PHOENIX (Revelations Book 1), page 14
It had been a hard week, tracking down yet another one of the traitorous leeches that had poisoned my merchandise by spreading lies through an article. After finally trapping him and beating the information I needed out of him, I was pent up on anger and bitterness, needing another outlet, any outlet before I exploded in a fit of rage.
Ending the life of someone so inconsequential wasn’t even the problem. The uncontrollable emotions warring within stemmed from sexual frustration. Not having someone to fuck apparently made me a lethal son of a bitch as my family constantly told me, not that I wasn’t already. And I hadn’t fucked someone in weeks since I broke up with my ex, the bitch giving me an ultimatum—telling me that I needed to choose between my job or her. She knew about both jobs and had told me that I didn’t spend enough time with her because of them.
Funny thing was, she had been vetted before she had ever been allowed on my property. She had been told about my priorities and which ones came first. She knew where on the list she fell and she just couldn’t handle it. It wasn’t a surprise, none of them ever lasted, citing loneliness. At least she had been decent enough to tell me rather than let me find her in the arms of someone else.
She and that fucker would have been dead before she could apologize.
So, after stalking into the ski bar’s bathroom to clean up and coming face–to–face with Killian, I only had one thought on my mind. But the kid looked so innocent, those mismatched eyes staring back at me, shaking in my presence and I knew that he couldn’t be the next victim in my bed.
I’d break the fuck out of him and only have myself to blame; but as I took in his minty scent and the tent in his pants, I realized that he wasn’t shaking in fear. He was shaking in anticipation, a dark aura oozing from him that contrasted his look.
My little killer was waiting and when he kissed my bloody knuckles, I lost my fucking mind. That fuck in the bathroom stall had been raw, brutal, and passionate, and Killian had taken every last bit of it, giving back just as much as I threw at him.
I had found my own poisonous flower and I was going to ravage him. What should have been a quick clean–up job and a trip home, turned into a weekend full of my wildest fantasies.
Everything about Killian was deceiving. I thought I was about to ruin an innocent–looking journalist with hopes and dreams when I met Killian. Instead, I got a killer, a kinky little minx that had been down for all sorts of shit that weekend.
Goodbyes were rushed after I was called to head up an emergency case that Chief Matthews had thrown at my feet. Not even five minutes back at the office, I watched my little killer stroll out like he owned the goddamn place and he did—oh fuck he did.
I snapped my head up at the foreign voice in the office. I recognized it but I shouldn’t have been hearing it here, at the precinct. It had been attached to my little killer—the one from the previous weekend, the one I had fucked so many times I had lost count.
Brent had joked that we fucked like porn stars and should have been charging patrons that walked by our room. Killer had been one of a kind, and I couldn’t stop thinking about him, the sounds of our romps in the sheets bleeding through the walls. I wanted to take him all over again and swallow those pretty little sounds that came from his sweet mouth.
The bathroom sex left us out of breath as I leaned against his back, arms propped up against the stall on either side of his head. Clothes had been discarded as needed, leaving us in varying states of undress. Sweat dripped down the kid’s neck, adorning many of the new bruises I had gifted him. Blood trickled from one of the wounds I had unknowingly inflicted on him, causing a momentary state of panic.
I had told him that I wasn’t going to be gentle—but I hadn’t warned him what that meant. I pulled myself off of him, stuffing my dick back in my pants hurriedly. Killian followed suit as he turned around to face me. I expected shock, tiredness, fear, anything but the expression of wild excitement and desire to continue but I needed to hear it, needed to hear him tell me that I was the darkness he wanted.
“Fuck, let’s go again.”
In light of my more primal needs, I hadn’t even thought about the implications as I dragged him to my private room and locked the door. I didn’t know what I had planned, but I wasn’t letting this kind of chance slip through my fingers.
Finding him on all fours, seductively staring at me when I emerged from my bathroom, had been an entirely welcome surprise. His eyes flashed—one a burnt amber and the other a blinding stormy gray, daring me to take him. The innocence that I had first seen had disappeared, leaving only the devil in my bed.
I had thought I was going to break this kid—I should have been more worried that he was going to break me.
Seeing as how Monday morning had rolled around and I was still fucking thinking about his supple lips, his goddamn sultry voice, his soft skin, and his puckering hole, demanding that I take him? He had definitely broken me—not to mention that I must have been imagining his voice outside of Chief Matthews’ office.
I stood and ventured over to the front desk, to get a better view of the guest. Chief Matthews entered the main area, a young man trailing behind him. I cocked my head to the side, smirking when Killian glanced up and our eyes met. He wrung his hands, his eyes flitting between the chief and me. I had no idea why he was here or what his purpose was. We had exchanged numbers so him being here didn’t make any sense.
Chief Matthews patted me on my shoulder and nodded to the kid behind him, “Stenson, meet my son, Killian.” He turned to the kid, “Wait here. I’ll just get the car and I’ll drop you off.” Killian nodded, bowing his head. He was still wringing his hands, his entire frame trembling, fear and anxiety rolling off him in waves, a stark contrast to the kid I had met a few days ago.
I had watched Killian panic a few times, but strangely enough, it was only after a session that he seemed to crawl into his head and his thoughts took a hold of him.
I waited until the chief exited the building before turning my attention to the shrinking form in front of me. “Chief Matthews’ son? I never would have guessed.” Killian gave me a sheepish smile but remained silent, refusing to meet my gaze. Hoping some of the fire from last weekend would resurface, I spoke again. “You know…we can’t do this right? You being Chief’s son and all?” I waited for the pushback, but his head bobbed again, body tensing when I placed a firm hand on his waist. A needy whine slipped through his lips, but he didn’t move, telling me more than any explanation would have done.
Neither one of us wanted this—whatever this was—to be over so I placed faith in Killian’s ability to break the rules. After all, there had to be some explanation as to why in the last four years I had known his father, no one in the department had ever met Killian.
I had been wrong—three weeks ago had been the last I heard of him—but Killian was now in my house. A wild grin spread across my lips as I twisted the knob, the door opening slowly, the creak of old metal bouncing off the bathroom tiles.
Killian’s head swung towards me, his hands gripping the counter in a death grip, knuckles white, fear looming in his eyes. “Killer.” His pet name slipped before I could take it back, but I didn’t regret it.
He took a step back, hands thrown out in front of him in defeat. “Fuck.”
Every emotion from that weekend rushed back at me. All of the passion, the raw desire, the need to dominate the unruly darkness before me. I wanted to hold him, fuck him, possess him, love him. I didn’t believe in love at first sight—hell, I’m not even sure I believed in that—but goddamn if Killian wasn’t as close as I’d ever come.
KILLIAN
I had no idea what I was supposed to do. Merchant was here. Here. In front of me. In this bathroom. He had stepped inside and closed the door, leaning on it like some sort of gatekeeper and he was still as massive as I remembered him.
From my hasty research, I found out that Merchant was two years older than me but by body mass alone, he made me look like I had just graduated middle school.
There was no way out, except through him and that wasn’t an option, not without a conversation at the very least. Dark was no help in the situation because he was more of a live life as it comes rather than a talk–it–out kind of guy.
I couldn’t blame him though, because, in this situation, I really didn’t want to talk either. Merchant owned Dark in a way that my other two men could only dream of doing. He demanded submission and while Phoenix had given me everything I needed, and Ryker gave me everything I craved, Merchant was the one person I wanted to give everything to.
I wanted to be in his bed. I wanted to submit. I wanted to give in.
Merchant had given me the choice to run and instead I had fallen into his arms, hating how fucking easy it had been to lose myself in him. He had satisfied my desires, my fantasies, every fucking itch that I had had—in a fucking weekend.
It terrified me that someone who had the means to kill those who crossed him was the only one I had wanted to place myself with, body and soul. I knew the strength of those lethal hands and yet I couldn’t have thought of a better place for them other than my naked flesh.
And now he was here and all I was thinking about were those paws of his, wrapped around his arms as he leaned against the door.
I shot him an uneasy smile, trying to find a place to stare without seeing my reaction mirrored back at me. “Uh—hi.”
Real smooth.
Well then, you fucking talk Dark.
Yeah, no. You got this one.
Waiting for Merchant to say something felt like awaiting judgment. I didn’t know if he even wanted to see me or if this was just the start of the end. Ignoring the past and bringing up the interview seemed like the safest idea and I was pretty sure Merchant wouldn’t try anything with Thomas in the next room. People would know if I went missing, unlike that Gary guy.
My mouth opened to say as much, but that dark smirk on his lips had me tongue–tied. So much for any pride or dignity left, especially when Merchant closed the distance between us and dragged me into a hug, crushing me into an embrace I didn’t know I needed.
My body sagged against him immediately, his head nuzzling against the crook of my neck, his arms wrapped possessively around my back.
It was in these moments that I not only felt safe but completely and utterly owned. I was his and only his. I was protected for as long as I wanted to be. Another sigh left me as I pressed myself against him, eyes widening as my pesky thoughts had my dick hardening. Yet another annoying tidbit about my men; it took almost nothing to turn me on when I was in their presence.
I squirmed in his hold but his arms tightened, making it worse as our arousals brushed against each other. Apparently, he hadn’t stepped into this bathroom to chastise me or off me but rather continue right where we had left off. Unfortunately, with Thomas in the next room and the likelihood of ruining yet another interview on the horizon, I really didn’t want to go any further.
What was it about ‘first’ meetings in bathrooms with this man?
Merchant chuckled, loosening his grip enough for me to fall back to the sink. I turned to avoid his penetrating stare only to find it locked on me through the mirror. He closed the distance between us again, the full length of his body meeting every curve of my back and ass.
“God, I just want to ruin you,” He purred. His hand reached around to grab my jaw, twisting me just enough to capture my lips. “I know the rules,” He murmured against my mouth, “I’m not supposed to want the chief’s son.” Merchant didn’t give me a chance to respond as his tongue thrust into my mouth and his hips ground against my ass, pushing me farther against the sink. In this position, there was nowhere to run but I really didn’t want to.
But we couldn’t do this. Not here. Not now. Maybe not ever. Merchant was dangerous and I was playing with fire by giving in like this. I also knew that Merchant had a pension for doling out pleasurable pain, something he enjoyed watching me suffer through as I came apart in his hands.
He released my lips only to nibble at my ear, licking the lobe until I was trembling in his arms for release. “You’re going to want to hold on.”
His half–lidded eyes were darker than midnight, desire and lust dripping from his expression as he thrust his erection against me again, head tucking into my neck. I thought about fighting what I wanted but that wouldn’t get us anywhere, Merchant slowly teasing the skin between his teeth until the flesh split and a single trickle of blood traveled down my shoulder.
It shouldn’t have been hot, but the pressure in my pants grew painfully uncomfortable as I gripped the sink, urging Merchant on in whatever direction he chose. This thing between us always went from 0 to 100 so quickly. Just before my eyes slid shut, lost to the pleasure, his head rose, a smirk playing on his lips.
“Killer, eyes open. I want you to watch yourself fall apart in my hands.” He couldn’t possibly—not here, right? I bucked against him when his hands wrapped around my front, one hand unzipping my pants and shoving them down my legs in a swift move that had my erect dick slapping against my white shirt.
My eyes widened as our gazes locked in the mirror, unspoken promises swimming in the expression plastered on the monster’s face, the one currently pressed up against me.
Merchant had enjoyed two things, both of which I discovered that weekend: watching me fall apart and having me watch myself fall apart. He had been a fan of mirrors like Ryker had but where Ryker’s was part of the performance, Merchant used mirrors so I couldn’t hide.
I had never entertained the idea of being watched but Merchant made me want to show off. The nasty bit of my conscience that told me I should have been ashamed of myself fucked right off when Merchant was around.
Just like now.
Dark preened as Merchant’s hand swallowed my dick, squeezing at the base and then giving it a few experimental strokes. Precum beaded at the tip, Merchant thumbing my slit, dragging it along my dick until the squelching sounds of it had me squirming for release.
Ah, yeah. That’s the stuff.
I didn’t have it in me to chastise Dark as I gave into Merchant’s touch, shuddering in his hold as I tried to thrust into his hand. The arm wrapped around my waist prevented that, the intense grip on my cock heating me up from the inside.
Unable to stop them, the whines and pants slipping from my lips grew louder as Merchant drove me fucking insane with his devilishly show strokes. His hips thrust against me with the same rhythm, my back arching into his hold, a moan falling from me as a lone tear made its trek down my cheek, “Please, Merchant.” It was too much and not enough.
Just like with Phoenix and Ryker.
My hole ached from the emptiness, but we didn’t have time for that, and even if we did, I wouldn’t let him fuck me. I’d never be able to walk out a second time. Even just this was risky.
“My sweet, sweet Killer,” He whispered in my ear, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine, “Let go.”
I gritted my teeth, a few more tears escaping down my cheeks. I knew what he was talking about, sweat clinging to my skin as I tried to fight his pace. His hand slapped across my lips as he continued the rhythm, my moans swallowed by his thick, powerful fingers gripping my face.
I couldn’t though, I couldn’t let go. There had been a reason, one that didn’t seem to matter anymore, that I had left.
The flush on my cheeks deepened, my eyes burning bright colors of gold and silver as he continued to drive me toward my orgasm.
“Let go,” He whispered again and I had no choice but to obey, relaxing against the sink, letting the pleasure overwhelm me.
My body grew heated with my impending release, Merchant’s smile widening as he twisted me around to steal my lips again, nipping and biting, demanding submission. I dragged one of my arms back around his neck, smashing him in closer as his tongue ravaged my mouth, swallowing my moans as I bucked in his hold.
I stuttered, trying to let him know that I was about to let go, but he just swallowed me in further and continued to pump his hand along my length, hastening his pace.
My release coated his hand and the porcelain in front of me. He let go of my lips, attacking my neck again as he continued to milk me through my release. I whimpered against him, as the pleasurable sensations quickly turned to overstimulation.
I bucked against him, trying to slip from his grip but he just grinned in the mirror. I had hoped that he had forgotten this one secret about me. Phoenix and Ryker had never found out or Dark hadn’t let them—I’m not sure.
Merchant, however, had found it after the second time we fucked. It might have been the intensity of things between us, but he hadn’t been able to get enough.
Apparently, my refractory period was seconds rather than minutes, something I had never figured out. The second one involved a lot less of the sticky white release, but a whole lot more sensations. The problem with it—and one of the only reasons I hadn’t even known I was capable of it—was that it involved continuing past the first orgasm.
It was a pleasurable pain, but not one that I had ever sought out on my own.
Merchant had and when he found that little tidbit? Fuck, he had had so much fun with it. I arched against him, crying out. His hand was covering my mouth again, tears streaming down my cheeks as he stroked me. I felt the warmth wash over me again as I fell limp in his arms, spurting my second release moments later.
No more. No fucking more.
I didn’t have the energy to laugh at Dark’s resistance. Merchant hadn’t given us a lot of time for recovery that weekend, thoroughly spent by the time I had left his room. I gripped the counter with both hands again, my entire body shaking with the aftershocks of my release but I couldn’t seem to catch my breath as Merchant’s arms once again settled across my waist.
“Just as exciting as the first time, Killer.”
I didn’t respond; I couldn’t, not with the intensity of his stare still locked on me through the mirror, his hand still on my dick as if threatening to go a third time. I really hoped he didn’t.
