Page 34 of Devil May Lie

“Just because it felt good the once doesn’t mean I want to do it again,” Berga stated, motioning with his chin down at Madden’s hand in his pants. “This is more than enough for me.”

“That’s unfortunate for you then,” Madden risked saying. “Because it isn’t for me.”

As expected, Berga frowned. “What—”

He shushed him. “Let’s focus on this first, shall we?”

Madden gave his dick a light squeeze and then started working him faster. He used his other hand to shove Berga’s boxers down and out of the way so he could finally get a good look at him, letting out an appreciative, low whistle as soon as he caught sight of the Butcher’s flushed crown.

“Are you about to talk pretty to my dick?” Berga asked, dropping his head back against the seat, staring over at Madden through hooded eyes. “You look like you just fell in love with it.”

“Funny.” He had a wicked sense of humor, made even more humorous by the fact that half the time Berga spoke, he did so with a monotone and a blank expression. There’d only been a handful of times Madden had seen him openly emote, and three of them had been in the past week alone.

He wanted to see more.

Wanted to know what made the Butcher tick, what sort of twisted thoughts circled around his mind.

What had happened to make him go berserk back at the Academy earlier.

Madden changed his grip, slicking precome down Berga’s long shaft. When the Butcher moaned for him and bucked his hips, he chuckled. “You were so mad about the come last time,” he pointed out. “Going to get upset if you stain your clothing now?”

Berga’s eyes narrowed. “I know what you’re implying.”

“Just let me use my mouth,” he said. “It’ll be cleaner for the both of us.”

“Don’t tell me you have a swallowing kink.”

“I’m beginning to think I have a Berga one,” he mumbled, but before the other man could process that statement, he took control of the situation himself.

Madden readjusted in his seat and then held Berga’s cock still, dropping down to swallow it in one gulp. One hand went to the top of Berga’s thigh to keep him still when he jerked beneath him, the other slapping against his chest to pin him to the seat.

If he had his way, he’d take this slow, enjoy himself and explore all that the Butcher had to offer, but Madden could tell he was already pushing his luck here. At any moment, whatever weird state of being Berga had slipped into could shatter completely, and he could return to the cold-hearted, mad scientist he was used to.

Unless…

Madden dared a glance up as he continued to suck.

Berga wasn’t watching him though. His eyes were squeezed shut and his breathing was labored. His left hand found its way to Madden’s head, tangling his fingers in his hair, but he didn’t push him down or pull him off. He simply held him and allowed Madden to set the pace.

Maybe that’s what a guy like Berga needed.

Someone to take things out of their overthinking hands.

Someone to take control.

Madden lifted and rolled his tongue around Berga’s salty crown, flicked the tip of it against his slit, and then swallowed him back down. It didn’t take much longer after that, another couple of bobs of his head, a few good sucks, and then the Butcher was emptying a warm load down his throat and mewling for him.

He swallowed it all down, wringing him dry before finally straightening. Giving a self-satisfied sigh, he rubbed at his mouth with the back of his hand and winked when Berga’s eyes peeled open.

The Butcher looked spent, content in that afterglow way. Gone was the man who’d been on the verge of tears the entire drive over here.

Before he knew what he was doing, Madden reached out and captured the back of Berga’s skull, yanking him forward to seal their mouths together in a rough, overly frantic kiss. There was still the taste of spunk on his tongue, but he held Berga firm as he tangled theirs together, ignoring the grossed sound the Butcher emitted.

He’d make him accept this. Accept whatever this burning sensation in the pit of his stomach was.

“You need a keeper, Butcher,” Madden breathed against his lips before forcing his tongue back in. He was careful not to nip at him too hard, not wanting to draw blood and push the other man too far past his limits. But a little aftertaste? That should be fine. They were both going to have to start crossing lines they’d never crossed before.

“Invite me inside.” The rain had started to slow outside, the ping against the metal lessening, allowing for his words to be more easily heard. They couldn’t sit out here all day, and even though he’d fully intended to just drop Berga off and leave, he was no longer satisfied with that outcome.

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