Chapter 8
LOGAN
Killian’s eyes are wild.
I should’ve walked out the door, but the truth is, I was never leaving. He’s right about me. After what was done to my brother, I can’t let Sik Vik be tormented by anyone other than me. It’s my duty as Wrath’s protector. And nothing, not even a blowjob, is gonna stand in my way.
When I reach Killian, I’m amused because he looks confused, almost like he’s ready for me to deck him, and there’s a thrill to being able to throw him off for a change.
I snatch his belt, unfastening, watching as his expression shifts from confusion to certainty.
I make quick with his fly, though as soon as I get it open, revealing the waistband of his underwear, a rational part of my brain kicks in.
The part that would never do something like this—not with a man, and especially not after what this particular man has done to me.
I grind my teeth, grunting as I struggle between pride and responsibility, forcing myself to my knees as I submit to the latter.
This isn’t the measured, controlled man I’ve been all these years, the one who’s made every choice in his life.
This is something more innate, primal even.
I’ve never given a blowjob, but I’ll figure it out, because a Wilde will do whatever needs to be done.
“Yes,” Killian breathes, making the hairs on my nape stand on end.
I drag his pants down to his ankles with his briefs, and he’s already stiffening for me.
It must be turning him on, the idea of dominating me like this, forcing me into submission.
And there’s no question this is by force because he knows something about me that only a man in his position could know—I can’t temper my desire for blood.
I stare at his girth. Such a thick cock, and I imagine it’ll swell even more once I start working it.
“You just gonna stare at it?” he asks, mockery in his tone as he revels in his power.
I just have to go for it, so I keep in mind the things I’ve enjoyed when women have sucked me off.
I cup his balls, firming him up even more before I run my tongue across his salty flesh.
I probe with my tongue, surprised at how pleasant his taste is.
While I’m exploring, he runs his fingers through my hair, and I jerk my head back. “Don’t touch me.”
He grips on tight before releasing, like it’s a struggle for him to obey a command. I can’t blame him for that, when I understand the privilege he comes from all too well.
“Stick it in your damn mouth. Show me how much you want to make that guy pay.”
Killian has this sick hold over me. We’re too much alike. Maybe it’s something to do with being the eldest sons, or just this blood running through my veins that has me hardwired for vengeance against the man he’s obstructing me from destroying.
I don’t hesitate. I slide my lips around the head of his cock, allowing him into my mouth.
Massaging his balls, I move back and forth, hating him for how much harder he’s getting, forcing me to open my jaw more.
But I’m still a Wilde, and I keep my teeth just close enough to his flesh to irritate, the way I remember one of the girls I was with did with me, albeit unintentionally.
Killian growls, snatching me by the hair. Instinctively, my jaw opens, though I wish I’d clamped down as he pulls me off his dick, tugging my hair, yanking my head back, my neck taut as he barks, “Try that again, and you’ll be getting a lot worse than this.”
I stare into those dark, nearly black eyes, the sort of eyes the devil might have. I try to imagine how much worse he would give me, but nothing good comes to mind.
“Now tell me you’re sorry before getting back to work.”
I disregard his request, hoping if I suck him off some more, he’ll leave me alone, but he keeps me in place, tugging back tighter. I don’t show I’m in any pain, though. I refuse to show him any more weakness than I already am.
“Say you’re sorry, or this deal is off.”
I gulp, swallowing my pride as I accept that if I’m going to all this trouble, I shouldn’t fuck it up for myself. “Sorry,” I say through my teeth, and he smirks, his satisfaction burning like hot coals in my chest.
“Let’s get this over with.”
I take a breath and lean toward his cock, neither of us breaking eye contact.
He relaxes his grip but still keeps his hand in my hair, like he’s ready to pull me back if I disobey him, which he should know only tempts me to bite him that much more.
Although, maybe that’s what he’s intending.
That I’ll do it so that he won’t have to give up his chance to hurt Sik Vik. But I’m not giving in that easily.
I slide him back into my mouth, taking more care this time. Being nice, really.
“That’s right,” he breathes. “Show your future husband how good you are at sucking dick.” He’s trying to goad me, but if he thinks I can’t take this, he doesn’t know what it means to be a Wilde.
I move back and forth, once again recalling experiences of being blown, things I liked, knowing the better I make it for him, the sooner this will be over.
With my free hand, I take the base of his shaft and move it in sync with my mouth, my saliva acting as lubrication, making it easier for me to pleasure him.
I must admit I’m surprised I don’t hate this, even when I can’t stand the guy this cock is attached to.
“Mmmm,” Killian draws out, his pleasure making me hate it again. “That’s good. Be my little slut, learn how to take this cock the way you’ll have to take it over and over again.”
What is with this guy? I haven’t even agreed to marry him. But he knows it’s unlikely I’ll back out. I’m as trapped in this agreement as I am in this moment of having to suck off this asshole.
“Work my cock here, and then you’ll learn how to take my cock in your cunt.”
I know what he means, and that’ll happen over my dead body—and with Killian, that’s entirely possible. Hell, he’d probably fuck my corpse, hoping my ghost would have to watch.
As I get him to the back of my throat, I struggle more, gagging slightly, which makes him chuckle.
“Careful. Don’t enjoy yourself too much.”
I pull off his dick. “I’m not enjoying this, you sick fuck.” I glare at him, despising him for what he’s making me do. He sports the biggest smile and a sadistic look in his eyes, enjoying this even more as I make it clear how much I’m not.
Or at least, how much I’m not that it’s him.
“Don’t be discouraged, Logan. It’s your first time. You were bound to choke a little.” He takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger, running his thumb across my flesh.
I shake my head.
His dick’s now slick with my saliva, and I slide back onto it.
I’m able to get back into it faster, and as I do, there’s a burst of flavor that’s new—I assume his precum.
It’s as potent as I would expect from a man like him, invading every inch of my mouth, as though he’s marking me.
As he rests his hand on the back of my head, I wish I could tell him not to touch me, but I can tell it’s making him harder, which can only get us there faster, so I need to focus on what I’m doing.
I bob my head, working him and caressing his balls, and his hand slides down to the side of my face.
“That’s right. Take that cock. Choke on it like a good boy.”
I don’t want to give him what he wants, yet another part of me pushes me forward until I gag again.
I don’t know where that came from, but I hate that I can feel how much it excites him as he swells in my mouth and I get another taste of his precum.
It’s not that it tastes bad, and maybe if I didn’t hate him, I might even admit to liking it.
As I keep going, I notice his musky scent, which isn’t unpleasant either.
“Who owns you now?”
There’s that powerful burn in my chest again. No one owns a Wilde.
“You’re getting me so close, Logan. And when I come, I don’t want you to swallow. I want to come on your pretty face so I can mark you.”
That wasn’t part of the agreement, and I’m not interested in giving him anything beyond his initial request, so I persist, speeding my movements, massaging his balls.
“Logan, I’m about to… Pull off. I said pull off.”
He yanks at my hair, but I force myself farther down on his shaft until it’s at the back of my throat, where he releases.
As I swallow, I worry I might’ve been too ambitious because there’s so much, and I have to keep swallowing him, but then I’m choking.
With his fingers threaded in my hair, he guides me off his dick and I cough, though I must have swallowed every drop because nothing comes out.
He chuckles, my suffering amusing him, or maybe it’s because he got to dominate Logan Wilde. That’s all he seems to care about anyway.
I scowl at him, and he’s still got that huge-ass grin on his face.
“I thought you’d be pissed I didn’t take it to my face like you wanted.”
“I only said I wanted that because I knew that would get you to do exactly what you just did.”
The blood in my face drains. Here I thought I was so clever, but Killian Lorde outsmarted me.
“Bastard,” I say, pushing to my feet. I take a swing, and he snatches my wrist, and in no time, he’s got my chest pinned to his desk, my arm twisted behind me. I swear I can still feel his come sliding down my throat. “Fucker.”
He leans close, whispering in my ear, “If you hadn’t been so focused on what you were doing, maybe you would’ve detected the deception, but how does it feel to have me moving through you, staining your insides? Something you’re ready to get used to?”
I struggle in his hold, ready to take him on, but he twists my arm back farther to subdue me. “Fuck.”
“I think you know I’ll snap it right off if I need to, so just be a good boy and be proud of having me in you. After all, I’m giving you what you came here for. And this will be more effective to use against Sik Vik, don’t you think?”
The humiliation from his trick stings, but he makes a good point. There’s only one man who deserves all my ire right now. It’s also not Killian’s fault that I was so determined to resist him, I wound up giving him exactly what he wanted, even if it does make me despise him even more.
“Are you going to be good?” he asks, twisting a little harder.
I groan. “Fine.”
He releases me and steps back.
I want to swing around and sucker-punch him, but that wouldn’t be honorable. I rise to my feet and spin around to face him.
“Now, would you like to plant a little kiss on me for being kind enough to let you swallow my load?”
My cheeks heat up, the humiliation flaring anew. I’ll never be able to look at Killian again without knowing he made me submit to him.
“Kissing wasn’t part of the deal.”
“You don’t want to go ahead and get some practice in?” He winks, but I don’t respond. Seems like anything I say will only prolong getting to what I came here for.
“Sik Vik,” is all I say. I lick my lips, realizing there was a little flavor I’d missed, which stirs that searing anger within me.
Killian stares at me, that sliver of a smirk playing on his lips before he pulls his boxers and pants back up and fastens his fly. With his belt still undone, he retrieves his phone and texts, the act curtailing some of this hate I feel toward him, as I reflect on this lingering taste on my tongue.
He takes a moment to fix his belt, then remains quiet, waiting. My fury climbs until the doorknob turns and Jaime and Krychek enter with Sik Vik, who has a bag over his head, reminding me of my own experience with them and how things could have turned out for me had I been on Killian’s bad side.
Sik Vik struggles. “Let me go, you fuckers,” he seems to say through something in his mouth, obstructing the sound. I’m relieved he has his wits about him because I want him conscious and aware of what I’m about to do.
They take him over to the torture device I’d been strung up in during my last visit, cuffing his wrists over his head. There’s dried blood across his hand, a webbed pattern running down his fingers, which I assume is Killian’s doing.
“Everyone leave,” I instruct as I pull my blade from my pocket.
Jaime and Krychek head out, but Killian doesn’t budge.
“I’d like to be alone with him.”
He tilts his head. “No.”
“Please,” I say, hoping he’d have the decency after what I gave him. I don’t want him to see me like this. I don’t want anyone to see my dark side.
He shakes his head. “I’d prefer to watch.”
I won’t win this fight, so why bother?
I set aside my disdain for Killian and approach Sik Vik. I remove his hood—see he’s got a horse bit in his mouth—and look him dead in the eyes the way Dad taught us to do with those who hurt our family.
“My brother has a concussion because of you,” I say, removing the gag.
As he recovers, he says, “Lucky he only has that much.”
“A guy like you shouldn’t be street fighting. You should be in prison. Although I have a feeling, if I did some digging, I’d find out you’ve already done time. Wouldn’t I? So why don’t you save me the research and tell me what for. Bar fights? Manslaughter?”
He sneers, glancing between us. “Only done a brief stint.”
“For?”
He looks at me like a man who’s got something to hide, someone who knows whatever he told me would only piss me off more.
I nod. “I’m too curious not to find out.
” I pull out my phone—an act to give him some hope I might spare him—but then move quickly, shoving the blade into the side of his knee, earning a powerful scream.
His warm blood rushes against my hand, the sensation feeling lifegiving, reminding me, strangely, of sensations I felt while I had Killian’s cock in my mouth.
“You’re not gonna make me look it up, are you?” I ask, jamming the blade farther in with a twist, a trick Dad taught me. What I feel in this moment, it’s better than sex—and it’s what Dad must’ve felt too. Pleasure in knowing what I’m doing to this fucker.
“I didn’t do anything,” he insists.
“That’s not what you said moments ago. You made it clear you did something, and I want to know what.”
“Why does it matter?”
“Because it must be terrible enough that you’re worried I’ll make this much worse for you if you tell me.”
The way his gaze meets mine assures me I’m right.
“We can let this take as long as you want, Vik.” Something else has overtaken me, a god I’ve channeled to exact this revenge as I dig into the good spot that leaves him hollering.
Music to my ears. I lean close, breathing in the scent of fear.
“I hope you do drag this out,” I whisper, “because I want to carve you up like a jack-o’-lantern. ”
And alongside the brutal pain crushing him, I see the flash of terror—he knows how serious I am.