Chapter 12
TWELVE
Cian
His pleas were like waving a red flag in front of a bull. The harder he fought me, the more I wanted to take him apart.
That was the thing about Devlin. He was a human booby trap.
His charm lured me in, making me believe he was all soft petals.
But the moment I reached for him, thorns dug into my skin.
Still, the softness was there. I could see it and feel it.
But he’d wrapped thorny vines around himself so tightly that I wasn’t sure it was possible to unravel them.
I would, though. I’d strip away the thorns that formed his armor until he was nothing but naked flesh and blood. I’d rip him open, tear him apart, and then put him back together so that his bones were etched with the grooves from my claws.
I would own Devlin Walsh, mind and body.
And then I would kill him.
His face was flushed deep pink with shame, and his emerald eyes were glassy. He looked so damn fuckable right now that my cock was ready to punch through my fly. I was sick. Seeing him like this only made me want him more.
I eased my grip on his throat, and his Adam’s apple bobbed beneath my palm. My hand slid up to his jaw, where I brushed my thumb over his bottom lip.
“We’ve been over this. I’ll do whatever I want, devil.”
I pressed down until his lips parted, then I slipped my thumb inside. I ran it along the ridge of his bottom teeth before sliding it over his tongue. I pressed even farther back, until he choked around the digit.
“You’re mine to play with. Mine to take apart.” I pulled my thumb back, resting it on his bottom lip. “Mine to destroy.”
“How far?” His eyes glowed in the yellow light of the bathroom.
“How far what?”
He swallowed, blinking slowly. “How far will you go?”
Didn’t he get it yet? “All the way, devil. All the way.”
Alarm flashed in his eyes as he tossed his head to dislodge my thumb, and I returned my hand to his throat. “Don’t do this. Just use me then fucking kill me.” His breath came in ragged bursts, bordering on panic. “Cian. Please.”
Hack’s research was fresh in my mind. I couldn’t let any of this go. I had Devlin in my sights now, and the desire to possess him was overriding whatever sense I had left.
I leaned closer and bared my teeth. “Don’t worry. I will. But first, I want it all, devil. And you’re going to give it to me.”
We left the bar through the back entrance—I didn’t want anyone to see Devlin this wrecked. He stumbled along behind me like he’d been drugged. I didn’t bother with my bike this time, and crossed the road to our gate with Devlin at my heels.
By the time I shut the door to my apartment, Devlin was in full flight mode. His eyes darted around like a trapped animal, and I was half-convinced he would’ve jumped from my window if he’d been small enough to squeeze through.
His chest heaved. Sweat slicked the hair at his temples.
But the beast inside me roared in victory when I realized he was hard.
His cock strained against his pants, and a damp spot darkened the fabric.
My mouth watered at the sight. I hadn’t tasted Devlin yet, but I would soon. I couldn’t wait to devour him.
“Take your clothes off, devil.” I kept my distance because I didn’t trust myself to touch him yet.
He held out a hand, trying to stave off the inevitable. “Cian—”
“Now,” I barked.
Devlin let out a shaky exhale and slowly removed his clothes.
I knew what he was doing. He wanted this, but he didn’t want me to see just how much. Not while he was this vulnerable. Devlin was more comfortable wearing chains and a smirk. He liked when I shoved his mouth so full of dick he didn’t have to admit to anything.
I’d never forget watching the blood drain from Devlin’s face when Jeremy held up that keychain.
He’d never been more transparent, and I’d seen each emotion play across his face like a movie.
Relief because Jeremy was safe. Pain because of how thin and dirty he was.
But most of all, I saw guilt. Guilt because he believed he could have done more.
I didn’t want to be grateful to Devlin. I didn’t want to see him as anything other than a monster. But I kept getting glimpses of the man beneath the devil.
And that was a part of him he didn’t want anyone to see, because The Detroit Devil was the armor he relied on.
It only made me want to tear away his protection even more. I’d claw through every layer he’d ever built around himself to find the very real, very vulnerable Devlin Walsh underneath.
He stood before me now, wearing nothing but the shock collar, and I took my time studying his body: pale, freckled skin, a mole on his right hip, a scar along his left ribs. His throat was red from the collar and the pressure of my hand.
He clasped his hands behind his back like the obedient little devil he was and waited.
I pushed myself away from the door and removed my flannel shirt.
When I moved behind him, he kept staring straight ahead.
He was trembling slightly. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end.
Goosebumps mixed with the freckles on his shoulders, and his ears burned a deep red.
It might have been embarrassment, arousal, or both.
With Devlin, desire was rarely separate from fear or shame.
I palmed his ass, and he released a harsh breath, swaying forward before catching himself. Then I squeezed, and a shiver ran down his spine. I adjusted myself in my jeans, forcing my cock to wait. I intended to torture Devlin before I let myself have any relief.
My hand drifted up his lower back, along the knobs of his spine. I removed the shock collar and tossed it aside.
I leaned down next to his ear and growled, “Stay.”
He listened. Because of course he did. He knew who he belonged to—or at least his body did. I walked into the closet and opened a few drawers until I found the items I was looking for. I hadn’t planned on this, but my head was too full to focus on anything else.
I wanted to open Devlin up, in more ways than one.
After shoving a bottle of lube in my back pocket, I emerged from the closet.
Devlin still hadn’t moved. He faced the front door, his back to me, hands clasped behind his back.
I stepped in front of him and held up a flesh-colored silicone dildo.
Without a word, I slapped it against my palm, letting the heavy smack echo around the apartment.
Devlin’s eyes went wide when they landed on the toy, and his cock gave an excited jerk between his legs. I knew what would happen next. Hell, what I wanted to happen deep down.
Devlin turned on his heel and bolted.
Devlin
White noise roared through my ears, and my body reacted on instinct.
I turned to run, but Cian was faster. In an instant, he had me shoved facedown onto his coffee table with a hand on the back of my neck.
My knees hit the hard floor, my upper body pinned flat.
I tried to push myself upright, but he pressed down harder.
“Try to get up again, and I’ll tie your hands. Now clasp them behind your back.”
My cock and balls hung between my spread thighs, and the cold air in the apartment brushed over my hole. I was so exposed, and I trembled as I followed his instructions. My fingers laced together at the small of my back. With my cheek pressed to the side, his jean-clad legs filled my vision.
Cian crouched next to me, and I could see the bulge of his cock pressing against his fly. My mouth watered. His hand left the back of my neck, and he tapped the dildo on my cheek. Then he dragged it down to press the head against my mouth.
“Open,” he ordered.
My cock jerked between my legs as I parted my lips to let him slide the toy inside.
“Just the tip.” His voice was dangerously low. “The only dick you choke on is mine.”
His gaze stayed fixed on my mouth. In and out. In and out. Giving me just the bulbous head and nothing else. I ached for the muskiness of his skin, not the sterile taste of silicone. But my muscles started to settle, and I tongued the toy as my panic began to subside.
Because of course I fucking liked this. Head empty, mouth open, nothing but following orders.
“We both know you want this,” Cian rumbled. “So why did you run?”
I couldn’t speak, not with the silicone dick stretching my lips. But Cian didn’t want my words—he already knew the answer.
“You like it when you’re a little scared. When I have to make you. That’s what gets you the hardest.”
A humiliating whimper clawed up my throat, and I could feel my cock leaking. Fuck him for reading me so well.
He pulled the dildo from my mouth. “Hands flat on the table, devil.”
My muscles took a second to comply as he pulled a bottle of lube from his back pocket.
My hole flexed involuntarily, and I sucked in a sharp breath, my heart thudding against the table like a drumbeat.
Sure, I’d used toys in my ass—but it had been a long fucking time.
Maybe years. At least the dildo had the decency to be smaller than Cian’s monster dick.
He squirted lube on the silicone cock and slicked the shaft with quick, sloppy movements that filled the apartment with obscene sounds.
My body couldn’t decide what to focus on: the blood rushing to my dick, the ache in my balls, or the twitching ring of muscle in my ass that clenched like it knew what was coming.
Then Cian held the lube bottle above my back, and I felt cold liquid hit my crack, sliding over my hole. Running down my balls. Dripping onto the floor. Cian shifted behind me, and I lifted my chest, trying to keep my eyes on him. He pushed down on my upper back.
“Stop.”
Right. Stay. I could do that. I exhaled slowly, then waited.
A smacking thud sounded behind me, followed by the rustle of fabric. Then Cian was once again in my view as he settled onto the couch in front of me. He’d taken off his T-shirt, and the button on his jeans was popped open.
“Sit back on your heels.”