and pushes his ass back into my jean-covered cock. “I want it to hurt so fuckin' bad.” “You sure?” I ask, though he clearly knows what he wants, and who am I to deprive him? “Fuck, yeah. I already fingered myself earlier thinkin' of you. I'll still be nice and soft.”

"You should be glad I’m horny right now, else I’d be suckin’ the life outta your cock. Do it so good you’d never be able to be with anyone else.”

Before I have a chance to react, he’s pulling off me, spinning, and dropping down to his knees. His eyes widen as he looks at my cock, then he brings his hands up in prayer, closing his lids while letting out a happy sigh.

Lmaooooo Bunky

He gives me a few licks, teasing the metal, and the feeling of his piercing dragging along mine is going to make me combust.

“Be patient.” He pushes back, throwing me a glare over his shoulder. “I’ve been patient. Months and months of fuckin’ patience. Now I’m done. Give me your cock.”

Fuck it, I'll be here all night if I wait for him to stop being a brat.

I regretfully slip out and sit back so I can admire the view. “Push out.” “Kinky.” He snickers but does what I ask. I sit mesmerized as my cum pulses out of him, chuckling when he wags his ass playfully. “Wanna fuck it back into me?”

I fucked Bunky. I fucked Bunky in the living room of Badge’s trailer when my right-hand could have come home at any time.

I just fucked the one person I know I can’t have.

I’m not wasting any of Whaley’s magic spunk. I want to collect it all, slather it over my skin, and make my own lotion so I can mark myself with him whenever I want.

Bruh

If people knew how much I think about him or the way I watch him when he’s not looking, they’d be concerned. Not to mention my collection of Whaley treasures I hide in my closet. All the pictures I’ve taken of him when he wasn’t watching and my fan fiction might come off a tiny bit obsessive, but it’s all out of severe like for him, I swear. I’m not crazy.

BRUH

Me: God, my ass misses you. It wants your dick back, pretty please.

If he’s not texting me back, he better be dead, or else I’ll kill him myself.

Me

Is it desperate? Yes. Do I care? No, I don’t.

I’m tempted to drag him to my room and spank his ass red while he chokes on my cock for being such a brat.

He fists the front of my shirt with one hand while the other presses the pocketknife I gave him years ago to my throat.

“You think you can fuck me and leave me?”

“I want to jab this knife in your fuckin’ neck and watch you bleed out. You think you can just toss me aside? That ain’t happenin’. You fucked me, now you’re mine.”

Bunky’s actually tasting my blood, savoring the evidence of his beautiful violence, sharing my DNA, and it’s the best thing I’ve ever felt. It’s like I’m a part of him now, soaked into him, and for a man like me, that power goes straight to my brain.

“Gonna suck your blood while I drain your cock.”

What if I cut him too? What if I drag that blade against his sensitive, pale skin, and carved myself into him? Made my mark so that every other fucker knows this guy belongs to me, body and soul?

I’d burn the world down for him. Torch it. I want to keep him locked in my room, gagged and chained and⁠—

I’m like a dragon appreciating its hoard, little scraps of Whaley I’ve managed to sneak away laid out in front of me. It’s not creepy, it’s sweet, and I don’t care if people say otherwise.

I told myself that one day I wouldn’t need little pieces of him, that I’d have him as a whole. As someone who would love and never leave me.

“How the fuck do you know about Whaley?” He rolls his eyes. “You don’t think the pictures of him in your closet kind of tip it off?”

Jesus Christ