Mammon (Devilry #2)

7. Mammon

SEVEN

MAMMON

I drag my hand down my face, tiredness washing over me as I make my way to the kitchen. Fuck, it’s been a long day. On top of stopping from spending time with the terror twins—something my dick and my brain severely endorsed—I had to deal with fucking meetings.

So many goddamn meetings.

I understand their purpose just fine. They’re a necessary evil to creating an empire; to building something that will stand the test of time. Without them and my presence, there would be no one to follow and no one to fear. So, making myself known—and known often —is important. Our former master didn’t do that and look how he turned out.

Six feet under so I could piss on his grave.

I don’t normally drink, but I know there’s beer Luc bought sitting in the fridge. I just need one to take the edge off before I go to bed, something that’ll settle me, even if only for a moment.

“Stop!”

I freeze. I’d know the sound of that voice anywhere. It’s one of the two voices that haunts my nightmares, like a siren song meant to drag me under turbulent waters. I hear Gore screaming, his voice coming out in a tight cry, and my feet move faster than they ever have before. Entering the kitchen, I grab a steak knife as I pass, but stop dead in my tracks.

Because nobody’s hurting Gore.

No, he’s currently having his brains fucked out on the living room floor.

This is my worst nightmare come to life. It’s not like I don’t hear them at odd hours of the night going at it, but it’s always muffled and out of reach. It’s easier to resist the temptation when it’s at the other end of the hallway. Sometimes when I can’t help myself, I’ll picture the two of them together, but it’s only ever been in my imagination.

Until now.

Bel has Gore pinned down on the floor, rutting against his ass like a wild beast as Gore cries for him to stop. He punches his shoulder and tries to kick his legs out, but that only spurs Bel on even more.

“Fucking take it,” Bel spits, rearing his fist and slamming it straight down into Gore’s jaw. “Dirty fucking whore. You want this, don’t you?”

My perfect little Gore whimpers as his eyes roll into the back of his head. His face is flushed pink, a red mark blossoming on his skin from where Bel hit him. “Leave me alone!”

Bel chuckles, so full of evil intention that it makes even the hairs on my arms stand upright. He sits up so he can wrap his hands around Gore’s throat, fucking into him as he strangles him, growing more erratic with each thrust.

“That’s right, Gore,” he groans, laughing maniacally as Gore wheezes. “That’s it. Take that thick cock. Fucking feel it splitting that hot ass open. You like the pain, don’t you?”

Gore nods, then shakes his head, then nods again. When Bel lets go of his throat, he croaks out a broken moan, “Bel, fuck, you’re going to make me come!”

“Not yet,” Bel snaps.

He pulls out quickly before flipping Gore onto all fours, giving me the perfect view of his bubble butt. Bel spreads his cheeks, and my hand automatically goes to my aching cock at the sight of Gore’s little asshole. It’s red and swollen and so fucking mouthwatering.

Before I think better of it, I shove my hands into my sweats. I don’t even care that the dry friction burns as I jack myself to the sounds of Gore crying out for mercy.

“Yes!” Bel hisses when he slams back in, slapping Gore’s ass until it turns cherry red. “Gore, fuck, I love you so much.”

Gore whimpers when his head thuds against the hardwood floor, but he reaches behind him for Bel’s hand. “L-Love y-you.”

Fuck all the fucks in the world.

I want that.

I want to be the one pounding into that sweet man, breaking him apart, and making him filthy. I want Bel to watch as I stake my claim on him, knowing that I’ll be the best either one has ever had. No, screw that. I want to get behind Bel and put my dick in him, joining in the attempt to make our sweet princess fall apart.

There’s so much I want. So much I don’t let myself think of.

Fucking them. Loving them. Worshiping them.

Having them worship me .

“You gotta come soon,” Bel pants, draping himself over Gore’s back. “Can’t last any longer. You’re strangling my cock so well.”

Our princess whines, shoving a hand in between the floor and his body, trying his hardest to jerk his little cock. I can tell the second he comes because I come right alongside him. His entire body tenses, wound up so tight until he lets out the loudest, most blood-curdling scream I’ve ever heard.

Bel follows right after, giving one last punch of his hips.

Please, please, please ? —

And I get what I begged for when Bel pulls out. Gore’s sloppy wet hole dripping with cum. So fucking loose and gaping, it makes me want to fuck him with my fist until he can take the both of us.

But it’s what follows that almost breaks my resolve.

Gore’s a flustered mess on the floor, bawling his eyes out as he comes down from his high. Bel gently turns him on his side and spreads his cheeks so he can lick his tender entrance. So fucking sweet of him, trying to make his best friend feel good. It’s not enough for a sniffling Gore, who reaches for him until they’re locked in each other’s arms.

That.

That’s also what I fucking want.

I could get it right now. There’d be nothing to stop me. I could insert myself between the two of them, cradle them against my body, and keep them warm and safe. I could fuck them like I hate them, treat them like worthless whores, but love them after.

I almost take a step forward, but stop myself. I list the reasons in my head I can’t let that happen.

Distraction. Weakness. Loss of control.

So, I step away from them, letting them share this moment together without me because building an empire takes sacrifices I have to be willing to make.

But I don’t know how much more I can take before I snap.