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So here’s to a world where the heroes don’t look much different than the villains. How else are you gonna beat them unless you play their game? -Alina
Have you ever tried to stuff a full-grown body into the backseat? As a former cop, I’d advise you not to answer that question.
he can’t handle what I count as a good fuck. Not that I’ve ever fully fucked anyone.
I like the transactional nature of forcing men to their knees. I like the tears that fill their eyes when they realize they can’t breathe. I like the desperation of their nails in my thighs, ripping bloody paths that remind me I’m alive, although barely.
I will never be anything for anyone again.
My boy. Sounds like I want him. I mean more in a he’ll-be-mine-when-I-drain-the-life-out-of-him kinda way.
I fucking hate to admit it, but his kills are poetry. He’s not sloppy, and he’s wildly efficient at getting rid of evidence. If he wasn’t my enemy, I’d be tempted to be impressed. But he’s still made a fatal flaw. He got me involved, and he wormed his way under my skin.
Ronan is mine to break. Mine to torture. Mine to play with. And when I’m done making him pay for reminding me of what I can’t have, he’ll be mine to kill.
I found out later that Greyson killed himself. Hung himself from the rafters in his room. Also found out that before he died, he vomited. And I wasn’t there to rub his back. It was all my fault. I stopped talking to him, and he thought I gave up. The good part of my soul died that night.
“Do you like my ring?” He stares at me. I blink, then glance down. It’s still on my finger, and without thinking, I move to take it off. “No.” The man’s voice deepens in threat. “Leave it.” I swallow. What is happening? Why the fuck hasn’t he killed me? Why the fuck won’t he get closer so I can jump him?
“Stop fighting.” “Make me,” I snap. I wrap my right leg around his, tuck my other to my butt, and bridge and roll. Instantly, the roles are reversed, although the man still has my knife wrist clamped heavily in his meaty hand. “Oh, I’ll fucking make you,” he snarls.
“My name’s Logan. You call me that again, and I’ll shove my dick so far up your ass you won’t even remember what you look like.”
Logan grips me hard, his hand strong and demanding, wrapping around my shaft like he owns it. It feels fucking good. Logan chuckles. “You’re hard, Ronan.” “It’s just a reaction,” I hiss through clenched teeth. He jerks his hand, immediately shooting electric pleasure through me. “I think you’re hard for me.” I’m already so riled up that I feel my dick pulse once in his hand. He must feel it too, cause he laughs again. “Oh, I’m going to have fun breaking you.” “I’ll kill you.” I’m squeezing my eyes shut, trying to erase the feeling of his hand on my dick. Logan’s lips go to my ear. “I’d love to
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shudder, thinking about the man coming back to church. Thinking about what he did. I’ll be a good boy. I’ll make my parents proud. I’ll never be gay. And maybe, just maybe, they’ll realize I’ve been paying attention. Maybe they’ll say I wasn’t such a bad kid after all. Maybe they won’t stop loving me.
Logan jerks me hard, and I groan, snapping my eyes back up to meet his. He winks at me. “You’re hard already.” I knew that. I just tried to ignore it. “You’re jacking me off! Of course I am.” I jerk on my arms again, only to get stopped by the metal again. Logan just laughs. “It’ll be pretty gay when a man makes you come.” “I will not–” Logan leans down, his hot mouth so close to my dick I can feel his breath. I freeze. Is he going to put my dick in his mouth? A wild mix of emotions fills me. Slowly, Logan lowers his head so my dick is on his cheek. “Feel that?” He glances at me, his gaze
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“That’s a good little fag. Can’t help yourself, can you, slut?”
“Feel good to force yourself on someone else?” I snarl. Logan arches an eyebrow and lets go of my dick. It falls against my stomach, hard and throbbing. “You look pretty into it to me.” “What part of no don’t you understand?” I struggle again, riled up. My dick just wants to come, but I want to do anything but. “Hmmm. You can be in denial all you want, but your dick wants me.” Logan grabs me up again, this time picking up the pace and stroking me in a brutal tempo. Pleasure wraps me up, and I feel my balls drawing up. “That’s a good boy. Grit your teeth for your master.”
I just want someone to save me. Someone to make me safe.
“You have a pretty face, you know that?” Ronan blinks slowly, one eye closing before the other. “Buffalo wanted you to know that.”
“Don’t fight me. It just turns me on.”
“As much as you want to be in bed with me, you’re going on the floor. I’m going to uncuff your hands and put them around the bedpost. And you’re gonna let me do that, or I’ll hurt you. Got it?”
Logan gets three plates out, serving up what looks like fluffy, perfect scrambled eggs. Fuck him for that. I glance around. Three plates? Who the hell else is here? Logan just calmly slides me a plate. “Eat.” I stare at him as he slides Buffalo his own plate. “What the fuck?” Logan starts eating. “I made him one. You have a problem with that?” “No, I…” I frown. ‘If you don’t marry this man, then I will.’ Buffalo sounds awfully pleased.
“You put your fingers in my food.” Logan just looks at me for a second, then he smirks. “Did you want them somewhere else?”
“I’m not a child.” “No, but you should have learned this while you were one. It’s okay, I’ll teach you again. I can’t wait to watch it make you squirm.”
Logan smiles, giving me a little pat on the cheek. “Good boy.” And now, I’m suddenly hard.
“Good, princess?” “Your pockets.” I glare at him. He shrugs and, before I can say anything, slips his pants off. I’m left staring at a very naked Logan with a very big dick. He’s not fully hard, but even so, he’s longer than I am. And fuck, I know it’ll get even bigger when he gets hard. His dick twitches, then I jerk my gaze back up to his, my face heating. He just smirks. “That’s my only weapon.”
Getting
“Easy.” Logan chuckles. “Not quite old enough for a life alert button.”
“You look fucking good under me.”
“Move.” He just continues stroking. “Get me off, and I will.” “What?” My question is loud, panicked. He wants me to do what? Logan’s voice drops an octave. “Get me off, and I’ll move.” “Make me.”
“Make…you?” The way Logan’s lip curls in disdain makes me want to hurt him. So I snatch his dick in my hand, squeezing as hard as I can and yanking, digging my nails in as I do. Logan throws his head back and groans, thrusting his hips into me. “Fuck yeah. Hurt me.”
“God, you’re so perfect. Show me how much you hate me.”
“Good boy. That’s a good boy. You’re getting it.”
I want him to crumble for someone who hates him.
Seeing him under me, feeling his hatred and submission, seeing him look like…him…it reached deep into my soul and drew something out of me that’s been dormant for a long time.
Damn Ronan. Damn him, and more importantly, damn me. Because I felt something today. And as much as I know I should drop it, I can’t. I couldn’t fourteen years ago, and I can’t today. I’m not fucking done messing with Ronan.
“Sorry I’m not being a good enough captive for you. What would you like me to do? Clean the house? Worship at your feet?” Logan’s gaze darkens. “You offering?” “Fuck no.” I cross my arms at the same time Buffalo says, ‘Yes.’ Logan shrugs. “Then tell me what Buffalo says.” “Fuck no,” I spit back immediately. Logan gives a mean grin. “He likes me, doesn’t he?” “Likes you?” I sputter, looking for the right words. “Sure, like a dog likes the person who hits it. He doesn’t know any better.”
Maybe it’s not the heroes who save the world at all. Maybe it’s the villains.
“You just need to be fucking punished; that’s what it is. Fucking brat.”
His hand jerks my dick roughly. The sensation is overwhelming, locking me up every time he brushes the tip. I must be drunker than I thought, and I fucking like it. Note to self: drink whiskey; it makes you gay.
Logan lets go of me and grabs the item behind me. I focus on him just as he’s twisting the top off something. It’s…a maple syrup bottle. “The fuck?” I’m starting to scoot away before Logan pours it all. Over. Me. Down my stomach and onto my thighs. It even drips down into my groin and along my dick. “Jesus, Logan!” I shout, but then his hot mouth is on me, licking up my stomach. He cages me in between his hands, his tongue tracing up my skin. He looks up at me with a triumphant look, pulling away long enough to mutter, “It’s a punishment, Ronan. Not a reward.”
“You fucking…maple syruped me!” I’m panting, and I can’t fucking help it. My whole body feels electric. “Weenie drizzle.” “What?” “I prefer to call it weenie drizzle.” Logan grins and goes back to licking me, tracing soft patterns up my skin. “I,” I’m panting, and I need to distract him. Distract him from how much this is affecting me. “I hate being sticky.” “Well, you won’t be sticky for long.” He opens his mouth right under my dick, and it feels like my whole body locks up. He looks up at me and smiles, and it feels like the whole world freezes. Logan is under me, his mouth is an inch from
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“Beg.” “What?” I snap my gaze to him. Logan grins. “Beg.” And, to my horror, my drunk brain wants to. Because yes, now I’m drunk. I have to be. Logan sees my hesitation, and I bark out, “Fuck you.” Immediately, he loosens his grip on me, taking away the friction I need. I hiss, batting his hand away and trying to do it myself. “No.” He yanks my hands away, and suddenly, my dick is in his mouth. But he doesn’t suck; instead, he lightly rakes his teeth down it. “Beg.” ‘Do it!’ Buffalo’s voice is in my ear. And he’s screaming. ‘Are you fucking kidding me? Just do it!’
He stops to lick a trail of syrup up my torso, then he’s in my face. And then he’s kissing me. Logan’s lips are on mine, and he’s biting me. I open to let him in, and my mouth is flooded with salt and sweetness. I gasp, and Logan takes the chance to push his tongue and cum further into my mouth. His kiss is dominating and harsh, and for a second, I fight it. I’ve never had this before. Never had my own cum in my mouth. He mashes his teeth into mine, pushing me back into the counter. I fight for a minute, and then I melt, kissing him back. Logan moans, softening against me. And fuck, if the
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So he’s the kind of guy that gets hungry after he comes. Good to know.
It satisfies something in my soul to see him eat my food. Everything still feels like it’s going wrong, but watching him eat soothes a tiny part of me. It’s okay. Even if I can’t keep him and do things like we just did, I can still feed him.
Why won’t he see I’m just trying to be smart? To keep us safe. To keep him safe.
All I want to do is exist in our own little bubble. I
Every cell in my body needs to chase him. Needs him to stay with me forever. Needs him to learn he can never run from me.
He wants to play games? He needs to learn that I’ll win every time.
