Page 46 of The Chosen Son

There was no finesse to the way I claimed him, no grace or delicacy. It was raw, pure and simple. A melding of flesh, a claiming of souls.

He was so tight, hotter than he had any right to be as I drove into him, again and again, bracing myself against the wall. With the loss of sight, all other senses were heightened, overwhelming me. The aromas of slick and sweat, the texture of his smooth damp skin beneath my fingertips, his rough touch and the rasp of his whiskers burning with friction, our moans and curses wrapping around me and driving me half mad. It was enough to bring me to my knees, but even as I came down hard on the concrete, I kept a hold of him. I refused to lay him down on the filthy floor, no matter how I longed for the leverage to plow into him properly.

“Oh fuck, Deimos, harder!” he cried, looking for purchase, his hands flailing in the dark as he searched for something to hold onto. He wrestled for control, finally planting his feet flat on the floor to lift himself off me. He rose up until only the tip of my cock remained inside him, then he dropped down, impaling himself on me with a wet slap of flesh.

“Again,” I grunted, doing everything in my power to keep my wits about me, ready to catch him if he fell.

I couldn’t see him in the darkness, but the image I conjured of him in my mind was glorious. With every grind of his hips, I was driven closer to the edge, pressure building. I was already so damn close, but I couldn’t come before him. I had a reputation to maintain, after all, and if I didn’t properly satisfy him, what reason would he have to stick around?

And I knew with certainty, as I squeezed his ass in my hands and buried myself inside his depths, that I desperately wanted him to stay, because once would never be enough.

I could feel the tension in him, his body taut and his rhythm stuttering. “Give me your knot, alpha,” he demanded. “Please?” He whispered the last word, the only hint of weakness in his mask of perfect control.

“I’ll give you what you need,” I vowed.

With my arms locked around him, I brought him to the brink with bruising force. Slick coated my thighs beneath him, and his back arched as he threw his head back and cursed to the heavens. There was so much pent-up anger and frustration, and he let it all out in one long howl. His channel clamped down around me as he came, his hot cum spilling between us in spurts. It was what I’d been waiting for, and with jaw-clenching force, I finally unleashed my own climax. My knot expanded from the base of my shaft, forcing its way past the ring of muscle, stretching him even further.

Cameron was mine now, there was no taking that back.

With one last spasm, one final gasp, he lost his grip on me, sagging limply, but he seemed to trust that I would never let him fall. I cradled him in my arms, close to my chest, as we panted to catch our breaths. I could feel his heartbeat where he was pressed against me, fluttering, soft as a butterfly’s wings, achingly mortal.

I couldn’t remember anyone ever making me feel so…vulnerable. As terrifying as that thought I was, I refused to turn away.

Cameron nestled against me, shifting in my lap and tugging on my knot, making us both groan. He pressed a soft kiss against the side of my neck. “I think I might hate you a little less now…”

We both laughed, and a feeling of accomplishment spread through me, promising to keep me warm all night.

Chapter 19

Cameron

Waking slowly, I rolledover and reached for Deimos, but instead, I found the bed empty and the satin sheets cold beside me. I held my breath, waiting for the regret over what we’d done, but it never came. Last night was… something else. I didn’t have a lot of experience when it came to sex, but even I knew that had been better than your average roll in the hay. It had been charged, electric, and just in case I thought the first time had been a fluke, Deimos had been sure to repeat the performance twice more for good measure, once in the kitchen and finally once in his bed.

It wasn’t just about sex, though. It was about Deimos, the man behind the god. He wasn’t anything like his brother. Not as honorable or as outwardly kind, but that only meant that when he was tender with me, I felt like I had earned it. There was just something about him that had gotten under my skin.

When most people thought about a gift to a lover, they might think chocolate, flowers, or sexy underwear. Not Deimos, though. He’d given me a taste of revenge.

Raised to fight against evil incarnate, I’d grown up knowing that violence had a place in this world. When I thought of Scott, though, how pathetic and weak and small he’d looked while begging on his knees, I realized I probably hadn’t needed to hit him. To abase and humiliate him in the way I had.

But did I regret it? Not even a little. It was something I never would’ve asked for, but maybe it was something I hadn’t known I’d needed. A way to put the past behind me. It was only a pity Scott wouldn’t remember that moment, to relive it every time he thought of me.

As my thoughts took a dark turn, I made a conscious decision to live in the light instead.

I wonder where Deimos went and if he might be in the mood for a proper good morning…

I went to sit up, and out of nowhere, the room tilted at an obscene angle, throwing my world into a spin. I groaned and fell back, clenching my eyes closed. “Not again,” I whimpered.

I’d been trying to ignore it, the tingle at the tips of my fingers. I told myself I was imagining it, like a phantom limb, but I knew that was a big fat lie, right up there with Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny.

My powers were slowly coming back.

It was like a creeping ivy, barely noticeable at first, easy to ignore, but the second you took your eye off it, it would be overgrown, choking the life from me. I could no longer pretend it wasn’t happening, the powers rising inside me again. And with it, the illness would return, like an infection, lesions in my brain robbing me of my ability to function.

Why did I think Deimos could cure me, could take them away permanently? The powers would just keep coming back, like refilling a cup. Could I convince him to take a little more?

I’d chewed the inside of my cheek raw by the time I was interrupted. My phone gave a loud trill, and I turned my head toward the nightstand, to find that Deimos had set my cell there at some point. I stretched out my arm and grabbed the phone, glancing at the call display.

I sighed, bracing myself for what I knew would be a difficult conversation. “Hey, boss,” I answered, trying to keep my voice light.

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