Page 26 of Sick Bargain

I have no idea what I plan to do with him. Out of some attachment to Ghost, I want to take it easy on him and give him the rest of the night to come to terms with everything he’s just learned. But the other part of me wants to remind him that he belongs to me now, and choice is no longer an option for him.

Thathechose this.Hemade the bargain and agreed to the terms. Thathesold his life away with the hope of being fucking murdered, and instead of murdering him, I’m going to make him feel so tragically alive he’ll start actually living.

“Krypt,” he cries into the sheets. “Please.”

I grind my cock against his bare ass, unsure what to do with him. Yeah, I assaulted him, but I also know very little about sex. All I know is that I want him.

“Please what?” My hair falls into my eyes when I lean over his back, running my nose against the knobs of his upper spine. He smells like smoke, reminding me how insane I went earlier. I burned his goddamn house down just to trap him with me.

My hips move, dancing on his body. Each rub of my cock against his ass dampens my pants with leaking precum. I fist my hand in his hair harder, pinning him down because I’m afraid he’ll flee. I’m not in the mood to hunt anymore. I’m in the mood to fucking take. But I don’t want him to look at me while I do it. I don’t want him to witness my insecurities—my inexperience.

“Please, just let me process this alone. I need to be alone.”

Like hell. I undo my pants and sit up, pulling my heavy dick free and slapping it against his ass. Menace’s marker litters his back, and I hate it. I hate that he’s covering more of Remiel than I am. So, I fist my cock and press the wet tip to the crack of his ass, burning with a sensation so strong I don’t stand a chance of resisting it. He tries, squirming beneath me and muttering sobs into the blankets.

I want him on his stomach, his dick hidden from me. Because I don’t know what I’ll do if he’s not hard. I don’t know how to handle sexual rejection, and it will enrage me and scare me if I’m so into him when he wants nothing to do with me. I already know he’s not gay. He’s told me. Asked me not to assault him. Begged for time alone.

But I’ve never been a good person, and my monsters are stronger than my morals.

I slide my cock through his ass crack, enraptured by the way it looks. Spreading him open with my free hand, I grind against him, slathering slick precum over his supple skin and into his crack. When he cries out, I press his face into the bedeven harder, unwilling to understand if his cries are pleasured or pained.

He’s not fighting me anymore, but he’s tense all over. The muscles in his back ripple with apprehension, and his ass wiggles beneath me. The material of my pants scrapes against his balls as I fuck his crack, keeping my pace slow but gripping him so hard he turns red. I like the way his thick thighs feel between my legs, shifting and writhing because he can’t stay still andtake it.

“Krypt.” He pushes his head into my hand, forcing me to let him breathe. He turns his face to the side and tries to look at me, but I refuse to let him. I want him to fear me, not pity me. Not mock me. “At least add lube or something. It hurts.”

I don’t care if it hurts. Do I?

I don’t think about it. I spit, letting it fall to his pink hole, spreading it up through his crease with the head of my cock to mingle with precum and turn him into a slippery mess. Letting go of his head, I pin his hips down and lean forward, fucking my cock against his ass harder.

Remiel’s breathing changes. His breaths come faster and grow shorter, and I don’t know what they mean, but I become frenzied. I spread him wide open and slide through his crack, pushing his cheeks together to fuck the tight space.

Tainted pleasure fills my body and entices my mind, and I spit again just so I can fuck it into his skin. It’s been a long time since I even touched myself, and the last time I came was down his throat, but fuck me. I’m there. On the razor’s edge of madness and pleasure, un-fucking-willing to pick a side. I want madness. I want pleasure. I want them both together.

Remiel hisses, maybe in pain, possibly in pleasure. Most likely in fear.

I need to brand him with something other than Menace’s marker. I fall over him, fucking against him and sucking a markto the side of his neck. When my breath hits his skin, I realize I’m panting. Rasping. Going goddamn mad with the need to claim him.

My cock slides over his ass and my teeth sink into the flesh of his shoulder, and when he cries out in pain, I lose my fucking mind. I latch onto him with my teeth and come all over his ass and back, gliding through it because I can’t stop. I won’t stop.

My body trembles on top of his, and I breathe around his skin, biting down hard enough to draw a little blood.

“Krypt! Jesus,” he complains, squirming.

I lick his blood and keep grinding. I don’t know how to stop. The warmth of his body and the slickness of my cum is such a perfect feeling that I need more. I want to spread him open and fuck into his tight ass, taking and taking and taking until he has nothing left to give and my monsters are finally sated.

“Fuck,” I groan, pressing my lips to his neck. Sitting upright, I admire the way I’ve coated him in cum.

Finally, something inside me settles. Menace’s marks aren’t the only ones covering him anymore.

The room glows purple and pulses to the sound of our breaths. No longer afraid of his eyes on me, I flip him over and peer down at him. His blue eyes are scared, but there’s something else in them, too. Something that looks a lot like I feel. Sickly sated.

I lick my lips and look down. His cock is softening, but it’s wet and shiny. When I look into his eyes again, he shakes his head and a tear leaks down his temple.

“Don’t,” he snaps at me. “Don’t fucking say it.”

He got off. He came. And he doesn’t like it.

11

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