Chapter 5
FIVE
Cian
I stood below the fire escape outside my apartment and inhaled nicotine like it wasn’t actively shortening my lifespan.
I hadn’t walked into that shed planning to put my dick anywhere near that devil.
I couldn’t fully explain how it had gotten there.
One minute, my fingers were in his mouth.
The next, I’d replaced them with my cock and gone into full fuck-or-die mode.
It had just… happened. Shit like that never just happened to me.
I wasn’t a fuckboy like Mads, who was always elbow-deep in pussy and probably had at least ten illegitimate kids running around somewhere.
I didn’t have a lineup of people wanting to fuck my ugly mug.
And I wasn’t charming. Most strangers thought I was cold and unapproachable.
Men saw me as a rough, one-night stand. Women wanted a story about sleeping with a bad boy.
I was not what anyone would call keeper material.
But when I did hook up, I used condoms and was on PrEP.
Never in a million years did I think I’d lose my mind enough to skull-fuck the man who killed my father.
Devlin pushed all my buttons. I hated him, and yet I was drawn to him anyway. This was a brand-new situation for me. A puzzle with pieces that didn’t fit. I’d always been in control of who aroused me. Not that I was that picky, but I did have to find the person at least remotely likable.
But Devlin was different. I loathed him. I wanted to fuck him. It made no sense. I was in unfamiliar territory here.
I replayed our interaction over and over in my head.
I’d never in my life forced anyone into anything sexual, but what just happened was consensually murky at best. I tried to rationalize that I’d given him an out.
He could have refused. He could have clamped his mouth shut and shook his head, and my cock would never have left my pants.
But that little shit had tempted me. I had all the power here.
He was my prisoner, and I held the key to his chains.
Yet in that moment, he could have ended it. And he didn’t.
I liked my sex rough, but I’d never been that rough before.
I’d always held back with my hookups. And that was really all I let myself have.
This life wasn’t built for relationships.
But with Devlin, I’d let my baser instincts take the lead, which had me coming so hard down his throat that I’d nearly blacked out…
And fuck I was hard again just thinking about it.
His tears, his spit, the way he’d been rock hard throughout the entire thing.
I’d pushed him, and he’d taken it all.
I’d left him in the shed with no food, no water, and his hands cuffed behind his back. I needed to correct that. But sending in Mads or Hack meant they’d witness the aftermath. The shed probably reeked like jizz, and the devil would still bear my marks on his face and throat.
A few hours had passed, and I’d spent most of that time chain smoking and barking orders at random members of the crew. I’d avoided Rhys, because he could always see right through me. Luckily, he was across the street at O'Shea’s signing for deliveries. Otherwise, I’d be in deep shit.
A door opened, then shut. I glanced up to find Jace walking toward me. I discreetly nudged the paper bag at my feet out of sight as he joined me and leaned against the wall. It had been a few days since he’d tried to stab Devlin, and he’d been trying to make up for it by being agreeable ever since.
“I finished stocking early.” He pushed his sunglasses into his hair and squinted at me. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I said, because that was what I always said.
Jace lifted an eyebrow in disbelief. “I heard about Tyson’s delivery.”
I clamped my lips around my cigarette and took another drag.
Tyson was one of my crew’s high-ranking officers, who’d recently been ambushed during a gun delivery.
By the fucking Bonnams. He’d managed to get away from them unharmed, but they stole our entire shipment.
They were getting bolder. And I was distracted by a devil in a shed.
“We need to hit them back,” Jace was saying. “Did you get anything from the devil yet?”
Yeah. Good head. I blew out a stream of smoke. I scratched my chin. “No.”
“Look. I know I already blew your trust when it comes to Walsh,” he said, as he stepped closer. “But you don’t have to handle this on your own.”
I dropped my cigarette on the ground and stomped on it. “I have it handled.”
I didn’t have it handled. Not one bit.
He studied me for a moment, standing just a little too close, and I glared back in warning. He was undeterred, of course. Jace knew I’d die before I ever hurt him. He chewed on his lower lip. “You can open up to me, you know.”
I rolled my eyes. “Here we go again—”
“I’m just saying!” He threw up his hands. “You have me. You have Rhys. You have an entire crew you can ask for help. Instead, you’ve been out here chain-smoking for the last hour.”
“It’s been forty-five minutes.” I made a show of lighting another cigarette and took a long drag. Then I blew the smoke right in his face.
He waved away the nicotine cloud and narrowed his eyes. “Fuck you.”
“What do you want me to say?”
He shook his head and looked away, jaw clenched, clearly done with me. “Whatever, Cian.”
I searched my limited mental database for how to deal with someone frustrated with me. I settled on my typical rote response, “I appreciate the offer. I’ll let you know if I need you.”
His answer was a side-eye.
I tried to smile, and he just snorted. “Fine.” He tipped his head toward the door. “You coming inside? Randy’s got dinner almost done.” Randy was our cook over at O’Shea’s, and he made meals for the crew inside Frank as well.
“In a minute. Gotta check on the devil again.”
He frowned at that. “Weren’t you in there earlier?”
“I was.” I didn’t elaborate. “You gonna be around tonight?”
He grinned at my question. “Why, you wanna come to Maxie’s with me?
” The nearest town, Brighton, had a university—and Jace had a reputation for turning up at the parties and bars there.
The college girls loved him. Jace and I might share the same father, but he took after his mother.
I’d never met her, but she must have been beautiful.
“Not even a little,” I said.
He laughed. “Good, because you’re a terrible wingman. You just scare the girls. You’re only useful on graduation weekend, when the divorced moms are in town.”
He wasn’t wrong. Especially the older women who were fresh on the market. A few divorced dads, too. Though most of them needed a few drinks before my ugly face started looking a little better. I was exactly the kind of townie you fuck and forget. “So? You around?”
Jace shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, taking the night off.”
“Let’s play poker later,” I said. “Tell Rhys.”
That made him grin even wider. We hadn’t spent much quality time together lately. “Will do.”
Once Jace had disappeared inside Frank, I let out a deep breath and squinted up at the sky. The sun was setting—it would be dark in an hour or so. I had to deal with the devil now.
With a frustrated huff, I snatched up the paper bag I’d filled with supplies and made my way to the shed.
The cool evening breeze raised goosebumps on my arms as I walked, and each step echoed in my skull.
But the worst part was the way my cock twitched in my pants at the thought of meeting Devlin’s eyes again.
“Fuck this all to hell,” I grumbled to myself as I reached the shed. I placed my hand on the latch, took a deep breath, and swung the door open.
Devlin sat on the edge of the cot, head tipped back against the wall, eyes half-shut. The moment he noticed me, he sat up straight, feet hitting the floor.
I was right about the shed—it absolutely reeked of sex, sweat, and bad decisions. I’d wondered if I would be greeted by a Devlin full of regret and shame. A devil cowed. Instead, his bright green eyes met mine in a challenge that made my balls tighten.
I repositioned his cuffs to the front, careful not to touch him any more than necessary, and watched as he gulped down the water I gave him.
As he took a few bites of a protein bar, my gaze wandered down to his lap.
His jeans weren’t stained, which meant he hadn’t come.
The odd stirring in my gut felt suspiciously like pride at how well he’d obeyed.
The chain connecting him to the cot rattled as he tossed the empty wrapper to the side. Then he leaned back, studying me. “What’s your name?”
I hadn’t even thought to tell him before—it hadn’t been relevant. But now I wanted him to know exactly who owned him. “Cian.”
A slow, almost dream-like smile spread across his face, and it made my hair stand on end. “Cian.” He drew the two syllables out, ‘key-en,’ long and slow. The word was like a tongue on my dick.
Focus, Cian.
“What route did the Bonnams use when they ran guns for you?”
He rolled his eyes. “Fuck. This again? You’re like a broken record.”
“I told you, devil. You’ll lose if you play this game.”
He shrugged. “Maybe, but what really matters is we both have fun.” He said the last three words with a bright affect, like a high school cheerleading coach.
I thought about decking him right then and there. Instead, I leaned down into his personal space and braced one hand on the edge of the cot near his hip. With the other, I reached between Devlin’s legs and squeezed his balls.
He let out a choked gasp and slammed back against the wall on instinct, trying to escape the pain.
But I was there. I was everywhere. And I squeezed harder the more he squirmed.
I fucking loved seeing him like this—scared and aroused and completely dependent on me for relief from both. The power made my blood run hot.