Page 39 of Beyond Hate

“You’re fucked up, London. So fucked up that you want to come with my hand around your cock even though you watched me kill a man… just because you want to be good for me, don’t you?” Something about his cool, almost melodic voice saying such dirty things—suchtruethings—made it impossible for me to resist. Impossible for me to deny.

Impossible for me to do anything but give in to it when he stroked me one more time and dug his fingers into my waist. I came hard, my breath punching from my chest in a low groan and my fingers scrambling to hold on to something.

To hold on to anything.

To hold on to him.

My nails bit into his wrists as I whined, and even as my vision blurred with pleasure, I couldn’t look away from his face. Fromthose cat-green eyes burning with hellfire while he watched me fall apart.

I couldn’t move when he leaned in and pressed his mouth to mine so he could drink down the sounds I was making.

He kissed me until I was breathless again, pumped my cock through my orgasm until I was twitching and oversensitive… and then lifted his hand and painted my lips with my own cum. He coated my tongue with it, then leaned in and licked the taste out of my mouth, and I felt the low rumbling sound that ripped from his chest when he pulled back.

“Fuck, you really have no survival instincts, London.”

Yeah… maybe he was right.

I just didn’t have it in me to tell him that when he smoothed his fingers through my hair one more time before standing up. I didn’t have it in me to say anything when he looked down at me on the couch, my shirt rucked up over my stomach, my pants clinging wetly to my cock with cum…

Debauched.

Fucked up.

I wasn’t sure what word to use anymore.

“Otto…” It took me three times to manage his name, but he just shook his head.

“Try not to do anything that will get someone else killed while I’m gone, London.”

I wasn’t sure if the burn in my eyes was from shame or because he stood after that and quietly walked out the front door.

Chapter 14

Otto

Myentirebodytingledwith the knowledge of what I’d just done. I’d gone to London’s apartment to set things straight—maybe to figure myself out. I’d gone to get answers.

I hadn’t gone there to fuck his throat.

I hadn’t gone there to watch him fall apart when I gave him the softest touch after, the smallest little utterance of praise. I hadn’t gone there to make himfeelgood, but watching pleasure blossom across his face had been so addictive, sonew.

He was so hungry for me, so attuned to my body and needs. It was…

Impossible. Because what he was now wouldn’t have been what I needed when we’d been alive before.

But he was the perfect pretty little victim for the monster I’d become—the monster he’d made me. He was the sweet rabbit to my wolf, and he was ready to let me spill his blood across the snow as long as I licked the wound after.

It made no sense… and I wondered… I truly wondered exactly how much of my life was left up to my own design, and how much shit likefatereally determined.

It left me restless when I turned my back on his apartment and went to the place I’d rented nearby. The month I’d spent watching London fall back into the life I’d taken him from, I’d also used to go through the data I’d taken from Nathaniel West’s facility. I’d looked at it on a surface level before, but I had nothing but time now that I was free from his grasp—time and curiosity and the beginnings of a theory that I wasn’t really in control of anything at all.

Because the files…

The files had everything. The other experiments, the failures. The successes. The enemies Nathaniel had made along the way. I was pretty sure he’d brought me back in an attempt to keep himself safe from those people.

It hadn’t done him a damn bit of good in the end, but that didn’t matter. Axel had been right—I’d played a good dog on a leash, but in the end I wasn’t there to be chained.

Not when it would have cost me…

---