Chapter 15
The throne room went dead silent the moment he stepped into it, all their faces turning to him with identical terrified looks.
“Why,” he asked quietly, straightening his shoulders as he gazed around the room. “Did you all stop?”
There was a long moment of silence, all of them exchanging nervous glances, though nobody moved a muscle.
Leviathan chuckled, his eyes falling on a blond woman, an old demon he’d known for three hundred years.
He’d heard the brush of her long, bony fingers against Cullen’s back, but had decided to say nothing.
Do nothing. Not this time. He’d been in too good of a mood at the moment, had not wanted to break what little connection had finally been made with Cullen to deal out a punishment.
And even now, when he saw the flash of nervous guilt in her eyes, he turned away, walking back up to his throne.
The moment he sat down, he flicked his fingers and a part of the wall on the other side of the room vanished, leaving nothing but the entrance to a wide staircase that led down into a deep tunnel.
A tunnel that emptied out just before the labyrinth on the outskirts of his dimension.
Miles and miles away. Space most of these creatures could pass in mere moments.
“My servants have supplied a lovely group of prizes for your benefit today, my friends. Follow the tunnel and enjoy your hunt.”
A last minute change of plans, but he wanted these people out of his home now.
And he knew Cullen and his damn rebellious steak.
The last thing he needed was for him to walk into the room and see guts strewn about and pools of blood everywhere.
That would only hurt whatever this little progress was that he’d made.
The demons left with murmured goodbyes and bows, disappearing down the tunnel. Leviathan waited until they’d all disappeared before tipping his head back with a sigh, his eyes closing as he listened to the sound of Cullen's quiet heartbeat far above.
That night he dreamed about dancing with Leviathan. He could hear the music, as if it had embedded itself in his memory, and smell the sweet scent of the demon holding him. Holding him so tightly he felt as if their hearts had somehow merged into one, their frantic pounding matching perfectly.
People–demons–swirled around them in a bright array of colors that had him spinning dizzily down, down…
There was a brush of fabric, the press of lips to skin. He moaned…
Cullen jerked awake with a gasp, his eyes instantly popping wide with horror.
“What the fuck?” He hissed as he gazed at the dark ceiling above him. He shifted–and froze when he realized his hand was in his pants. He yanked it out with a fierce scowl, his cheeks darkening despite the fact that nobody was here in this dark room to see.
Sweat coated his skin and the blanket had been kicked to the foot of the bed. He rolled onto his stomach with an irritated sigh, squeezing his eyes closed again.
Just a dream. He told himself, curling his arms under the pillow to press it closer to his face.
It doesn’t mean anything. And it didn’t, of course.
It wasn’t like he could control them. He shifted again and gasped softly when his erection rubbed at the sheet under him. A slow heat spread down his neck.
How long had it been now?
A week? Two? He’d never gone so much as a day before without touching himself. This had been bound to happen sooner than later.
Guilt pricked at his heart but…it wasn’t like he could live without it forever.
He chewed his lip for a moment, hesitating, and then pressed his hips down into the sheet again.
A soft groan escaped at the pressure. He darted down to grab the blanket and pressed it under himself, balling it up until he could press his hips into it more comfortably.
He gave a small thrust forward and moaned, letting his eyes fall closed as he pictured Walker under him, his soft moans filling the room while he fucked him…
He shivered and shot a hand down, pressing the blanket more firmly against his groin as he fucked it.
A small shudder ran up his spine, dragging a groan from him.
Heat burned in his stomach, spreading down his limbs and making him feel hot all over.
The pressure built quickly, his hand latching on hard to the pillow as his orgasm started to hit–and then died away.
He froze in surprise and then began moving again, letting himself imagine Walker and how he would feel, the taste of him on his tongue…
He groaned again, his body tensing–and the orgasm died away once more.
“Fuck.” He hissed, furious. He was too in his head for this shit. The pillow under him smelled infuriatingly like Leviathan and that only made him remember exactly where he was and what he was doing in this stupid palace…
He froze and then jerked into a sitting position, whirling around in alarm as he realized there was some sort of presence in the room. His eyes scanned the darkness, seeing nothing but shadows, but he could feel it…eyes on him. The ghost of a touch against his skin…
He blushed, mortified, and sprang out of bed, hurrying for the bathroom. A cold shower. That’s what he needed. A cold shower to forget about this whole mess.