Chapter 8
EIGHT
Cian
As soon as I let up on his neck, Devlin slid to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. He swiped the blood from his mouth and chin with his shirt sleeve and waited, bound hands resting in his lap.
“Take me out,” I ordered.
His hands shook as he pulled down the waistband of my sweatpants.
I hadn’t bothered with underwear in my rush to get outside, and my cock sprang free immediately, almost poking him in the eye.
He swallowed, then opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out.
He went still, eyes lifting to mine, and waited.
I planted my hands on the door above his head. “What’re you waiting for? Suck me.”
Something flashed across his face—maybe uncertainty—as he shuffled forward on his knees.
He grasped my sweatpants for a moment before lifting one hand to curl around my shaft.
Eyes focused on the task, Devlin closed his lips around the head of my cock and sucked.
He hollowed out his cheeks, and his tongue flicked my piercing.
He moaned and took me deeper, inch by inch, until his throat convulsed around me as he gagged.
My fingers curled into fists with the need to grab his hair and take him roughly, but he pulled off with a gasp, glancing up at me like he needed reassurance.
I didn’t want to give him anything. I wanted to insult him.
I wanted to tell him that I couldn’t come like this, then shove my cock so far down his throat it bruised.
But it was like the last twelve hours—the creek, the frog, the information, the fire—had fucked up my head.
I gently wrapped my fingers around the bottom of his chin and guided him back toward my cock. “Keep going. Get it nice and wet.”
Devlin’s eyes went hazy as he wrapped a hand around my shaft again.
Then he sucked half my cock down in one go.
His movements grew more confident, bobbing his head and slicking my shaft in his spit until wet, sloppy noises filled the apartment.
He moaned, and the sudden vibration tightened my balls.
I carded my fingers through his auburn hair, then palmed the back of his head to guide him as I started to feel the familiar spark of an oncoming orgasm.
“Faster,” I rasped. “Take me deeper, devil.”
He tried—fuck, he tried—gagging every time, throat convulsing around the head of my cock.
Devlin whimpered, and heat shot up my spine at the sound.
My balls drew up tight as my cock pulsed, and then I was spilling down his throat in a gush.
I pressed my hands against the door and locked my knees to keep from collapsing while Devlin sputtered below me, swallowing as much as he could.
I pulled back to let the last few drops flick onto his face.
My thighs trembled from the lingering adrenaline and full-body orgasm, but I managed to tug my sweatpants up with one hand.
Devlin looked at me like a puppy who’d gotten a treat.
Tears leaked from his eyes to mix with my release as he sat back on his heels, pressing cuffed hands to the bulge in his sweatpants.
Before I could question my sanity, I dropped to a crouch in front of him, spat in my hand, and wrapped my fingers around his shaft.
His skin was so hot, nearly molten, and it only took two tugs while I stared into those glowing green eyes before he was coming in his pants, mouth open on a ragged moan.
I released my grip on him before he was finished, and he let out another cry as he curled forward, body bucking through the last of his orgasm.
Devlin let out a long, satisfied hum as he practically melted into the floor—an evil little puddle of red hair and pale skin.
His eyes were closed, and the soft smile on his face was so pretty it made me irrationally angry.
I nudged him with the toe of my boot. “Get up.”
“Can’t,” he whispered, that stupid smile still in place. “No bones.”
Now that the fog had cleared a little, I could hear noise from downstairs. I rubbed my temples. My crew was still waiting for an explanation, some sort of announcement, and fuck did I not want to deal with this right now.
I clenched my jaw. “You caused me a lot of fucking problems at three in the morning.”
Less than half an hour ago, this man nearly died. Now he looked blissed out. And not very apologetic. “I’m sure you can handle it, lion king”
I pushed away from the door, wishing I could crawl into bed and forget today ever happened, then grabbed a bottle of water and chugged half of it. I held it out to Devlin, who had since flopped onto his back, and the little shit did nothing but open his mouth.
So I dumped the water on his face.
He sputtered and laughed—fucking laughed—and the husky sound made my chest tighten.
Why couldn’t he hate me? My life would be so much easier if he wasn’t into any of this. If he didn’t get hard. If he had just refused to play the game. I’d have gotten all the information I needed, and he’d already be dead.
I wouldn’t have to deal with the beast in my chest, rampaging through my veins. I wouldn’t be so obsessed with the idea of making him take my cock, or seeing him covered in my cum. I scrubbed a hand over my face as Devlin finally sat up, shaking his head and sending water droplets flying.
He shimmied backward on his ass until he was braced against the wall, wearing an easy grin like he hadn’t made my life hell. “So, what now?”
“What now? Jesus Christ… ‘What now?' he asks.” I turned and tossed the empty water bottle in the trash. “How about you go sit in the corner and think about what you’ve done, while I go make sure everyone else isn’t charging up here armed to the teeth.”
Devlin’s grin got even bigger. “You’d protect me?”
I growled in frustration. “Maybe I’ll be leading the way.”
“Nah, I’m growing on you.”
“Sure. Like a parasite.”
“No, it’s more like sym…symbi—” he frowned and scrunched his nose in a way that was not adorable. At all. I could still see some of my cum streaked below his left eye. “Symbiosis. We’re practically partners in crime now.”
This could not be happening.
“We are not partners. You are my prisoner.”
He made a face like he didn’t believe me. “You give me what I want. I give you what you want.”
I grabbed his chin. “I’m not your whore, devil.”
He licked his lips, fucking grin still stuck in place, and his eyes blazed. “No, I’m your whore.”
I shoved him away before he could feel the shiver that ran down my spine at his words and went to the closet.
I tossed some sheets aside and found what I was looking for—an old dog bed.
It had been used once or twice back when I’d dog sat for Rhys, before his dog had passed away.
It was a big bed, made for a husky, and the moment I left the closet holding it, Devlin’s eyes narrowed.
He suddenly barked out a laugh, and the irony wasn’t lost on me.
“Oh, fuck off.”
I set the dog bed on the floor beside mine, then retrieved the chain still attached to Devlin’s cuffs.
I gave it a tug, then walked toward the bedroom as he half-crawled, half-rolled behind me, grumbling the entire time.
The bathroom was only a few feet away from the bed, so I looped the chain around the toilet and secured it to the base.
There was a chance that Devlin could pull the toilet out of the ground, sure, but not without a fuck-ton of noise and a flood.
I checked the chain’s slack. Devlin could now shower, use the toilet—which meant no more fucking buckets—and lay down on the dog bed, but that was the extent of his freedom.
He couldn’t reach my bed or kitchen, and I’d already filled a laundry basket with anything he could use to hurt me or himself.
Razor blades. Pills. Whatever I could find.
And I locked the basket in my closet. He couldn’t reach the gun in my nightstand, but I grabbed it anyway and shoved it into my pocket to give to Rhys.
Satisfied that I could leave Devlin alone for at least ten minutes, I pointed at him on the dog bed. He looked absolutely irate. “I need to go deal with the mess your attack caused—”
“Attack is a bit of an overstatement—”
“—and I swear to God if you do anything while I’m gone, I will shove an entire baseball bat up your ass. Don’t think I won’t.”
His eyes glittered. “I believe you.”
With an irritated huff, I left my apartment and slammed the door behind me. I dug the heels of my palms into my eyes as I leaned against the door, listening for any noise, but the chain only rattled softly for a moment before falling quiet.
Downstairs, I found that most of the crew had already dispersed.
Some lingered, playing video games, drinking, or shooting pool, and it didn’t escape my notice that most of them were younger members.
The ones most loyal to me. I received several nods of respect as I entered the room.
Rhys was sitting at the bar with Mads, while Hack lazily threw a few darts.
Jace lounged on a couch nearby, thankfully dressed now.
All four of them looked at me with what felt like sympathy.
Then I heard footsteps stomping toward me, and I understood why.
I turned to find a bloody Rank and two of his buddies.
I normally wouldn’t entertain a conversation with him, but I wanted to ferret out the source of the fire. My number one suspect was Rank, or someone close to him, so I let him speak first.
“Look what he did to me!” He pointed to his ear, wrapped in a messy, blood-crusted bandage. His face was still smeared with blood.
I reached behind the bar, looking for a pack of cigarettes, and exhaled in relief when my fingers closed around one. Rhys handed me a lighter, and I lit one up, letting myself get a good lungful before answering.
“You brought that on yourself.”