Chapter 6
There was a very good chance Ares Major wasn’t all there in the head.
In fact, as time went on, Eden was willing to put money on it. Breaking and entering was one thing, but discovering that the new shareholder was also the man responsible for what had taken place at the boathouse…To say he was confused would be an understatement.
Add that to the fact that Eden couldn’t for the life of him—and maybe even literally, at this point—tell if there was a sexual attraction between them, or if he was imagining things.
He shouldn’t be attracted to Ares, that was for certain, but he couldn’t control his dick, as frustrating as that was.
How absolutely mortifying would it be if the Black Hart didn’t feel the same, though?
“How did you know about Galen Stone?” Eden figured since he was finally face-to-face with Lucifer, he may as well get answers to the questions that’d been burning holes in his brain. “Was that because of hacking as well? Have you been spying on me?”
“Reconnaissance is important,” Ares said. “I don’t start anything I don’t think I can finish. Does that bother you?”
“Finding out that my privacy has been completely invaded?” he snorted. “Not at all.”
“That’s sarcasm.”
“Aren’t you a genius.”
“Yes, actually.”
Well, shit. That wasn’t too surprising. All of the Black Harts were said to be intelligent bastards.
“You targeted me just because you like Ransom?” Eden had to think smart himself.
Was there a chance he could use this to his advantage?
So far, Ares had roughed him up a bit, but he hadn’t hurt him, not really.
There was the whole murdering Galen thing, sure, but if everything he said about the investigator was true, the asshole had deserved that bullet.
No, he’d deserved worse.
If that made Eden a monster? Who fucking cared. He’d stopped being the kind and caring version of himself the night his family was killed.
Maybe this was an opportunity. Alone, Eden was powerless, but a Black Hart…
“I told you,” Ares corrected, unabashedly, “I don’t just like him. I love Ransom.”
Eden quirked a brow. “You know he isn’t real, right?”
“You’re real.”
“Ah,” he chuckled humorlessly, “so you’re settling for the next best thing.”
“That’s right.”
Damn, that shouldn’t sting, but it did. Eden momentarily dropped his gaze and recollected himself, not wanting the other man to see. He couldn’t give Ares that type of power, especially since he already held most of the cards.
“Can I call you Starling?” Ares asked.
“That’s Ransom’s nickname, not mine.” Maybe he shouldn’t be pushing this. If Eden played along, it’d probably be more beneficial for him in the short term.
But what about the long term?
He wasn’t a complete idiot. No one controlled a Black Hart, and Ares already seemed off his rocker, which meant he was most likely even more sporadic and unhinged than the rest of them. If this was nothing but a game to him, what happened when they came to the end? What did Ares get if he won?
And what did Eden lose?
“It may have been yours,” Ares disagreed. “We can’t be sure. Reality is tricky that way. Why did Yarrow choose it for you in the first place?”
“Something about mythology, I don’t know.” He shrugged. “What does it matter?”
The Black Hart seemed disappointed, but he didn’t force the issue. “We’ll save that for later then. Let’s talk about the nickname you gave me instead. Lucifer?”
“What about it?” He refused to be embarrassed.
“That’s me?”
“It’s just what I’ve been calling you in my head. It’s not like you left me your name the other night. It’s fitting though, don’t you think?”
“How so?”
“Oh, I don’t know, that stupid angelic face and the demonic ways you spend your free time kind of paints a devilish picture.” Eden made a face when Ares tipped his head thoughtfully. “Come on. There’s no way you’ve never been compared to a fallen angel before.”
“The Pantheon of Light on Usurn doesn’t contain a Lucifer,” Ares pointed out.
“That’s a shitty excuse. Lucifer is the oldest devil in the book. Everyone knows about him, even if he’s not part of the most popular religion in the universe.”
“My name derives from that of an ancient war god on a planet far away.”
“You saying you’re the god of war instead?”
Ares' brow furrowed. “I’m the God of Creation.”
…Okay…
“Careful, you say that to the wrong person and they’ll start thinking you believe it.” Eden cleared his throat, feeling like they were veering too far off course. “Whatever, I’m calling you Lucifer. If you don’t like it, stop calling me Ransom or Starling.”
Ares pursed his lips. “Lucifer is fine.”
Eden rolled his eyes. “Untie me.”
“All right.”
“Really?”
“I only restrained you so I could tend to your injuries,” Ares explained. “I knew you’d fight back if I didn’t.” He glanced toward the kitchen, where Eden’s multi-slate was visible on the counter. “Feel free to call the police if you’d like. I won’t stop you.”
“Why not?” A sinking feeling entered his gut, and maintaining eye contact was all he managed to do to cover his reaction.
“Perception,” he replied. “That’s all there’s ever been, and all there ever will be.
People don’t care about things like the truth or reality, they care about how they perceive things.
How they themselves are perceived. I’m Ares Major.
Calling anyone short of Zar Corbett will get you nowhere.
No one will stand against me. My perception is law. ”
“Who is Zar?” And why did Eden instantly dislike him?
“It depends on who you ask.”
“I’m asking you.”
Ares paused, and Eden didn’t like the way he was looking at him, like he was trying to dig under his skin. “Are you jealous, Starling?”
“That’s absurd.” Eden tugged pointedly at his bindings. “Untie me already.”
“No,” his voice took on a low rumble, contemplative, “I don’t think I will anymore.”
“That’s not funny.”
Ares crouched in front of him, careful to maintain enough distance that Eden couldn’t touch him no matter how hard he stretched against the ropes. Even his ankles had been secured to the legs of the chair.
He’d gone through a lot more trouble restraining Eden than he had with Galen.
That realization gave him pause.
“Was it on purpose?” he found himself asking before his mind could catch up to his mouth. When Ares gave him a silent look to continue, he elaborated. “Did you want Galen to come at me like that at the boathouse?”
“What makes you say that?”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Mine first. You haven’t told me if you’ve decided to work with me or not. If the answer is yes,” Ares suddenly reached out and trailed the tips of his fingers across the top of Eden’s left thigh, causing him to shiver, “you’ve got a payment to make.”
“And if my answer is no?” Eden hated how breathy he sounded, but it couldn’t be helped.
Ares pulled away. “Then we’ll consider Galen Stone my gift to you, and I’ll be on my way.”
“…That’s it?”
“What else would there be? If you don’t want my help, I can’t force you to accept it.” Ares chuckled when Eden gave him a droll stare. “Okay. I meant I won’t force you. Even if you’d like that.”
“I wouldn’t—” Eden sucked in a sharp breath when Ares tipped his chin down to the spot between Eden’s thighs, and it finally occurred to him he was basically naked.
The robe was parted enough for all his bits to be on full display, meaning his semi-hardon was impossible to miss.
Shit. How long had it been like that?
“Stupid dick,” Eden grumbled, gasping a second time when Ares suddenly shifted into a kneeling position and dropped a hand to each of Eden’s knees.
He didn’t resist as his thighs were parted, mind blanking as the Black Hart leaned up and nipped lightly at his bottom lip.
It wasn’t enough to be considered a kiss, but the teasing glimmer in Ares’ red eyes promised more to come.
What did Eden have to do to get to feel that mouth on his for real?
“I think you might be broken,” Ares said, and it should have been insulting, but with his hands rubbing up Eden’s thighs, drawing ever nearer to where his dick was lengthening, it was hard for him to find the anger. “That’s okay, all the best things are.”
“I can explain.” Could he? Eden wasn’t even sure what they were talking about anymore.
“I don’t care about explanations,” he replied. “Psychoanalysis doesn’t matter to me. It won’t change anything. It won’t make you react any differently than you are right now. Since your reality is set, who cares how you got here? Who cares how you choose to cope with your traumas?”
“I don’t have trauma.”
Ares smirked. “We’ve all got trauma, babe.”
Babe.
“Even you?”
He grunted. “Especially me.”
Eden’s lips parted when Ares’ thumbs stroked against the sensitive flesh of his inner thighs, only inches from his sack. He shifted forward on the seat, but the Black Hart pulled his hands away, gliding them back the way they’d come, until his palms settled over Eden’s knees once more.
“What if I want an explanation?” It was like being drawn to a magnet. Eden could barely register his own words, too hyperfixated on Ares’ touch.
“For?”
“This.” He had to focus! He couldn’t succumb to the Black Hart’s ministrations this easily. Eden wasn’t some sex starved freak. He—
Moaned when Ares started the ascent up his thighs again, movements slower this time.
“The short version?” Lucifer spoke, and Eden’s head dropped back, eyes slipping shut when a thumb pressed against his taint tauntingly. “Vanity has been my touchstone for a while, but why should I settle for pixelations if I can have the real thing?”
“I’m not—”
Ares hushed him. “Whoever you are, there’s a debt you should pay, don’t you agree? I brought you Galen Stone on a silver platter and uncovered the truth of his deception for you. Surely that deserves a reward.”