Page 82 of Devil May Lie

Or a reprieve?

If he agreed to more and the truth got out…He reached up and brushed his fingers through Madden’s hair, the silky strands featherlight. Probably the softest thing he’d ever felt in his entire life. Even softer than the man’s cherry lips.

“What’s—” he had to suck in a sharp breath when Madden dragged his thick crown over Berga’s prostate, “What does dating look like to you? What’s your definition of it?”

“Nervous?” Madden hooked a thumb against Berga’s chin and forced his head to the side. He planted his open mouth on the side of his neck and sucked hard enough Berga’s hips jerked. “I’ve never been in anything serious either, remember? We’re both new to this. There’s no reason to be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid,” he denied. He was…uncertain. Those weren’t the same thing.

“All right.” He reached between them and caught Berga’s dick, but he didn’t stroke him. Instead, he tightened his fingers around his girth enough that it sent zaps of pleasure pain spearing through the Butcher. His teeth found Berga’s left nipple then, and when he bit down, Berga saw stars.

“Tell me,” Berga somehow managed to demand, but Madden merely hummed against his flesh and bit him again.

“I’m thinking.”

“You’re thinking too much, Mad King,” Berga parroted. “That makes me feel like I’m not good enough for you.”

“Touché.” He pulled back to grin down at him as he continued to pound Berga’s ass. “This hole is perfect, baby. It’s like you were made for me. Made to be fucked.”

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

“I’m not.” Madden pressed against one of the hickeys he’d left on Berga’s side, gaze intense as Berga moaned for him at the contact. “It’s like you’re my hoverbike, and I know all the right buttons to push to get you to do what I want. Know all the right ways to touch you to get you to purr and vibrate for me.”

“I’m not a robot, but I’m still a hunk of metal, is that it?” Berga wasn’t offended either way. It was actually sort of cute, mostly because if there was one thing he’d always known about the Royal, it was how much he loved hoverbikes.

No one had ever compared Berga to something they loved before.

No one had ever told him he looked badass covered in blood or asked him to stay with them before either.

“You’re my boyfriend,” Madden corrected. “What does dating mean to me? It means we do stuff like this,” he gyrated his hips and squeezed Berga’s dick a little harder, “and we tell each other when something is wrong. It means we rely on one another and we never, ever abandon the other. It means I’m yours, Butcher, just like you claimed the other night. And it means you’re mine. Most importantly?”

Madden reared up, hand shifting down to capture Berga’s balls as his thrusts increased, his cock spearing into him until Berga’s toes were curled and his entire being felt like it was hovering over a precipice about to explode.

“We don’t do this with anyone else,” Madden concluded. “No one fucks you but me. I fuck no one but you. That’s non-negotiable. Remember, you aren’t the only one who knows how to destroy someone’s insides. You cheat on me? It won’t end well, for you or the person you let see you naked.”

“Threats?” Berga’s voice was reedy, his body covered in a sheen of sweat, and his hands clung to the blanket beneath him so hard his knuckles might pop.

They both knew, despite his comment, who was in charge here.

And it wasn’t him.

That should enrage him and make him want to fight back, but it didn’t.

It made him want to wrap his arms and legs so tightly around Madden, fuse the two of them together, so there’d be no escape for the Mad King. No way for him to break his promise—because this was a promise.

“I’m possessive of my things, too,” Berga warned.

“That’s fine,” Madden said. “I’m obsessive. You’ve seen my boathouse.”

If he was referring to all the hoverbike posters on the walls, the big glass case full of racing trophies, and the various helmets set about like decorations, then yeah. Yeah, Berga had seen them.

“So?” Madden finally loosened his grip and started to slowly rub Berga’s dick. “Are we dating, Butcher?”

He liked the idea of there being no one else for the Mad King. Of being his only one. Of knowing that, not only was there a person out there that belonged to him alone, but also that there was someone who wanted him badly enough to give up all others.

Berga wasn’t wanted.

He was feared.

---