Chapter 3
Dalton
I raise my hands as cold sweat beads on my back.
"Okay, okay!" I say quickly. "No picking up.
Got it. You don't want the other guys. They're probably not gay, and will have no idea what to do. I’ve heard one of them belch all night.
Do they even have nice dicks? You don't know.
I'm a prime deal." I've never had to advertise myself like I'm a Thanksgiving turkey about to go bad, but I've got too much to lose to worry about dignity. At least it's not just me who is naked.
Corvus is so fucking beautiful it's distracting. It's like I'm hypnotized by a cobra and admiring it even though I should worry about the venom already inside me.
I don't want to die. And I like to fuck. Hopefully, I still have a chance to combine those two passions.
Corvus rolls his eyes. I don’t know what he wants from me.
I’ve been trying to nudge it out of him, and I definitely felt him tremble when I said suggestive things about him being a needy bottom.
He clenched his ass on my finger, and the vein in his neck throbbed like mad against my tongue.
He wants it. He wants a big top, and most guys like him love it when I demonstrate my strength.
That’s what they choose me for. It’s perfect foreplay, but here he is, neck stiff as a piece of wood, hands squeezed into fists so tightly it’s making the veins on his forearms bulge, lips turning pale as he presses them together.
What is up with him? His body is groomed as if he were about to star in a new underwear ad, hair neatly trimmed, skin smooth as the finest leather. Surely, he must be doing this kind of thing all the fucking time.
“I need a dick to ride, not a date to my mother’s next wedding,” Corvus says, glancing at the tray of scalpels.
I take another step back, hands still raised, because it’s as if I can read his mind. I’m the prisoner. I believe him about the poison, but I might still try to take him out before I go, and a scalpel would be perfect for a quick slash through the throat.
What he doesn’t know is that since we’re both naked and horny (his dick doesn’t lie), I’d much rather wrestle him to a mat and fuck him with my arm locked around his than kill him.
We could really both help each other, because he needs that tension fucked out of him, and I’m the man for the job.
I love to make a guy lose it. Love feeling him tremble under me, helpless moans stifled by my fingers, ass clenching around me when he comes…
I lick my lips, fighting the horny thoughts, because my life is on the line here.
“It’s all yours,” I point to my cock. “We can do it your way. I was just trying to make you happy. I know what this is.”
And yet I’m still excited to bury my dick in him. I’m a hopeless case, and he’s hotter than the hell he was born in.
If I’m to be honest, Corvus Van der Horn, the psychopathic torturer and poison specialist, is perfectly within my type with his lean yet muscular physique and deep eyes I wish to see glazing over as I enter him over and over, until he’s on the edge and begging me to finish him.
The more walls he puts up, the more I want to break them down.
And those lips… how wonderfully they would stretch around my dick.
I don’t want to die, but even if that doesn’t work out, at least I’ll go out with a bang.
Inside this beautiful lizard of a man.
His eyes narrow, lashes casting a shadow on Corvus’s cheekbones as he chews over my words. “You have one chance.”
“That’s all I need,” I say with more confidence than I currently have. “I’m clean as a daisy and ready for you. Where do you want me?”
“Daisies aren’t clean,” he grumbles and presses on the handle of the door behind him. It’s made of polished wood and appears deceptively normal, but as we pass through the threshold and the light reveals the interior, I’m surprised how well it matches the entrance.
Gone are the easy-to-clean tiles, surgical steel, and implements of torture.
Just a few steps away from the scary-fucking-chair is a study with shelves full of books, a mahogany desk, and even one of those fancy globe-shaped alcohol trolleys.
I glance at the fine rug covering the wooden floor, only to spot the one distortion in this picture-perfect room—a mattress by the radiator.
It doesn’t look like it belongs. He must have brought it here for the specific purpose of us fucking.
All this effort, just for me? I’d tease him about it if I wasn’t too afraid to walk on the thin ice he’s become.
Lube and condoms lay neatly arranged next to a single pillow.
Kinda hot. Reminds me of the setup back at my place.
I walk in, but when I reach for the globe, Corvus slaps my hand away, so I pull back with a groan. I don’t love being told what to do, but it is what it is in my position. I owe his family so much money I might as well try and give Corvus whatever he deems to be a million-dollar fuck.
“Get down there,” he says, stalling when he notices the socks still present on his feet. A sour grimace passes through his features, but he disposes of them at lightning speed and opens the top drawer of the desk as I sit down on the memory foam mattress that gently sinks under my weight.
I’m not surprised my so-called-lover keeps handcuffs at hand, but he heads my way with such conviction I find myself rolling to my back before Corvus kneels next to me.
My back hits the wall, and when he cuffs my wrists to the radiator, which is mercifully cold, I don’t have to look down to know my erection is flagging. This isn’t my thing, but hopefully I can get my mojo back if I focus on the hot guy in front of me.
“Want me to suck you?” I whisper, glancing between his legs.
His cock is as gorgeous as the rest of him.
Not as thick as mine, but that’s to be expected.
My dick is pretty special, and I own that.
When it comes to my lovers, I don’t give a damn about the size or shape of their equipment.
I lick my lips when I spot a dot of pre-cum beading at the tip of Corvus’s dick.
He smells so good too. I could bury my face in the crook of his neck and fall asleep on top of him.
I bet I’d have the wettest dreams that way.
And he’d be there when I wake up to make them come true—
I’m getting ahead of myself.
My reality is that he wants me to be a puppet for him to play with and ride. Maybe he should have just gotten himself one of those life-sized sex dolls with a steel skeleton and silicone flesh? I bet they could make him a custom version capable of thrusting up.
What does he need me for, if I’m to lie there and think of Nevada?
Corvus straddles my lap, hand reaching for my flagging cock, and while this whole setup is the evil twin of my actual desires, his touch, while cold, is soft as if he’s wearing silk gloves. My head falls back, the muscles in my thighs tense as I seek his fingers.
“I don’t want you to bite me,” Corvus whispers, trailing his free hand down my chest, his face slack and red as a ripe apple.
“How could I ever bite a cock like that?”
But I’m resigned to my fate. I get it. He has no idea who I am or what I want. I’m just glad he’s also undressed, because while I am pretty comfortable with nakedness, I’m feeling very vulnerable.
Corvus releases a doubtful laugh and brings his hips closer, rocking on top of me until the tip of his curved shaft kisses my cock.
Its slick tip leaves a trail up my length, and then his long fingers bring them together, gently squeezing both our dicks while his warm, minty breath tickles my cheek. What a sight to behold.
He’s quiet, almost eerily so, and I try to meet his gaze, hoping to find out what it is that he truly wants from me.
Being used like this only reminds me of the times men chose me for my dick then discarded me right after like I’m not even a person.
I guess I should be lucky he’s giving me a chance to live, so I force cockiness into my voice and wink.
“Like what you see?” I end up pulling on my cuffs because for a second I forgot they’re there, and I wanted to put my hands on him.
The screech of metal hitting metal makes him freeze, and his gaze meets mine, as if he expects me to deglove one of my hands for the sake of attacking him.
“You’re good-looking,” Corvus responds as the moment of tension passes, his thumb rubbing pre-cum over the sensitive tip of my cock as his balls drag over my skin.
Each thrust has his dick rubbing mine in his loose fist, and I give in, rising back to full attention, because he is still an attractive man, even though he has the eyes of a lizard.
Maybe I misjudged him when I asked him what kind of bottom he is. Maybe this is what he wants, and my approach was all wrong. Not great for me, but I can try to shift my expectations if it means he gives me the antidote to the poison.
I meet his eyes with a deep exhale. “I can be obedient too if that’s what you need.” I’m not very good at being obedient at all, but I don’t have a choice.
I’m certain he doesn’t mean the sour grimace passing through his face to show, but I’ve seen it nevertheless, and when he hides his nose in my bare shoulder, tasting me with his warm tongue, I get to smell the cloves and smoke in his hair.
Okay, that’s gonna keep me going, even though everything about… this feels awkward.
Corvus might be built like a young, muscular stallion that’s both strong and agile, but if I had my way, he would have his handsome face buried in the blanket, and I’d be teasing us both by rubbing my shaft along his cra—
He lets go of our cocks, and I almost voice my protest when he shifts on top of me, moving into a crouch. Then, my cockhead rubs along the swell of his buttock, and he releases the sweetest whimper.
At least just the sight of him has me horny enough that I stay hard.
“That’s what you’re into? Using me as your dildo?
” I whisper, looking from his cock, to his face, and back down again.
It’s not my thing, but I want him to get what he needs.
It doesn’t resonate with what he suggested to me when he first came to my cell.
Fuck me like your life depends on it.
I can’t do much like this, and we both know it.
He swallows, blue eyes pinned to my face as his cheeks darken, and when he finally looks away, strands of hair fall onto his face like the physical demonstration of his frustration.
“I’m… exploring,” he says eventually, grabbing my cock and rubbing it against smooth skin.
For a moment, his eyes flutter shut, and he moves his hips in a circle, my cockhead dipping against his entrance.
I want to be inside him so badly my dick twitches in his hand. If things do end up unfortunate for me, at least I’ll go out with a bang. I groan in pleasure, licking his body with my gaze even though I’d much rather do it with my tongue.
One more try. I’m not afraid of a slap.
“Corvus. This isn’t what you want, is it? This isn’t what turned you on in my Grindr messages.”
He keeps his eyes low, and his lashes cast long shadows over his cheekbones. He might be as expressive as a marble bust, but his body isn’t lying. My words made him rub against my cock ever so slightly, and there’s the faintest tremble to his thighs.
I am right.
He doesn’t want a living blow-up doll.
Corvus Van der Horn wants to be plowed by a man.
“I don’t get those ‘reviews’ because I have a big dick. You’re not using me to my full potential,” I add, so he can feel more in control, that he’s still the one using me. “Let me give this to you.”
I see the struggle between what he wants and what he allows himself.
He needs to give me a chance, and I’ll show him he can let go.
Just thinking about breaking through that uncaring facade gets me going all over again, because the marble of his beautiful face is cracking, and I’ve caught the glimpse of the inferno Corvus has been hiding all his life.
I might be a dumbass, but working as a bouncer has taught me to read people, to anticipate who they are and what they want.
When he looks up at last, only his gaze reveals the conflict inside. The depths of his eyes are on fire, and I know I’ve won even before hearing the soft clink of the keys.
“Fine,” he says, walls back up. “If your cock isn’t good enough to satisfy me on its own, I will give you this chance. After all, you are gambling for your survival.”
“I know. Poison. I hurt you, I die,” I add to reassure him.
He’s posturing in front of me. He’s a strong guy, I can see that in his well-trained body.
He’s hurt a lot of people, and knows how to use weapons, but…
when he ends up under me, my dick deep inside him, my arms gripping him tightly, he will be vulnerable, and we both know it.
And yet he wants it.
My brain is back on track to understanding him.
I’ll make him lose it. I’ll take that control from him, and he’ll give it up willingly.
A click of the cuffs releases my hands, the keys fall to the floor, and he stares at me, soft lips slightly parted as he inhales.
He appears shocked. Maybe he didn’t expect for this to eventually happen?
Maybe he’s scared? Of me? Or of his own desire?
Wouldn’t be the first repressed bottom I fucked.
“Yes. Without me, you die,” he responds, but there’s a tremor to his voice now, and his cock twitches, releasing a bead of pre-cum.
I reach for his thighs and glide my hands up, teasing his hairs and never breaking eye contact. “Without you, I’ll die,” I whisper, and I can’t help how it turns me on. Suddenly, I want to be inside him even more. Made immortal in a moment of bliss.
In a move well-practiced from my days in semi-professional wrestling, I lunge forward, gripping his hips and slam him back onto the mattress, me on top. As it should be.