12. Doyle
CHAPTER TWELVE
DOYLE
I thanked Matthew, Michael's dad for loaning me some clothes.
"Thanks for the change of clothes. They fit perfectly,” I said.
He gave me a nod. "You sense any of Morgan's or the black witches' presence around here?”Matthew asked.
I shook my head. "No, I don't sense their aura. They must've scattered by now,” I said.
"What do you think they want with Michael?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. "Hasn't my son gone through enough?"
“It’s hard to tell what they want but I’ll make sure nothing happens to him," I reassured him, meeting his worried gaze. "He's safe with me."
Satisfied, he nodded and stepped aside, allowing me to head upstairs to check on Michael.
I knocked gently on his door before entering, finding Michael sitting on the edge of his bed, looking lost in thought.
"Hey," I said softly, closing the door behind me. "How are you holding up?"
Michael looked up, his eyes reflecting a mix of relief and lingering fear.
"I'm okay, just... trying to process everything,” Michael answered.
I sat beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
"You're safe now, Michael. I won't let anything happen to you,” I told him.
He leaned into my embrace, the tension in his body slowly easing.
"Thank you for coming so quickly, even though we hadn’t exactly been…” he trailed off.
I pressed a kiss to his temple.
"Is there anything I can do for you? Anything to make you feel better?” I asked.
Michael looked up at me, a small, hopeful smile playing on his lips. "A kiss?”
I couldn't help but chuckle, my heart swelling with affection.
"I think I can manage that,” I told him.
I leaned in, capturing his lips in a tender kiss. The world seemed to fade away as we lost ourselves in the moment.
Michael parted his lips and I slid my tongue down his throat. When we finally pulled apart, Michael's smile had widened, his eyes brighter.
"Better?" I asked, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead.
“Not yet,” Michael said.
He slid into my lap and I automatically wrapped my arm around his waist, ensuring he wouldn’t fall off.
He looked so perfect there that I couldn’t help but kiss him again.
Sweetness exploded on my tongue. My dick dug against the zipper of my jeans and I realized I wanted so much more.
It didn’t hurt I could also smell Michael’s need. He wanted this as much as me.
“Doyle,” Michael murmured after the kiss. “I missed you so much and it hurt when you told me some distance might be good for us.”
“I regretted saying those words,” I confessed.
“Yeah?” Michael asked.
“Yeah,” I confirmed, reaching for the hem of Michael’s shirt.
He raised his hands so I could pull it off. Michael tugged my shirt off in return.
“Wait,” I said when Michael got off my lap only to take off his pants and boxers.
Seeing him fully nude, desire rooted me to the spot.
Every inch of him looked perfect and Michael was willing and eager and yet…I couldn’t take advantage of him.
Not after everything he’d been through.
“You’re not taking advantage,” Michael said.
I must’ve uttered my thoughts out loud. He continued, “and don’t think I’m doing this because I’m grateful. I want you, Doyle. Wanted you since the day you rescued me, plain and simple.”
That was all I needed to hear. For the last five years, someone else made the decisions for him.
This was the first time, he could make his own choice and I respected that.
I took off the rest of my clothes as well, and took Michael’s arm. One tug and he spilled gracefully on my lap.
Resting one arm around his body, I leaned in and hungrily kissed him.
Our bodies and dicks touched, and intense longing speared through my entire body.
Apart from William, I had never wanted anyone else so intensely.
I left kisses down the column of Michael’s throat, his collarbones, his chest. His flat nipples I sucked until he cried out in pleasure.
Smiling, I closed one hand over his cock and began stroking it.
It didn’t take long before he climaxed, painting my abs and stomach with his jizz.
I lowered Michael to the bed, my own dick thick and heavy between my legs, and my balls close to bursting.
Lying on his back, Michael looked dazed and content.
“I want you inside me, Doyle,” he murmured.
“Wait, we need lube,” I said.
“Top drawer,” Michael said, nodding to the chest of of drawers next to his bed.
I opened it and snatched the lube. Out of curiosity, I checked the expiry date.
“It’s um, new. I bought it a week ago, thinking…well. Thinking things might turn out like this,” Michael said, blushing furiously.
“It’s good to be prepared,” I agreed.
“How do you want me?” Michael asked, getting over his initial nervousness.
I liked that, liked how he knew what he wanted and went for it.
“On fours,” I said. Michael positioned himself at the edge of the bed and parted his legs.
I squeezed a generous amount of lube inside his ass and prepped him for access, all the while Michael groaned and panted.
“Love, I need you to be a little bit more quiet. We can’t have your dad suddenly running in here,” I reminded him gently.
“I’ll try,” Michael promised.
Once he was ready, I gripped his hips and entered him, slow and steady.
Michael buried his face into the comforter to muffle his moans.
Once I was balls deep inside him, I asked, “you good?”
“Ride me,” Michael begged and I did.
I started on a slow rhythm, before picking up the pace. Pretty soon, both of us were drenched in sweat, panting like needy animals.
Each time I entered Michael, it felt like a he donated a piece of his soul to patch up my fractured one.
My inner dragon growled in triumph inside me as I continued plowing Michael.
I changed the angle of my thrusts and judging by the way Michael arched his back and whimpered, I found his sweet spot.
I aimed for it repeatedly until we were both spent. At my next entry, I came, filling his ass with my seed.
Michael came again for the second time that evening, panting as he collapsed on the sheets.
I slid out of him, grabbed a few tissues from a nearby box to clean us both up, before settling next to him.
We ended up cuddling afterwards.
Michael nestled against my chest, his warmth a soothing presence against the turmoil swirling within me.
I held him close, one hand gently stroking his hair.
"I need to tell you what happened," Michael began, his voice barely above a whisper. "The decoy car, Morgan snatching me up...”
I tightened my embrace, feeling a surge of protectiveness.
"You don't have to talk about it tonight," I reminded him gently. "We can take it slow."
"I want to," Michael insisted, his voice gaining strength. "I need to."
I nodded, my heart aching for him.
"Okay. I'm here. Tell me everything,” I said.
As he began recounting the events, my anger grew with each word he spoke.
The thought of him being in danger, the fear he must have felt—it all ignited a fire within me.
My inner dragon roared, demanding retribution. This wouldn't have happened if I had been around.
But I couldn't blame his dad for wanting to keep him close, for thinking he could protect Michael on his own.
Still, the fact remained: we were lucky this time. Morgan had only taken Michael for a ride, but why? What was their real intention?
As Michael continued, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease. The black magic users hadn't acted out of the kindness of their hearts.
There had to be something more, a deeper motive we weren't seeing yet.
Disturbed, I tightened my embrace, trying to find solace in the fact that Michael was here, safe in my arms.
He rested his head on my shoulder, his breathing steadying as he relaxed against me.
One thing was certain—Michael wasn't safe here, not anymore.
I glanced down at him, my mind racing. How was I going to convince his dad that the best way to keep Michael safe was to take him away?
To bring him somewhere far from Liliana's reach?
"Michael," I began softly, trying to find the right words. "We need to talk about something important."
He looked up at me, concern etched on his face. "What is it?"
"I don't think it's safe for you to stay here," I said, my voice steady. "Morgan and Liliana's people know where you are. They won't stop. We need to get you somewhere safe, away from here."
Michael's eyes widened, fear and uncertainty flickering in their depths. "But my dad..."
"I know," I interrupted gently. "I understand. But I can't protect you if you're here. We need to convince your dad that this is the only way."
He nodded slowly, the gravity of the situation sinking in.
"Okay. I'll talk to him tomorrow,” he said.
I kissed his forehead, my resolve strengthening.
"We'll talk to him together,” I said.
Michael's grip on me tightened, his trust evident in his touch. I could only hope I was worthy of his trust.
"Good morning," I greeted Matthew.
He didn't even raise his eyebrows when he saw the two of us come down together.
"Dad, let me," Michael said, taking over cooking when he noticed his dad was burning the eggs in the frying pan.
"Good morning," Matthew said, finally glancing at us.
Judging by the dark circles under his eyes, it didn't look like he'd gotten much sleep last night.
I felt a twinge of guilt about spending the night with Michael, but I quickly dismissed it.
Michael was an adult who knew exactly what he wanted. Still, it must have been hard for Michael to see his old man like this.
"I can make coffee," I offered.
"That would be helpful, thanks," Michael said, then told me where I could find the beans.
Eventually, breakfast was ready, and the three of us sat down at the small kitchen table.
I was mentally prepared for the difficult and somewhat awkward conversation we were about to have.
Michael's dad wasn't my biggest fan, that was made clear to me when he confronted me at the shop after I took Michael out for lunch.
Yet, this same man had called me when Morgan had taken Michael, I reminded myself.
He had his pride, but he was willing to set that aside if it meant keeping his son safe.
"Dad, Doyle and I were talking last night," Michael said after everyone had taken a few bites.
Michael hesitated, unsure how to continue, then glanced at me.
I took a deep breath and explained, "We believe Michael would be safer in Sky Stead. These black magic users wouldn’t dare encroach on territory protected by my pack. We can ensure his safety."
I had more reasons ready to counter whatever arguments Michael's dad might come up with, but to my surprise, he only nodded.
"That seems like the best solution," he said, much to Michael's and my surprise.
He looked at Michael, the pain on his face obvious. Matthew continued, “Michael, what happened yesterday really shook me to the core. It's a difficult decision to make, but I know it's the right one. Doyle and his kin can protect you better than I ever could."
The relief on Michael's face was palpable, but there was also a hint of sadness.
"Dad, I'm not leaving you behind. I just... I need to be somewhere I can be safe,” he said. “I don’t want to be a burden to you either.”
"I understand, son," his dad said, his voice thick with emotion. "I just want what's best for you."
Michael reached across the table and squeezed his dad's hand.
"We'll visit often, and I'll call every day,” Michael said.
His dad nodded, tears welling up in his eyes. "Just promise me you'll stay safe,” he said.
"I promise," Michael said, his voice breaking. He turned to me, his eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you, Doyle. For everything."
I pulled Michael into a tight embrace. “I got you, love,” I told him.
As we pulled away, Michael's dad stood up and walked over to me. He held out his hand, and I shook it firmly.
"Take care of my son," he said, his voice wavering.
"I will," I promised. “I’d give my life for him if necessary.”
“Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that,” Michael told me with a small smile.