Chapter 11
“You are so fucking beautiful, Alvin.”
Rafa’s voice is a hungry growl as he yanks open the button fly of his jeans with one hand and violently shimmies down his pants and underwear to his thighs with the hook of his right thumb.
Then he grabs both our dicks, fists them together, and smashes his mouth against mine, sucking hard on my lower lip and shoving his tongue inside me.
His cock is so wet, it’s like he’s using lube, and the friction is enough to get me at least semi-hard.
It’s all so crazy and shocking that I legit freeze for, like, ten seconds.
I mean, he’s made it clear he’s into me, but after what we’ve both just been through and who I know him to be, this doesn’t make any sense at all.
Until it does. And just a quick glance inside myself confirms it.
My monster hasn’t let go. I’m doing this to him.
“Rafa,” I get out, in between his deep, thrusting kisses. “Stop.”
He’s so wild right now, I honestly don’t expect him to listen. But he does, immediately pulling his head back and stilling his pumping hand.
His brows pinch in with sincere concern, like he’s afraid that he might have hurt me, but there is an animal-like intensity behind his eyes that bores into me. It’s like I’m seeing my monster projected out into the real world, looking back.
“Just tell me what you want,” he says, full of need. “I’ll do anything.”
This towering, muscular man is still completely in my power. The connection is like a vibrating bridge between us.
“God, I’m so sorry. This isn’t you. Just, um… Just please let me go and step back.”
I feel like such an asshole. I should have realized what I was doing and turned it off. The problem is that I don’t actually know how to do that.
Rafa immediately complies with my command, releasing our cocks and taking a full step back.
It’s not automatic like with Valiente’s power.
He doesn’t seem like a robot. He’s more like a guy in love and desperate to prove it.
His eyes remain fixed on me like I’m a tall glass of water in the middle of the desert.
And while my cock is now dead-snail soft, his is so hard, it’s practically straining out of its skin.
(It’s also probably the biggest one I’ve ever seen.) (Which I know is random, but my brain is feeling pretty freaking random at the moment!)
“Alvin,” he says, trembling in front of me, his breath ragged. “Please…”
It’s like he’s in pain. And maybe he is. Collin might have dressed up my power in flowery terms, but it’s still a form of coercion, right? At least how I just used it on Rafa back in the ritual room.
I have to put an end to this now. I sicced it on Rafa in the first place essentially by asking my monster to do it, right?
No, that’s not right. I turned it on by commanding my monster.
This power I have isn’t something separate.
It’s a part of me. Like my arm or hand. I don’t need to ask pretty please to get my legs to move. I just expect them to, and they do.
I turn inside to my hunger, my demon, and silently bark out the order, willing myself to believe it will be followed without question:
Cut it out. Let him go.
I’d like to say I don’t have any doubt when I do this, but I’m still surprised when my monster—a little grudgingly—complies. The bridge of heat and desire between me and Rafa caves in like it was made of sand. After a moment, it blows away completely.
Rafa squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head, like he’s a punch-drunk boxer trying to recover from a KO.
“Uff,” he grunts.
His knee starts to buckle, and I step in to support his shoulder.
“I’m so sorry, Rafa,” I say. “I needed to try to get you and the kids out of there, and the only thing I could think of was using my power. But then we had to fight those vampires, and I totally forgot to turn it off.”
“Your power?” he asks, looking down at me with squinted eyes, confused.
I sigh, feeling stupid and embarrassed. I really did a number on him. “My incubus power. I don’t actually know 100% how it works, so-—”
His arm sweeps around so quickly, I don’t even catch the movement until he’s slammed the back of my neck against the wall next to the door, his hand strangling my throat.
His whole expression has in an instant transformed from lovesick boy to snarling hate. And he’s cut off almost all the air to my lungs.
“How long?” he snarls. “How long have you been using your power on me?!”
“Just-just… now…” I choke out, terrified of what he’s suddenly turned into.
“Liar!” He’s so angry, he’s baring his teeth. He tightens his grip. I start to see purple flashes on the edges of my vision.
“I’m… not…” I squeak out, suffocating, unable to complete the words. Tears well up in my eyes. He looks like he absolutely despises me.
His gaze flicks to a teardrop as it crests my lower lid and spills down my cheek. For a moment, it seems to infuriate him even more.
Then he lets go and I collapse to my knees, wheezing in breath.
“If you try anything on me, I’ll know, and I won’t hesitate to kill you.” He yanks up his pants, which of course were down the whole time he was strangling me. Both our pants, actually. It might be a funny image, if it wasn’t so messed up.
I just crouch, bare-assed, head bowed, tears silently streaming down my face.
God! This is all just too much! The last batshit straw.
I can’t look at him. Not after everything I’ve screwed up.
Not with him hating me like this. Yeah, I knew he was a Monster Hunter, but I honestly believed we’d become friends, and I’ve never really had one of those before.
You know, because of what I am.
I can feel him glaring down. “You’ve been lying to me this whole time, haven’t you? Laughing at the idiot Hunter, who’s been acting like this big hero rescuing you! Were you ever going to tell me, or were you just having too much fun?”
“I thought you knew what I was.” My voice is barely a whisper. I’m sniffling. “You said you knew…”
“I thought you were fae—at least in part—not a literal soul-sucking demon!” he exclaims.
That gets me to glance up. The clear bafflement on my face gets him to continue.
He thrusts his palm down in my direction, like he made the most obvious conclusion in the world.
“You were mixed up with an elf prince. You spoke to invisible creatures. You cast magic without runes. You could see in the dark.” He folds his arms and glares up at the ceiling. “Even your name was this huge clue!”
That gets me to scrunch my brows even further. “What about my name?”
“Alvin! It means ‘elf friend.’”
It’s such a stupid coincidence that I almost laugh. Almost.
“I think…” I suck in some wayward snot. “I think my mom just liked the chipmunks. Or maybe she thought I looked like one as a baby or whatever…”
There’s a pause, and then he huffs out a legit chuckle at that. But he’s shaking his head slowly, jaw tight, and rolling his eyes, like he’s still really pissed off.
“Is it okay if I stand and pull my pants up?” If he’s going to kill me, I don’t want him to do it with my dingus hanging out.
“No sudden moves” is his cold reply.
I nod and slide up against the wall to my feet. I’m still pretty shaky. My neck stings and aches. I drag my boxer briefs and sweats up to my belly. The elastic waistband of my underwear is torn, so it doesn’t want to stay.
He examines me like I’m cockroach that just crawled across his dinner. “I should kill you. You are dangerous.”
A couple days ago, I would have agreed with him.
About the dangerous part, anyway. With Collin, though, it really felt like I could be something better.
That I could be a force for good or whatever.
But he’s not around anymore—because I gave him to an even bigger monster who’s going to use him to end the world.
I don’t say anything.
“Was any of it real?” Rafa meets my eyes, and a hint of vulnerability shows in his expression.
I shrug, helpless. “I wanted to save Emma. I thought you were my friend.”
That word—friend—gets another tight-jawed headshake from him.
“God damn you. You’ve got me so fucked up, I don’t even know what to think!” He lunges forward and brings his lips to growl in my ear. “But I swear to God, if I ever see you again, I will be armed, and I won’t think twice. Do you understand me?”
I nod and sniffle again. Miserable.
He grabs my shoulder in his large hand and, for a second, I believe he might be winding up a punch. But he just shoves me back against the wall and goes for the door.
As he walks through, I pull it enough together to say, “You shouldn’t leave the office wards. You’re hurt. It’s still night, and your father might try to find you.”
He pauses for a beat, shoulders tense. Then he stalks off down the hallway and doesn’t look back.
And I let him. Because there really isn’t any good that I can do. That much is now crystal clear.
I close the door and stagger back into the office, face hot, tummy trembling, hands shaking. My breath shudders in and out, quick, shallow, and ragged. Then I collapse belly-first onto the couch to bury my face deep in the crook of my elbow.
And no longer able to help myself, I sob and sob like a stupid baby, until exhaustion forces me to sleep.