Page 46 of The Cult

“No,” I quipped. “Maybe.”

“Do you want me to stop?” He nudged my chin with his naked hand, his thumb rubbing my lower lip.

“No, I don’t wanna stop.”

“Good.” Tobias stuck his thumb in my mouth. Instinctively, I sucked it, relishing the salty taste it left on my tongue. He pulled his thumb out and whispered close to my ear, “Purple.”

I was in a trance, drunk under Tobias’s spell. “Huh?” Did I miss something? It was a possibility considering my current state. “What’s purple?”

“That’s your safe word.”

“Why do I need a safe word?”

“Because I’mma do things to you that will push you over the edge. And I need you to say that word when you can’t take it any longer.”

“Then what?”

“Then I’ll stop.”

“I don’t want you to stop,” I said. I didn’t want to disappoint him, and the thought of stopping before we’d even begun didn’t sound appealing.

“We’ll see,” he said. “Remember that word.”

“Got it. Purp—”

“Don’t say it unless you need to.”

I obeyed with a nod.

“Hands on your back,” he ordered.

I submitted to his request, removing purple from my vocabulary.

Twenty-One: Tobias

This was fucking insane. I’d completely lost my mind. It’s just like any other sex you’ve had. Nothing more, I told myself, even though nothing about what I was about to do with Abel was close to anything I’d ever done. He was a man, and he was my best friend’s son. I should be protecting him, not subjecting him to my dark fantasies. A craze that, once craved, there was no stopping until I’d satisfied my appetite. Those sexcapades ultimately faded until they were forgotten. But there was a wrinkle in my modus operandi: I couldn’t leave afterward. I’d vowed to get Oliver’s family out of here.

What would happen in the morning? The day after? And the day after that? I’d worry about that later. This wasn’t the smartest move, but Abel was too sinful to pass up. I was in too deep now.

My fingertips brushed against the heavy-duty nylon webbing of the tactical belt. Shots would be mine to call. My insatiable appetite for dominance began when I was eighteen years old. A time in my life when nothing seemed to excite me—no motivation, and everything was blah. The world was uninteresting and the sex was dull. That all changed when I met a woman, ten years my senior, who begged me to tie her up with a rope and gag her with my boxers during sex. I didn’t understand why at first, but the moment I had her restrained and I had all the power, the suffocating grip the world had on me dissipated. I had the upper hand for a change. In that moment, I wasn’t the orphaned kid who’d been controlled his entire life. I wasn’t under someone’s thumb obeying orders that kept me at death’s door. I felt like a god.

Was that fucked up? Maybe.

Abel grimaced when I tightened the strap, but he remained mute. His curious blue eyes tracked my methodical but deliberate movements. His youthful face was a striking difference to his brawny frame—a lethal contrast for any guy. I shook off the irritation that surged through my body about any guy—or anyone—touching Abel like that. Just sex.

As if having him restrained wasn’t enough, I pulled off my shirt and covered his eyes. Abel was vulnerable, helpless, and so fucking hot blindfolded. I wasn’t lying when I told him that I hadn’t done anything sexually with a man in the past; what I did with him earlier was based on pure instinct.

Abel swallowed hard. His lips parted and his breathing quickened. His tongue moistened his very inviting lips. I wanted to devour them but settled on running my fingers across his supple skin.

I raised his shirt up, my palm dragging across his obliques up to his abs. He shivered when my fingers reached his chest. I continued pulling his shirt until his head was free. His white tank top remained on his shoulder while his entire torso was exposed for me. A forbidden dish served on a silver platter.

I gently pinched his nipples and he let out a soft moan. “You like that?” I asked.

“Mmmm. Very much.” He arched his back for more.

“Down, boy,” I said, pressing his stomach down. He was scorching hot under my touch. His body was damp and gleaming with sweat.

I continued my caress of his hardening nipples. What would happen if I licked them and rolled my tongue over them? Hell fucking no, I scolded myself. That’d be too intimate.

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