The Mercenary and the Mortician (The Silent Hollow #1)

88. Cal Walker

D arkness was consuming my vision.

I knew this was a bad idea.

This was dangerous. I kept finding myself losing time. I would black out, then suddenly snap back to the bathroom with the blaring bass of Zed’s Dead rattling my bones as I tore into the man I loved.

I barely remembered carving my name into his arm. For a moment, I had been trapped in that concrete room again, chained to a much rustier tub, while Damian burned up my flesh.

Sometimes, I was in the tub, looking up. But most of the time, I was Damian, looking down.

My mind was spinning, and I kept forgetting that Ryan was the person before me. When I looked at him, all I saw was me.

It wasn’t until he called me ‘angel’ that I was able to snap out of it and remember that I was free now. I was in control.

The moment hadn’t lasted. The monster inside me didn’t like the way Ryan had been able to dismantle the illusion with a single word, so I told him to call me master instead.

He was hard and leaking for me, but there was hesitancy in his eyes as if he knew this was different from all the other times I had hurt him.

Ryan enjoyed pain during sex, but it had always been surface-level between us. I had never cut him before, and the sight of all his delicious, red blood flowing down his arm both delighted and disturbed me.

I found myself wishing I could remember cutting him, but I was hesitant to pick up the scalpel again.

Snatching up one of the pairs of handcuffs, I ordered him to lift his right leg. He did so tentatively, and I fastened one cuff around his ankle before forcing his leg straight and back.

“Give me your arm,” I demanded again.

He complied, and I attached his right wrist to the other end of the cuff. I repeated this on his other side, so he was forced to lie in the tub completely spread open and at my mercy.

I could tell he was terrified but still turned on. His cock was so hard, and it kept surging between his legs and leaving me beautiful little puddles of cum on his abdomen.

I stalked around the tub, admiring my work, before moving on to the next stage of my plan. The monster in me was snarling to be let loose, and I was doing everything I could to keep it under control. But I was slipping.

Turning the tap to the tub on, I reached for the handheld shower attachment that was fastened to the side.

I flipped the latch that redirected the water to the handheld, and Ryan squirmed.

“What are you doing?” he rasped, and I ran my fingers through the stream, observing the different settings I had at my disposal.

It was currently in a gentle rain setting, and I flashed the water over the backs of his legs, causing him to jump.

I ran the gentle trickle of water over his cock, and he groaned, rocking his hips as much as he could while I had him trussed up like this.

“Does that feel good?” I asked, continuing to tickle him with the water.

“Yes, yes, it feels good.” He moaned as I teased him, moving the spray over his legs and then back to his cock, where he seemed to be craving it most.

“You’re not supposed to be enjoying this, Mr. Fairview,” I warned.

‘Turn up the pressure,’ my monster whispered, and my fingers hovered over the switch.

A flashback of McGreggor dragging the hose over my exposed cock pulled me down.

I was screaming, and Damian was laughing.

Everything was cold, wet and dark.

I was alone.

No one was coming to save me.

I blinked, and I was back at Fairview. I found myself blasting the shit out of Ryan with the jet setting the same way McGreggor had done to me.

The water pressure here, thankfully, wasn’t nearly as strong as it was in the basement of Apex, but it was powerful enough that I knew it hurt.

The way he cringed and moaned in agony made my blood hot, and my dick swelled in my jeans.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it, Mr. Fairview?” I heard my voice, but it didn’t feel like I was the one saying the words.

I dragged the stream over his balls and felt myself smirk as he cried out in pain.

“Tell me this is what you want,” I ordered, unbuttoning my pants as I continued to torture him with the faucet.

“Yes. It’s what I want,” he rambled as I cut the water up and down the backs of his thighs.

“Keep that cock hard, Ryan. If you let it get soft, there’ll be hell to pay,” I warned, though there didn’t seem to be any risk of that. His balls were swollen and taught, drawn up tight against him. His little pink asshole was exposed, and I suddenly wanted to ram myself into it.

Turning off the water, I hung the fixture back up next to the tub’s faucet and pulled off my pants.

Ryan was moaning and rocking slightly in the tub, his hard cock pointing directly at his face.

I snatched up a fresh scalpel and stepped into the tub with him. It was large enough that I could comfortably kneel by his ass. I ran my hand down the back of his thigh and growled as I ripped the fresh blade out of its wrapper.

“If you’ve had enough, tell me now.” I snarled, but he shook his head frantically.

“No. More. I want more.”

I narrowed my eyes at him as the dubstep blared around us.

Almost feeling angry with him for wanting me to hurt him, I carved a deep line in the back of his thigh, my own cock leaking at the sight of his blood welling through the cut.

He screamed in pain, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop. I carved another line, snarling.

“Is this what you fucking wanted, Ryan? You want me to fucking torture you? Cut you up like the worthless piece of shit you are?”

‘Who could ever love you, Callum?’

‘Demon boy!’

‘You’re nothing. You don’t deserve to be loved.’

I blinked and realized I had carved another word in Ryan’s thigh.

A bloody and crude ‘mine’ was staring up at me, and I turned to look at Ryan’s face. He was looking at me with so much hurt and pain in his eyes, and not from the cuts on his flesh.

From what I had said.

“Say red,” I snapped. But he shook his head.

I tossed the bloody scalpel across the room and grabbed his jaw, hovering over him. A confusing mix of devastation, rage, and heat rolled through me as my cock slid against his ass.

“Say red!” I bellowed, but he refused, giving me a sad smile.

“I love you, angel,” he whispered, and the entire world stopped spinning.