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He did want to touch it. The moment he realized that he couldn’t, the want solidified. Did the boy use expensive products to make it that shiny, or was it naturally like that? Would it feel as soft as it looked, or would it be coarse? Would it stain Berga’s fingers like real blood?
“Every action has consequences. This is yours.”
“It’s not the horns,” he found himself saying. “I always liked them, actually.” Not a lie. He really had. What wasn’t to like? In truth, everything about the other man was attractive. He was beautiful in an ethereal sort of way, with soft features that belied the viciousness hidden beneath that pale, moon-kissed skin.
“Good Light, what is wrong with you?” “We don’t have enough time before the drug makes it hard for both of us to focus,” he replied. “If you’re still interested in my condition afterward, I’ll give you my official medical diagnosis.”
He’d blame it on the drug if he could, but the truth was, Berga enjoyed the pain. “Make me bleed.” Whoa. Had that come from him just now?
When Berga thought about how he’d touched every last inch of that just last night, how it’d been all over him—inside him, even—he shuddered before he could help it. And not in an entirely unpleasant way.
“I’ll have someone deliver the pills.” “Bring them yourself.” “That won’t be necessary.” “What if I want to see you again?”
Would the Butcher find out and avoid him though? Madden scowled, not liking that possibility one bit. After he’d come all this way for him, Berga better not tuck tail and run like he had the last time. A part of him was still annoyed about that.
There was now another thing on that list. Berga Obsidian.
He wanted the Butcher? Okay. He’d have him. The tricky question was…How?
weird and aloof and lacked social skills. He’d make for a shit romantic partner, and— Wait. Why was he thinking that far ahead?
Tying the Butcher up though…having him completely, one hundred percent at Madden’s mercy…Yeah, he kind of liked that. A lot.
It’d only been a week, but more of his roots were showing, most of the black gone so that it was only dyed at the tips. “Pretty.”
He jumped down from the car and started for him, slipping his hands into his front pockets to prevent himself from doing something rash. Like tossing Berga back against the building and kissing him. Punishingly. Possessively. For the whole damn campus to see—
“Where are you going?” It was obvious he’d been headed to the parking lot. Was he leaving for lunch? Was he meeting someone else? Madden’s hands tightened into fists, but he forced his expression to remain lax as he climbed the stone steps and stopped on the one just below where the Butcher stood.
No matter what Berga expected from here on out, Madden wasn’t leaving until he’d gotten what he wanted.
Had they always been that soft looking? Madden had been too hopped up on the drug to recall what they’d tasted like. He’d have to remedy that. Soon.
“You haven’t visited again.” “Why would I?”
This wasn’t going to do. For some reason, Madden didn’t like the way Berga was going about regular business, as though his presence in his personal space wasn’t worth the effort of noticing.
Had Madden been the only one caught up in those memories? That…seriously irked him.
“Are you going to hurt me?” “Do you want me to?” “Yes.” “Okay.”
“Ever been dominated before, Butcher?” Madden asked, shaking his head and continuing before giving him a chance to actually reply. “I bet not. I bet I’m the only one who’s ever seen you like this. Had you like this. Am I right?”
The smell of their mingled sweetness on the air and the feel of the Royal’s heated breaths on the back of his neck elicited a strange sense of calm Berga had never felt before.
Had Madden cleaned up for him before leaving? That was…thoughtful.
As if it should matter to him what Madden thought about his person. It shouldn’t.
The test may have been conclusive, but he was far from satisfied with the results. Liking to bottom was one thing. Needing Madden to top him was another.
Avoiding the Mad King would be easy enough. But his own mind… His mind had been a traitor for as long as he could remember. He just prayed this time wouldn’t be the case.
That now all too familiar irritation he’d been saddled with swept through him, and he bit the inside of his cheek. He’d rather be biting the Butcher. The Butcher who’d been ignoring his calls.
“Why’d you pursue him after that?” Madden asked. “What was so special about him you wanted to fuck him again?” “It was more than wanting to sleep with him,” Kelevra corrected. “I just…wanted him.”
“Then go for it.” Madden shook his head. “It’s not that simple.” “I don’t see how that can be true. You’re a Devil and a member of my Retinue. If you want someone, take them. Sounds pretty simple to me.”
“We are not.” Berga bent so that they were at eye level. “And we never will be.” “Again,” Madden added. Grinning when that had Berga noticeably bristling. “I’m willing to bet you’re wrong though. Are you?”
Madden’s gaze pinged between the two of them, an unsettling tightness in his gut suddenly making him want to pull his blaster from its holster. “I didn’t realize the two of you were this close.” “We’re not,” they both said at the exact same time. Which was…suspicious.
“How much time do you two spend together, exactly?” They were both seniors and medical majors at Vitality. They must have spent at least a good amount of their schooling in the same classes. Did they eat lunch together? Why did Madden care? Damn it.
The two of them had known one another practically their whole lives—but Berga could say the same. Even if the Butcher hadn’t ever been all that close to either of them. As far as Madden knew, in any case. What if they were closer than he’d thought?
The shadows expanded and became something black and twisted. Only monsters thrived in the places eyes couldn’t reach.
Madden considered that for a moment and then took a shot in the dark. “Abandon you then. I won’t vanish on you because of a little thing like this.” “Abandonment is…closer.” He blinked. “This is not a little thing.”
“Hey.” He latched onto the Butcher’s elbow, jerking him to a stop. “I don’t give a shit what you’re running from, so long as it isn’t me. It’s a ride in my hover car, Berga. Not an offer to sit on my dick. Stop being so stubborn.”
“Flix went on vacation without you,” he continued, admittedly rubbing salt in the wound. Was there a chance… “Are you two more than friends?” Had he slept with Madden because the person he’d really wanted to bed had been absent? That seriously pissed him off.
“Where are you going?” Madden had half a mind to take them to the Docks and lock the man up for the rest of the day where he could monitor him, but he understood how crazy that was.
Madden wasn’t the possessive sort. Why would he be? All his life, he’d had enough coin to buy whatever he wanted. And if what he had broke? He replaced it. He wasn’t like Kelevra, careful with his stuff. No, if he had it he used it until he couldn’t use it anymore. People were no different. Had been no different.
But, after viewing how the Butcher looked when he was broken…Whatever had happened to him at the Academy, that hadn’t been normal. Something was ...
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“You chose me that night,” he reminded with a shrug, downplaying the way he was currently feeling since it was obvious the Butcher wouldn’t be pleased about his growing obsession, “Now I’m choosing you. Can’t I?”
He had a wicked sense of humor, made even more humorous by the fact that half the time Berga spoke, he did so with a monotone and a blank expression. There’d only been a handful of times Madden had seen him openly emote, and three of them had been in the past week alone. He wanted to see more.
Wanted to know what made the Butcher tick, what sort of twisted thoughts circled around his mind. What had happened to make him go berserk back at the Academy earlier.
Maybe that’s what a guy like Berga needed. Someone to take things out of their overthinking hands. Someone to take control.
He’d make him accept this. Accept whatever this burning sensation in the pit of his stomach was.
They couldn’t sit out here all day, and even though he’d fully intended to just drop Berga off and leave, he was no longer satisfied with that outcome.
Some people were better at it than others, and though he never would have guessed that Berga was that type of person, he could see it clear as day now. Berga needed someone else to coax emotions out of him. He was in luck.
“I’ve never really thought much about it,” Berga said. “Flix designed it.” Madden frowned. “Flix?”