Page 5 of The Devil's Bargain
“You tried that already,” Mercy stated. “It didn’t work then, it won’t work now.”
“Hold on,” Aodhan parroted, turning to hide his face in the crook of Cal’s neck. “Just…give us a moment.”
“You’ve got to push your stamina his way,” Mercy chuckled. “Don’t let his feelings take the lead, little killer.”
“Easy for you to say,” he growled. “He’s everywhere, Mercy.”
A rush of awe mixed with pride and a dash of humor swept over Calix, and he struggled to sort through the onslaught of emotions. Tried to untangle what he was feeling from the foreign sensations he realized were coming from the other two, but it was impossible. All it did was open him up for further attack, his confusion and mild panic rushing through the connection to muddy the already dark waters.
“May the gods have mercy on that poor boy’s soul,” Cal uttered the phrase, then burst out in a fit of laughter that shook all three of them.
Aodhan growled and pressed in closer, shifting as his cock grew and lengthened inside of Calix, stretching his wallsand pushing him toward that edge all over again. “The only gods here are us, Be’urn.”
“The only god here is Cal,” Mercy corrected, settling himself over Aodhan’s back as he increased the tempo of his thrusts. “And we’re here to worship at his altar.”
“If the altar is his body,” Aodhan licked at Calix’s jaw, “then I’m in. Both literally and figuratively. I’m going to be so good to you, Be’urn. Treat you the way you were meant to be treated. Hurt you and comfort you and love you so,” he rolled his hips, “good.”
“You’re babbling,” Mercy pointed out.
“He likes it.”
Cal did. He’d always enjoyed the sound of the doctor’s voice and the dirty words he spoke so patiently whenever he pinned him down and unapologetically took from him.
Mercy tipped his head and then smirked. “So he does.”
The doctor kept talking as Mercy continued to screw them well into the night and through the morning.
And into the next night.
So on and so on until the days blended together and Calix could no longer recall his own name, let alone what day of the week it was.
* * *
“Hurts,” someone complained and whimpered, the sound coming close enough that it managed to rouse Calix from his slumber.
“I know, baby, bear with it,” Mercy’s unmistakable voice cajoled, and Calix blinked, slowly bringing the world back into focus.
He was soaking in the large tub, propped against the end with his arms and head resting on the edge, no doubt to prevent him from slipping beneath the water. His muscles ached, butan energy thrummed through him, something potent and strong and foreign. When he subconsciously reached for it, it tugged, and he followed the sensation to the director who was in the center of the bathroom.
Mercy had Aodhan bent over the sink, his hand between the doctor’s cheeks as he rubbed ointment on the man’s abused hole.
There were scratch marks all over Aodhan’s back and down his sides, and Calix pursed his lips, vaguely recalling being the one who put them there. When he tried to latch onto a memory, however, it fluttered away, leaving him with a sense of frustration that managed to cut through everything else being thrown his way through the connection.
Sensing it, Mercy glanced over his shoulder at him, catching his gaze with a steady look. Out of the three of them, he appeared to be the only one unaffected.
Calix’s annoyance grew.
“I’ll be with you in a moment, precious,” Mercy told him, “don’t fret.”
Cal shivered at the term of endearment, not sure if he liked it or if it made him feel…delicate. Delicate in a way he didn’t relate to. He may be broken, but that didn’t mean he was fragile.
He was an ex I.P.F. agent. He didn’t need protection, or—
“Quiet, Cal,” Mercy’s tone turned firm. “Aodhan doesn’t enjoy pain the way you do. You’re making his headache worse.”
“Not my head that needs soothing,” the doctor disagreed somewhat petulantly. “Don’t listen to him, Be’urn. It’s our First’s fault I’m like this. He’s the one who tore through my hole like it was tissue paper. I swear, I won’t sit comfortably for days. If I can’t walk, Mercy, you’re going to have to carry me. No arguing.”
The director chuckled and planted a loving kiss on the back of Aodhan’s shoulder. “Of course, little killer. Now, stay still so I can finish up here. Our Third also needs tending.”
