Chapter 8 DONOVAN
I marched back to the changing stall with force, seeing Artemis stood there for everyone to see his naked body, especially when he was hard. It’s what I’d had in mind, I couldn’t lie, I wanted him to want me, still, after everything, and here he was demanding it.
Back into the stall, Artemis’s chest was going wild as he held his tongue, trying his best not to say something. All those nights sleeping on the hard floor, showering on his hand and knees, forced to eat what he was told. He was absolutely mine.
“You don’t make demands,” I told him.
“You took my towel.” He snatched it out of my grasp. “And—and—” His eyes looking me up and down.
“You’ve seen me naked most days,” I said. “Come on. What’s gotten you all hot and bothered?” I placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed it up to his neck where it took hold. “You need to shave.”
“No,” he growled. “I want you to fuck me.”
“Here?” I asked. “Drop my towel, and get on your knees.”
After dropping the towel, I let got of him and he went down to his knees. My cock practically slapping him in the face, and every time he reached for it, I shook my head. “Please.”
“Ok, we’re finally getting somewhere,” I said.
“Please, Sir, can I touch your cock?”
“Of course, deep throat it.”
There was no working down from the tip with gentle licks, he took my entire cock to the back of his throat and he was so good, not letting his teeth make too much contact.
His tongue, however, was working overtime like he was trying to make a heart from a cherry stem, he was doing tricks on my shaft.
I rested a hand on the back of his head as he went to town, sucking me off. His heart rate monitor on the tablet was a quiet beeping now, used to it like an echo on the floor with my clothes.
“Fuck me,” he begged again.
Shaking my head, he repeated himself, adding my honorifics. Sir, Master, Daddy. At that point, I had him sat on the bench with his legs as far up as they’d go. He sucked one, then two fingers, each time I twisted them gently inside his ass, opening him.
“No touching,” I said as he reached for his cock. “It’s mine.”
“Yes, Sir—Daddy.”
Taking him by the back of the neck, I pulled him into the pretzel shape I’d made of his body and kissed him. My tongue didn’t need to fight for space, he was submissive to it, wanting it. My tongue was approval, and he was giving my the tour.
While kissing him, I positioned my cock against the spit-lubed ass.
It went in with ease. My hand took his cock and as I pumped myself into him, I jerked him off, like it was a joystick and I was desperate to get the combo attack shot.
Down, up, down, up, squeeze, squeeze, down, up, then spit on it.
Artemis didn’t last long—I hadn’t let him touch himself at all, and from my tablet, this was the first time he was cumming in weeks.
He shot his load and kept on cumming. From kissing him, I found droplets of cum had splashed against his chin.
I licked it clean while I went balls deep inside him until he was ready for the honor that came with my load.
* * *
He wasn’t ready for the job. I could do it alone, it was an easy gig, delivering washed cash to the client.
I’d done it so many times, always alone, and always without a hitch.
Artemis being attached to the job was unpredictable, it was impossible to know how he was going to be out there in the world.
In my apartment, I sat on the sofa reading the file over.
Artemis was on his knees in front of me, back to being obedient. I glanced to him occasionally from the file. The one thing I didn’t want was him in the line of fire—him being here was all my fault to begin with—it was me to blame if he was hurt. No if, ands, or buts about it. He was mine.
“We have three days to get you ready,” I told him, snapping the file shut. “Three days. Do you think you can do it?”
He nodded. “Can I know what it’s for?”
I tightened my grip on the file for a moment. “I know it might not mean much, but you’re gonna learn quick, big numbers aren’t always so impressive, and you’ll be signing your own death warrant if you steal—from both sides, Mercy by name, but not by nature, you don’t want to get on her bad side.”
“I’m not gonna steal,” he said, his brows coming together angrily. “I—” His face eased as he nodded. “I’m a professional. Can I look at the file?”
I patted the seat on the sofa. “Five minutes,” I told him. “Familiarize yourself with names and numbers quick.”
The file was to deliver 2.8 million dollars in clean bills to the Bianchi family in Boston. With their father recently passing away, the three brothers took the mantel, working together to cement themselves in the community as the bosses. This money was just what they needed.
“What kind of crime do they do?” he asked after only a moment with the file open.
There were a lot of crime families and some of them were into some heinous shit.
I always tried to keep a moral obligation not to get involved in anything where innocent people were fucked over.
“Gambling, money laundering, except for this sum which they had Mercy wash. Known loan sharks, and they have a pay for protection thing—code for extortion.”
He stared at the file. “Why so much money?”
“Father’s will, I think.” I shrugged. It was just a guess. “We don’t ask question on where the money is from, in fact, we don’t ask questions at all for these types of jobs. Questions get you killed.”
Art gulped, and I wanted to pat him and tell him that wouldn’t happen to him.
It drove me crazy how my feeling wouldn’t switch off when they needed to.
I was a stone-cold killer, yet Artemis was making me feel all deflated and floppy.
I just wanted to grab him by the face, squeeze his cheeks—and probably tell him to shave again—which he never did, the one time I let him disobey me because he did look good with the scruff, but it wasn’t what I wanted to feel.
“Are you ok?” he asked, all doe eyed and innocent looking. “I’m excited we’re getting to go out. It says here we get comms and an assault belt.”
“Gun and knife,” I said, plainly. I was already sending him mixed signals with the fucking, I couldn’t show him the side to me I’d tried hard to erase from his mind—but it existed in mine with every cool wind against my neck—I remembered those nights in the warm air, no air conditioning but we didn’t care that our warm bodies were sticking together. “You seen enough?”
“Yep, pretty simple,” he said, handing it to me. “Three hour drive, unload the money, and drive back. Simple.”
* * *
Forcing Art to get on the punching bag harder than ever, then straight into arms training. He was far from a sharpshooter, but gone were the days I remembered of him flinching whenever my gun was on show. Those days were long gone, and I still only had myself to blame.
As I watched with a forced smile, Art landing another punch on the bag. I could see his lips moving as if he was cussing me out or something, I didn’t blame him, I was being tough on him for a reason. And he was going to have to suck it up, because this was all different now.
“A killer hook can make the difference between you stunning your opponent and then getting an uppercut in on the sneak,” I told him. “It can change an outcome if timing is perfect. Don’t be afraid to break their nose.”
Sweat dripped off him as he pounded the bag, and on the recoil of his arm, it flicked against me.
Slamming a fist and sending the bag on a tilt, which came back with the same force.
He ducked it, weaved between it, and punched it again.
“How was that?” he asked, wiping back the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hands in blood-sweat soaked wraps.
“Good,” I said. “You’re no longer hesitating and actually going in with force on the jab. Go shower, I’m not letting you touch a gun with those hands.”
The armory in Sanctum was officially the only place weapons were allowed.
It was heavily guarded by Mercy’s fairies, but while there, you could use most weapons and train with them.
I was a fan of a nice handgun, there was control in it, I didn’t pull my gun out if I wasn’t going to use it, and when I was about to—run. I was a good shot.
Artemis was eager about everything, eager to shoot, eager to punch, eager to be the picture of obedience for me.
I wondered if it was a performance, or whether he was actually submitting completely.
I didn’t believe it for a second, there’s a reason Mercy wanted him here to train as one of her pets.
I must’ve seen it first, the way he could switch from sweet to sass.
I just assumed it was because he was a Gemini, which he would always go on about—and yet, I hadn’t heard a peep about his astrology hoodoo bull since being down here.
We took to the shooting range, using Glock 19s since that’s what we’d be taking with us.
While it was a low risk job, according to the hierarchy of things here.
And once more, he surprised me, hitting some close bullseye shots.
He’d done it before with me breathing down his neck, and maybe I’d pushed him too hard with the bag so his hand’s weren’t reflexing properly.
As the paper came flying forward for us to check the bullet holes, we pulled the protective earmuffs off. And Artemis looked at me with a big grin. “So, how did I do?” he asked.
“Standard,” I said. “I’d prefer it if we’re ever in a hostage situation and you’re the only one with a shot, don’t take it.”
He rolled his eyes. “Ok. Then show me what you can do.”
“You’ve seen what I can do, but if you want me to show you up, maybe punishment for that little eyeroll thing you just did at me,” I said.
“I’m not saying it to be mean, I’m saying it to save my life.
These couple inches off you were.” Gesturing to the holes on the paper.
“That could be the difference between life and death.”
An annoying smirk formed across his lips. “So, what you’re saying is, you might end up a hostage at one point, and I could be the only thing to save you,” he said, beaming with the idea. “Because I would try, but now that I know my aim is off, maybe I won’t try too hard.”
“Firstly, I’d never end up—” He cut me off as he put the protective ear gear on again. He’d hear, but muffled. “By all means, go again. And let’s wager it, if you come out of the fatality zone, I get Mercy to remove you from the delivery job.”
He reloaded the gun, slamming the mag into it. “Deal,” he grumbled as I put the muffs over my ears again.
After firing the entire mag into the paper, it came flying toward us, and he’d done a good job. My threat was baseless anyway, Mercy wouldn’t have any of it, she wanted Art on this job, she wanted to see how much he’d learned.
“Good job.” I gave it to him with a pat on the shoulder.
“Thank you.” He shimmied. “I do have a question.”
“Ask it.”
“Can I sleep in my own bed tonight?” he asked. “As much as I like sleeping on your floor, Sir, I think a good night of sleep would help me prepare for the job tomorrow.”
I loved having him in my room on the floor.
The tile was padded out some with the blankets he’d laid down, but I wasn’t going to keep him there forever, even if I did think eventually he’d graduate into my bed again—a thought I always dismissed because we weren’t those people anymore, we weren’t a couple.
“Ok, I think a good night of sleep is important. Same rules apply. No touching yourself. No taking off your ring. And I want eight hours of sleep. You wake up at 6 sharp. Got it.”
“Got it.” He nodded. “Can I also take the file to look over everything?”
“Yes. But don’t lose it. It includes a list of items we need from the armory in the morning.”
“I wanna learn more about this family we’re delivering too as well,” he said.
“Don’t dig too deep,” my voice breaking slightly. “They’re not involved in anything you’d want to kill them for, but their family has a past.”
The Bianchi family were now three brothers, one of them adopted, but if you ever dared say anything about it, they’d pull you down into some dirty old cellar and pour all sorts of nasty shit in your mouth as punishment for ever using it to say something against them.
I wanted Artemis to have as much information as he wanted about them, but they were a ruthless bunch.
They’ve had to be to carve their patch out in Boston.
I also knew this was an easy gig, but my gut told me something about it was going to go wrong.
If I was a rival family, the shipment of money is where I’d hit them to hurt the most.
We had to be ready. I had to be ready to see Artemis fight.