Make Me (The Silent Hollow, #2)

by Alina May

Ronan is beautiful and lethal and fucking crazy. For a second, I’m caught up in it, watching as my man takes the life of another. My man. Those words wrap up in my mind like a whirlwind. My man? Why did that idea come so easily to me?

Why does Logan care? Sure, the guy was kinda the prettiest man I’ve ever seen. He looked kinda…I don’t know…hot pointing a gun at me.

“Come here,” Logan demands. ‘Yes, Daddy,’ Buff smirks from his favorite spot on the kitchen island. Nosey bastard wants to see everything.

“Good boy. That’s what I want. A good slut all tied up in my arms.”

“It’s not hard to stand there and show me your neck. So why do you seem to be struggling?” He holds me firmly in place, and all the while, there’s war inside my head. I don’t want to do what he says—purely on principle. But also, I’ve never felt such a delicious thrill through my whole body being helpless in Logan’s arms. “You have a hard time submitting, don’t you?” There’s a sliding sound, then something cold and sharp presses against my neck. Something like a knife. I freeze. “Feel that?” Logan hums. “Oh good, now you’re obeying.”

“Fuck you, Ronan.” “Fuck you!” I shoot back. “You know,” he advances on me, “sometimes, I want to punch you in the face.” “Yeah?” I stop, the adrenaline rushing through me, but I let him advance on me. “And sometimes,” Logan gets up close enough that his breath brushes my skin, “Sometimes, I just want to kiss the fucking attitude right out of you.”

“No.” Logan presses me back. “Stay.” His lips are nipping, sucking, chasing me. I fucking love the chase. I pull back again, looking into Logan’s blue eyes as I breathe, “Make me.” There’s a flash of something in Logan’s eyes, and then he’s on me, using his big body to back me through the kitchen and down the hall. My heart is racing, and I don’t know if I’m ready for this. Fuck, I’m definitely not ready for this. So then, why does it feel so right? “Careful.” Logan grabs me right as I stumble into a wall, but I don’t feel it. I feel warm and scared and fucking hard. Logan leans into me, rubbing his hand down my pants and cupping my dick. He groans, rubbing me up and down. “You’re so hard for me.” I can’t do anything but moan, flexing my hips into him. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I’ve never had sex with a man before. I think I must panic for a second because suddenly Logan is shushing me and pushing me back into the bedroom. Then, I’m on the bed, and he’s on top of me, kissing me again, smelling so good, like soap and aftershave, and heat floods my dick. I’m so worked up it feels like I could come at any moment. “Ronan,” Logan moans into my lips. “Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.” I grunt, remembering that he just likes me because I look like his ex. I try to shove him off me, but Logan isn’t having it. He just pins me to the mattress, peppering kisses and bites across my neck. “Never,” nip, “scare me,” nip, “again.”

Ronan is vicious to the villains. It’s refreshing and invigorating, and fuck, if I’m not a little obsessed with it. But he’s also hurt and afraid. And I have a feeling that under all of that pain, Ronan is just as kind. And I want to pin him down and find that kindness, whether he wants me to or not.

I can feel Ronan’s heart pounding under his shirt. I want to trap it. Trap him down so it never stops beating. So he never leaves me.

like this, and suddenly, I want to kiss him again. “I want to be your first.” My heart stutters, and I stare at Ronan. He…what? “Make me your first.”

do know one thing for sure: I want to be Logan’s first. Some animalistic part of me doesn’t want anyone else to take that. That’s not for anyone else. So maybe that makes me a little bit gay. But I’m sure I won’t live long enough to process that anyway. So fuck it. Let them eat ass. Or, however the saying goes.

“Easy, baby.” He opens the bottle, coating his fingers, and then they drop back down between my cheeks, all cold and slippery. “I can’t–” but his fingers are sending a delicious thrill through me. Logan continues stroking my dick with one hand while the other messes with my ass. My face flushes. “Stop thinking,” Logan growls. “It’s just an ass. A perfect ass.” He looks at me, and I try to close my legs. He stops me with his body. “Oh, fuck no. You can be a brat all you want, but you don’t get to be embarrassed about the thing that’s getting me off right now.”

“That’s a good boy,” Logan growls. “Take my finger in your dirty little ass.”

“No. Don’t come yet. I want to be balls deep in you the first time a dick makes you come.” Logan’s voice is gruff.

“Oh fuck. You feel so good, princess.”

I just came so hard that I’m pretty sure I might be a little gay.

I let my kidnapper take my ass, and I fucking liked it?

Logan’s waiting for some kind of response, so I just cough, “Okay.” “Okay?” He watches me with those fucking knowing eyes. I don’t know what else to say. Okay I’m listening? To my kidnapper? Sorry, the hot kidnapper who I want to fuck over and over and over again? I want everything about his strong, sexy body to hold me down and fuck me until I’m forced to come over and over again.

Okay, well, maybe I’m gay for more than just Logan. Fuck me, I’m fucked.

“Dakota,” Ronan mutters. Freezing horror runs icy hot through my veins. “He’s fine,” Logan’s voice is muffled in Ronan’s body. “He’s watching.” “And?” The whole room is full of charged silence. I’m not sure what to say or do. I just want to get away, but I also can’t tear my eyes away from the display of power and lust on the bed in front of me.

“I want him to watch,” Logan says, continuing to kiss Ronan. “I want you to get off in front of him.”

“That’s a good boy. Be my good boy and give me that dick.”

Dakota’s gaze hardens as if he thinks I’m going to interrogate him. I want to. I want to force him on his knees in front of me. Want him to pay for those defiant looks.

Those pretty eyes widen in fear, and Dakota locks on my face. He gets this look every time he stutters. Some tiny part of my frozen heart hates that he feels afraid. So he stutters—so what? I have time.

Fucking hell, I’ve always been a sucker for the straight boys who hate me.

Dakota is quiet. He’s a tortured poet that I just want to protect. On the flip side, Ronan is aggressive. He’s the fight that I love so much. They’re like two sides of a coin. Two sides of Greyson.

I just want to make both of them safe. I want to make Ronan feel safe to be soft. And I want to make Dakota feel safe to be hard.

trapped fawn. All helpless and trembling. Fuck, I’m hard, all the blood rushing to my groin. What is my deal with freckles? First, Logan’s eye freckles, and now Dakota’s cheek freckles. ‘Fucked for freckles,’ Buffalo sings.

“Down.” Ronan shoves me to my knees at the foot of the bed. “Get off.” I try to yank his fingers off, but he just laughs and digs his grip in even more. “Kneel. We’re gonna have some fun.” I’m not sure what he’s doing, but my eyes are watering, and my face is being pressed into the side of the bed. “You like some rough sex? Hmmm?” I can hear a zipper, then clothes rustling while my head is being jerked around. I should fight harder, but the delicious tingles are back. It’s just because I’m drunk. “Nasty, hungry little slut.”

Ronan smirks. “Good boy. You’re such a good, nasty boy. Aren’t you?”

“You can tell me no, but that word means nothing to me.” Ronan leans closer, and his breath brushes against my forehead. “Because I know what you really want, Dakota Stewart.” “And what’s-s-s-s,” I get hung up on the word, sending a bolt of anxiety through me. Ronan just waits. “What’s that?” He grins. “Me.” Then, Ronan tucks his hand up to the side of my head, yanking me to the inside of his thigh. My face is so close to his dick that I actually flinch back. Ronan just laughs and strokes it lazily. “Now, you’re gonna be a desperate little slut and watch me get off, but you can’t touch yourself. Got it?”

“Don’t…touch,” Ronan moans. “Nasty boys don’t get to come.”

Ronan moves his hand down to his feet. He smears his cum there, then grips the side of my head again with his cum-coated hand. Ronan looks me in the eyes, his gaze dominating and mean. “Lick it, freckles.” “What?” I sputter, looking down at his feet and then back at his face. “I said,” he leans in closer, “lick. It. Clean me up, nasty boy.” A wash of heat runs across my face. “Lick my feet. Worship me like the disgusting little slut that you are.”

Ronan and I are fucking bombs, just waiting to be triggered. It’s dangerous and destructive and fucking addictive.

You can be my good boy and suck me off while Logan watches. Right?”

“Good boy. Take my dick in that pretty little mouth. Let’s show Logan just how much he’s missing.”

If Ronan has to hate me to keep living, then so be it. At least he’ll still be here.

“So you,” I point at Dakota without looking at him, “are going to keep going. Keep sucking him off until he comes. No running.” I move to Ronan, who has sat back up. “And you are going to start living.”

“I’m trying to make you,” Logan hisses. “Trying to make you safe. Make you happy. Make you seen.” He leans in, those blue eyes so fucking tortured it kills me. “But here’s the thing. You have to let me.”

For the first time in a long time, I think I actually want to let someone be there for me. I think I want to let this broken, bossy, beautiful man bulldoze through my bullshit and make me feel. Make me live.

“Go ahead. Try and run. It’ll only make it more fun when I catch you.”

“One thing you’ll learn, Kota,” Logan smacks my ass. Hard, “is never run from me.”

“Do it!” I pull my sweats down, exposing my dick. It’s so hard that I can feel every pulse of my heartbeat in it. “If you let me think about how wrong it is-s-s-s-s, I’ll fucking s-s-s-s-s-stop.” Suddenly, Logan is in my face. I suck in a breath as he cocks his head slowly. “What the fuck did you just say?” “I…” I go blank because Logan’s blue eyes are narrowed, and he’s pissed. “Say it again. I dare you.” What did I say? I’ll stop? “The part about it being what?” Logan’s clenching his jaw so hard his words are coming out in a hiss. “Let’s get one thing straight. Dick sucking is not wrong. Gay sex is not wrong. I’m so fucking—” He yanks back, fisting his hand and pressing it to the strap of his ball cap. His chest heaves. “You’re not gonna run, Kota. Cause I won’t let you.”

“The only thing I want to hear from you is how much you like it and what a good boy you are.”

“Look at both of my sluts.” Logan draws his hand back, raising it to slap Ronan on the ass again. In the spot that’s starting to bruise. Ronan nearly bites down on my dick, and I hiss. Logan tosses us a smirk. “Such good sluts for daddy.”

Loving someone is scary. The more you love, the more you can lose.