Page 44 of Devil May Lie

Madden would become the problem Berga couldn’t easily solve. Then he’d have Berga right where he wanted him, as desperate and needy as he was to recreate that moment in the bathroom.

To remake that connection.

The way only the two of them could.

Together.

Chapter 11:

Madden allowed Berga to sleep for a couple of hours before he got to work. The house was surprisingly empty, so it took him longer to find all the things he needed—and he didn’t even need that many.

Instead of handcuffs, he settled for three of the black ties from Berga’s closet. He used another as a blindfold, securing it tightly over the sleeping man’s face, careful not to jostle him too much and wake him too soon. For someone who dealt with the sick and depraved on the daily, however, Berga was a seriously sound sleeper. He didn’t rouse once, not even when Madden lifted his wrists and attached them to the rungs of the headboard.

Or when he squirted a healthy dose of lemon-scented body lotion onto his fingers and pressed them against Berga’s entrance.

Madden tossed the comforter off the bed and situated himself between the Butcher’s spread thighs, easing his middle finger past that tight ring of muscle gently at first. The mind was a funny thing. If he could stimulate Berga before he fully woke, his body would react to the pleasure before his brain had the chance to reject it.

No part of Madden was having problems with getting aroused. The Butcher was too sexy, all splayed out for him. Tied up and blindfolded, completely at his mercy. That’d never really been his thing before. With past lovers, he might have held them down a time or two, but he’d never needed or wished for bondage play to get off.

He pushed a second finger into him, grinning when that finally got a reaction.

The Butcher moaned softly and rolled his hips, but it was impossible to tell if he was trying to gain more pressure or get away.

Madden slid a palm up from his navel across his chest, moving to tweak his right nipple. When Berga arched his back, he repeated the move, this time with a little more force.

The Butcher’s dick came awake before he did, lengthening between them until it’d lifted proudly in the air, aimed directly at Madden. It was tempting to suck him off again, but that was going to have to wait until next time. He had a plan to stick to.

His fingers stretched him open slowly, slipping in and out until there was little resistance aside from Berga’s body clinging to him every time he pulled out.

In all his musings, Madden had forgotten the most important thing. They were both Devils of Vitality.

And there was only one way to get the upper hand with one of them.

Dominate them, completely and totally.

Madden was going to empty Berga’s mind and fill it up with useless thoughts of him—Useless, not meaningless. He’d make it so that all the Butcher thought about when they were apart was this coming moment, waking already in the process of being taken.

He removed his fingers and picked up the other item he’d brought to the bed, coating that with body lotion as well before bringing the metallic tip of it to Berga’s hole.

The Butcher came awake as he was forcing it inside.

“What the—” Berga let out a strangled sound and tugged on his arms, head tipping backward when he discovered he couldn’t move them. He pulled again, mouth opening slightly before he cursed. “What the hell is this?! Madden?”

“Right here, baby.” He shoved the object in another couple of inches to help emphasize his presence, smirking when Berga hissed. “Does that hurt? I tried to open you up as much as possible, but we both know how tight you are down there. At least I’m giving you this before my cock. Isn’t that nice of me?”

“What the hell is that?!” Berga struggled, lifting one of his legs from the bed, no doubt about to try kicking him.

Madden caught him before he could, shoving his thigh flush against the mattress as he thrust the object the rest of the way in and wiggled it around.

Berga cried out, jerking beneath him, a slew of curses leaving his pretty pink lips.

“When you told me you didn’t take it up the ass, I didn’t entirely believe you,” Madden said. “But I do now. There’s not a single sex toy in this apartment. How do you get off when you’re alone?”

“What,” he growled, lifting his head, probably glaring behind the thick cloth of the makeshift blindfold, “the hell is inside of me right now?”

“This?” Madden twisted it again, laughing. “This is my blaster. It was the closest thing to phallus-shaped I could find. Trust me, I looked for a while too.”

Berga froze. “Are you telling me you have a gun shoved up—”

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