Page 125 of Devil May Lie

“How,” Berga swallowed and tried again, “Why?”

“Why? Later. First,” he held up his bound wrists, “undo this. Now.”

He expected at least a little hesitation, but the Butcher surprised him, practically darting into action. His hands were freed in less than a minute, and before Berga could retreat from him, Madden pounced.

He slammed the other man onto his back on the ground and pinned him down with his body, tossing the gun into the corner of the room, far away from either of their reach, in the process. When Berga struggled beneath him, he clicked his tongue chidingly, capturing his wrists and held them down over Berga’s head until he could find the discarded belt nearby and use it.

“I can’t believe you tied me up with this thing instead of bringing handcuffs,” he said as he secured the Butcher. “Next time, just borrow a pair from me.”

“Madden.” Berga sucked in a sharp breath when he ground his hard on into him.

“Oh no, you’re done talking, baby,” Madden told him. “Now it’s my turn. Do you have any idea how furious I am with you right now? I’m so angry I could…” He purposefully let his sentence trail off, knowing it would drive Berga crazy, and then he flipped him over onto his stomach. “Keep your hands right there.”

He waited, but when Berga didn’t reply, took a chance and let go of his wrists long enough to lift onto his knees. When he jerked the Butcher’s pants and underwear down, his body slid an inch or so with them, but the man kept position and didn’t struggle or attempt to escape.

“Good boy.” Madden slapped him across the ass, watching the plush cheek vibrate after the hit, and tore off the towel wrapped around his waist. “I really wanted to talk with you first,” he informed him, adding a series of satisfying spanks that had his cock dripping all over those swollen cheeks. “But you just had to drug me. Again.”

“Sorry,” Berga’s voice was muffled because his face was buried between his arms, and Madden grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked him back.

“What was that?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” He shoved him back down and then forced his legs apart with his knees. Madden hooked his thumbs between his cheeks and spread them, taking a second to inspect the Butcher’s tight hole. “Have you touched yourself at all since our last time together?”

Berga shook his head, but that wasn’t good enough for Madden.

“Words,” he demanded. “Answer the question. Has anything else been inside here besides me?”

“No,” Berga said.

That meant it’d been a while. He should really be opened up and stretched out first, but…

Madden settled more closely to him and ran his leaking cock up and down his seam before settling into position. The first cry the Butcher made beneath him had him wincing, but he kept at it, feeding him inch after inch slowly, watching as that hole was forced to take him, the color already darkening a bright, angry shade of red.

He actually didn’t like hurting him, never had, not even now, as angry as he was. But Madden knew that’s how Berga liked it, understood that with each sob of pain, there was also a sigh of pure pleasure.

“You’re so fucked up, Butcher,” he stated, moaning when he finally bottomed out and stilled so they could both adjust to the overwhelming sensations. It’d been hell going without this for a month, but he’d been determined to win this thing between them. Determined to make the Butcher crawl back to him. After the stunt he’d pulled, Madden was being downright merciful by only setting him up.

Yet this was how he repaid him?

A blaster to the head?

A death wish?

Hell no.

“Tell me,” he demanded, dragging his cock free to the tip and then hammering back in all the way with all the force he could muster. As soon as he was buried deep, he rolled his hips, grunting when Berga mewled. “Tell me why you’re sorry. List it off. Start from the beginning.”

“I—” He hiccupped but immediately started again. “I’m sorry for drugging you that first night.”

Madden tore into him. “Are you really?”

“No!” Berga shuddered beneath him. “No, I’m not.”

“Only apologize for the things you’re truly sorry for,” he ordered. “I don’t want to second guess when you’re being honest with me and when you aren’t. You want forgiveness? Then give it to me straight, baby. What did you do wrong?”

“I lied to you,” his voice shook and his words came out breathy and between moans, but he got them out. “I should have told you what I wanted from the beginning.”

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