Chapter 32 Ezrah
Chapter thirty-two
Ezrah
Seb moans in my arms as I cling to his body.
Mine.
That's all I can think about.
It's like my body is possessed by a ravenous monster. I can't get enough of him. I want to meld my skin with his. I want to leave marks on him so the whole world knows who he belongs to. I want to ruin his hole so he always remembers my cock is the only one he'll have till his last breath.
Watching Sebastian take a life should have sent me running. Instead, I want to be even closer to him. I want to claim him in a darker, twisted way.
The smudges of blood on his cheek make my cock throb.
Red suits my boy so well.
Sebastian looks so blissful and out of it, but I'm not ready to pull back. My cock is still hard, and I need the warmth of his hole, his wild moans, his submissive body moving the way I want it to.
I thrust into him, my cum making the glide feel divine. Massaging his plump ass cheeks, I spread him wider and dive inside him again and again. His cock hardens and he whimpers against my neck.
"Just like, that," I groan. "You're perfect."
"Daddy…"
"Cum for me again, boy. I want to feel your hole clenching around my cock as I empty inside you, filling you to the brim with my cum."
A breathless moan leaves his lips as he clings to me.
"I can't… Daddy, I can't."
"You can."
I change the angle and thrust brutally inside him. He screams and moans when I hit his spot.
Holding him with one hand, I wrap my other around his cock.
That's all it takes for my boy to cum and clench around my cock.
I bite his neck hard, tasting blood. The feeling of his cock throbbing and shooting in my hand, the clench of his hole around my cock, and the coppery taste of his blood on my tongue send me over the edge.
I cum harder than the first time. The orgasm almost brings me to my knees, but I have my boy in my arms to hold.
I pant against his neck, trying to get my breathing back under control. After several minutes, I realize I have a big problem.
First, my boy crashed after our rough time and is unconscious in my arms.
Second, I have a dead body a few feet away that I need to dispose of.
The issue? I'm not some killer mastermind and have no idea how to get rid of a body. But I can't just leave it here. It could lead back to my boy, and I refuse to let that happen.
I don't see any other way besides trying to wake up Sebastian and ask him what to do. But then I hear someone approaching from the alley I came through.
My heart lodges in my throat.
A man in black clothes, a mask, and gloves steps out of the alley. My whole body tenses as I watch him.
"So that's your choice?" the man says.
His voice sounds familiar, but I can't place it.
Cold chills crawl down my spine as I realize this man is probably the one who sent me the messages.
"Who are you?"
"You're always asking the wrong questions, Ezrah."
I feel cornered. If Sebastian weren't unconscious in my arms, I'd have approached the man already and gotten answers. I know how to fight. I made sure of it after my father.
"You're free to go. I'll take care of the body," the man says, gesturing to it like he's talking about candy.
"No."
What if he calls the police? I'm not risking Sebastian. I don't even care if that makes me complicit.
"And how do you plan to take care of the body? Do you know how to disassemble it? How to clean the blood in the alley? How to move it and dispose of it?"
I swallow, cursing inwardly.
He's right, but it still feels like I'd be letting down my boy.
"I'll take care of the body. You take care of your boy. In my opinion, I'm offering you a generous deal."
I can tell his patience is running thin.
"You won't call the police?"
"So this is what you're worried about." If I'm not mistaken, he's smiling. "No. I won't. Now go before I change my mind and leave you to clean up the mess you made."
"Me?" I blurt before I can stop myself.
"If you hadn't pounded the boy like a barbarian, he'd have taken care of his work."
Jesus Christ. How much did this man see? And who the hell is he?
I don't wait to find out.
Carefully, I sidestep him and leave. I'm careful on my way back to my car, making sure I'm walking in the darker parts of the street, avoiding people. Only once Sebastian is in my car do I exhale and relax.
The drive back to my apartment is uneventful. Considering I just witnessed a murder and went feral on my boy like a possessed devil, I expected something to go wrong.
I carry Sebastian inside. Thankfully, it's so late that no neighbors see us.
Once home, I strip his clothes and put him in some of mine. I hesitate, unsure what to do with his clothes. What if there's evidence on them? I shove them into a bag, tie it shut, and decide to wait until he wakes up to ask what to do.
I'm not used to waiting for my boy to tell me what to do.
It feels wrong.
That's why I plan on doing something the second he wakes up – after we have a long, long talk.
In the meantime, I grab a washcloth and clean his face and hands. I bring a bottle of water to the bedside table, then head to the kitchen. I prepare some light snacks for him when he wakes up and leave them on a tray.
After a quick shower, I join my boy in bed. I pull him close and hold him tightly.
What happened tonight loops through my mind as I try to reconcile the boy I know with the man who sliced a throat like it was the most normal thing in the world.
I have a thousand questions, but I refuse to dwell on them now. When my boy wakes up, he'll tell me everything.
Instead, I think about how I lost control – how something in me snapped, and all I could think about was claiming him, marking him, owning him completely. Right there. Next to a corpse.
It scares me a bit.
I felt unhinged, consumed by a need to possess him in every way possible.
He's mine.
All mine.
If that means covering up a murder, then so be it. Some people don't deserve to live. My father is the prime example of that.
Maybe my childhood messed me up more than I thought. But if it means I get to keep Sebastian, I'm okay with it.
Hours pass before I doze off, but I wake when I feel him stirring beside me.
"Daddy?"
"I'm here, my boy." I kiss his forehead. "I'll go make coffee and bring breakfast."
"No. Don't leave me," he says with panic.
"I'm not leaving you, my boy. I'm not leaving. I promise."
I know he doesn't just mean the kitchen. He means don't abandon me.
And I don't think I ever could. No matter what he does. No matter who he is or how many sides of him I've yet to see.
"I'll be right back."
"Okay."
He curls into himself, and it hurts to see him like this. But he needs food and caffeine, and honestly, so do I.
I make the coffee as fast as I can and grab the tray I'd prepared during the night.
When I return, he's sitting up against the headboard, eyes down, and fidgeting with his hands.
I set the tray on the bed and sit beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
"Let's eat. You need food."
He nods and starts picking at the fruit I cut. I eat too and sip my coffee until the tension eases.
Once we're done, I take the tray back to the kitchen. On my way back, I find him sitting on the couch, cross-legged, gaze downcast, and fingers twisting nervously.
I sit close, take his hands in mine, and wait until he looks up.
"I'm not leaving you," I say quietly. "Killer or not, I'm not leaving you. You're my boy."
Emotions flicker across his face - panic, relief, disbelief. And then he starts crying, full-on sobbing. I pull him into my lap and hold him, rocking gently.
I hate when he cries. I hate it. I want my boy to always be happy and have a smile on his face.
When he finally calms down, he pulls back, eyes wet and uncertain.
"Do you mean it?"
"I do," I answer without hesitation.
"How? You watched me kill someone. How can you be fine with that? How can you still hold me and look at me?"
I cup his cheek and smile softly. "Because you're my boy."
His brown furrow. "It can't be that simple."
"You're right. Nothing is ever simple. I guess my childhood messed me up more than I ever realized." I pause. "We have a lot to talk about. I want to know every part of you, even this dark, twisted part that you kept hidden. But nothing will change how I feel."
The doubt in his eyes lingers, but that's okay. I'll prove it to him.
From the second Sebastian came into my life, everything changed. It's like a beast inside me finally woke up, and this beast has eyes only for Sebastian, for our boy.
Killer or not, he's mine.
Always mine.