Chapter 21
Cullen called after him again, flinching as the thorns dug into his legs.
Leviathan didn't come back and, though he could hear servants moving in the hallway, they ignored his calls for help.
Not that he really wanted anyone to walk in on him bent over the bed and tied to the floor with freaky magic vines.
"Fuck." He hissed, pressing his forehead to the bed.
It smelled even more like Leviathan now.
"This is exactly what I deserve for being so stupid.
" Sleeping with Leviathan–how much of an idiot could he be? Or did it even count? Was it simply assault? Would it make him feel less shitty if he thought of it that way? He remembered his dreams, remembered feeling Walker’s hands on him…
but he couldn't lie to himself. The Walker in his dreams had morphed into Leviathan on more than one occasion, and he'd liked it.
Every time. He'd been panicked when he woke up to the real Leviathan touching him but…
he'd liked that too. All of it. He closed his eyes, feeling tears gather in them.
"I'm such a horrible person." He whispered to himself. How could he enjoy the touch of someone like Leviathan? A demon. A cold blooded killer. Touching him with the same hands he had killed with…
He felt sick.
And…Walker. What would he think? He would hate him.
He would be disgusted. And were they even actually broken up?
He'd assumed they were, but…had he cheated on him?
Was Walker waiting for him to come home?
The tears spilled over. Gods, he hadn't meant to.
He would never cheat. It wasn't cheating.
It couldn't be. If he ever saw Walker again, he would tell him.
He'd apologize and break up with him, tell him to go be happy with someone who wasn't so disgusting and evil…
But maybe Walker had already moved on. Cullen could hardly fault him if he had.
His heart ached at the thought of Walker with another guy.
But he deserved someone better. Cullen clearly had a darkness in him that Walker didn't, and he couldn't continue to spoil Walker’s life.
He looked towards the window, at the dark sky outside, and he wanted to throw himself out of it, to accomplish what Leviathan had stopped the first time.
But his legs hurt worse the more he moved, and that quiet little voice came again, reminding him that he didn’t want to die.
Even if it meant living with such rancid disgust. He felt his dick rub slightly against the bed and wanted to cry even more.
He was hard again, and he knew it would stay that way until Leviathan came back, until he touched him again.
Cullen didn't have a single doubt that he would give in again.
He was so pathetic. No matter how good it had been…
it was Leviathan. A Prince of Hell, a psychotic murderer…
He pressed his face into the blanket and let out a low sob.