Page 105 of Sick Bargain

“That’s right, hero. You’re fucking sinister.”

“Yes.” He sucks on his fingers and slides them into his ass. “I’m so sinister that I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t breathe. I want to hurt. I want to shatter like I made you shatter.”

“Thought you didn’t like pain?”

“Maybe I crave the pain you cause me,” he snips at me.

I rip his hand away. “This is my ass. You don’t get to finger fuck it.”

“Then hurry up and fuck it.”

“Put your hands behind your head.” I nudge my cock to his hole. “Now.”

He links his fingers and puts them behind his head, his dirty-blond hair getting messy from them. His cheeks redden and his eyes blaze, but his cock has never been harder.

“You’ve already ruined me,” he says.

“Finger-pointing again?” I push in a few inches, and tingles of pleasure tickle my balls.

“At myself. I wanted to be ruined. I let you.”

“Let me?” I laugh, and fucking hell, it’s a crazed sound. “You fuckinglet meruin you? You think you had that much control?”

“I did.”

I slam into him, and he loses his breath. The dryness stings a bit, so I pull out and spit again. I fuck into him hard a few times, still laughing. Unsure why. It’s a combination of exhaustion and suffering from the past two weeks, relief that Remiel is here with me again, and goddamn joy that he’s admitting how dark and dirty he’s become. I did that.Wedid that. We fucked the concept of right and wrong and turned it into something immoral that works for us. I’m narcissistic enough to take all the credit, because if it weren’t for me being an irrational heathen, Remiel would have shied away and withered under the impending doom of his suicide.

“Where’s your control now, hero?” I squeeze his thighs. “You just lay there like a helpless little doll.”

“Yeah, and get exactly what I want while doing it.” His smile is devious and cruel. It makes me feel comfortable. I understand deviance and cruelty, and Remiel is finally speaking my language. “Did you listen to my music?” he asks. “The music I just played for you.” His arms flex with restraint, my name on his wrists on full display.

I dip my eyes and follow the track that the suicide pill took from his mouth, down his throat, and into his stomach.Shatter. X marks the path. A slice to free it from his body.“It was a horror lullaby.” I tug him closer, the rock scraping against his back. “You wanted me to know that you’re soft and scared.”

“It was romance,” he corrects. “My interpretation of it. Haunting and lovely.”

I look at his face, his lips wet and his eyes glossy. “Lovely?”

Remiel nods. He removes one of his hands from behind his head and touches mine. I startle, going still inside him, but he takes my fingers from his bruised hips and wraps them aroundhis cock. Slowly, he moves my hand up and down his length. “It’s lovely the way you haunt me. Every part of my life is dictated by you now. When you’re gone, I feel you stalking me. When you’re near, I’m attracted to your monsters. When I sleep, you haunt my dreams. And when you’re inside me like this, vulnerable but dangerous about it, it shows me exactly who you are. Because I demanded rough enough to hurt, yet you’re being gentle with me while adding roughness to your words. You’re a fucking riddle, Krypt. I love trying to figure you out.”

“Stop trying.” Because I don’t know why I’m being gentle. I crave it, something different. Something that separates him from the violent way I interact with everyone else. I want to war with him over everything, but I want him to fight me back hard enough to challenge me. I want him to submit by choice rather than demand, and I want him to fear and love me simultaneously. What does love feel like?

“Never,” Remiel says.

I bend over him, slamming my mouth to his just to shut him up and taste all the words I don’t want him to speak aloud. I rock into him and fumble my coordination with my hand on his dick, but I don’t stop, and Remiel doesn’t care that I’m clumsy.

Pressure builds and turns into pleasure. It’s been a long time since I came, and I refuse to be embarrassed about my reaction to him. It should be a compliment, so I press my forehead to his, thrust into him slow and deep, and listen to the way he gasps every time my thumb swipes his slit.

“I love you,” he whispers.

“Stop.”

“I love you.”

I groan, barely holding it together. “Shut up.”

“Ahhhh, Krypt,” he moans, breath fanning my mouth. “I fucking love you.”

“Remiel,” I snarl.

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