Undone

by R Phoenix

  “Yeah, I bet it’s hard to close your mouth now, eh?” Davenport smirked, petting him on the cheek condescendingly, as though he were the only one who had contributed to the soreness of Kolt’s jaw.

  Arrogant pencil-dicked fuck.

  “I’ll live,” Kolt said with a sweet smile.

  “Ha!” Davenport said. “Of course you will.” Another pat on the cheek, then the man gallantly held out a hand to help him back up

  He took Davenport’s hand and got to his feet, not at all eager to go back out onto the casino floor. If Leandro saw he was done here, he’d undoubtedly have the next one lined up and already hard for him…

  It made him long for the previous week when the only cock he’d had to be concerned with was Leandro’s. The fae hadn’t let him out of his fucking sight for even a minute, and he hadn’t had to deal with the guests at all.

  Now, he barely saw Leandro. When he did, it was only to be told who to go to next. In other words, whose dick to suck next. Whatever restrictions he’d had on him before were fucking gone. It was back to the same old shit — but worse.

  Once again, he was being whored out for the enjoyment of others, without even the illusion that he was anything more than the fae’s slut. It was like Leandro had kept track of who had missed out on his services last week and was making sure he got to all of them now.

  He couldn’t stay away from the casino floor either, not without getting in trouble. He left with Davenport, allowing the man to put his arm around him as they headed back down the stairs to the casino. Davenport was trying to decide what his next game of chance should be, and he stayed close to the man, even if he wanted nothing more but to be away from him then — him, and his disgusting smug self-assuredness, but that same disgusting smug self-assuredness granted him a reprieve, even if it wouldn’t last long.

  “Kolt,” Gideon said from next to him, and Kolt looked up wearily. “Leandro needs to see you. He’s—”

  Kolt nodded, not needing to be told where Leandro was. He was on the couch to the right of the bar, where they had been the night before he’d taken the bracelet off. It seemed like the fae lived there now, serving as a constant reminder of the last time he’d been in his good graces.

  “I know,” Kolt said, disentangling himself from Davenport, who reluctantly let go of him.

  “No kiss?” the guy asked with a laugh, even though he wasn’t really joking.

  Kolt wanted to groan, but instead he sweetly leaned in to place a quick peck on the man’s lips. “When the master calls,” Kolt sing-songed at him, just to remind him they weren’t fucking boyfriends.

  Gideon looked grim, like someone had kicked his puppy, but Kolt didn’t ask or acknowledge the fact. He had been hovering a lot lately. It was fucking irritating, but it was undoubtedly part of Leandro’s wishes to make sure he played by the rules and acted the whore he wanted him to be.

  “You wanted me?” Kolt asked Leandro with a cocky jut of his hip, while looking as innocent as if he wasn’t aware of the double entendre.

  “I always want you,” Leandro purred — predictably — before waving his hand to dismiss Gideon.

  The man dipped his head. With a last glance at Kolt, he moved to hover a little farther up, his back turned to them for some makeshift privacy.

  “It seems you’ve been busy,” Leandro drawled, his voice every bit as innocent as Kolt’s greeting.

  “Hmm…” Kolt hummed, sagging down on the couch next to the fae.

  Part of him wanted to mention that his jaw was sore from the many blowjobs that Leandro kept sending him off to, that his throat was dry and painful, that he felt tired and was hurting in places he didn’t want to be hurting in. But he didn’t want to provoke the fae’s ire — not tonight, not when he was feeling this emotionally exhausted. Another fight was the last thing he needed.

  “Yeah,” Kolt said after a moment, with little inflection to his voice. “Seems I have some catching up to do, or something…” He turned his head to look at Leandro, who began stroking his hair like he was petting a cat.

  “I thought you’d appreciate having a veritable buffet at your disposal,” the fae said, confirming that all of this was done deliberately to fuck with him. The smile on his lips might’ve been charming at any other time, but Kolt found it revolting. “I wouldn’t want you to get hungry, my Kolt.”

  Of course he didn’t. Last time he’d tried putting him on a fucking diet, he’d found himself on the shit end of the stick as the all-you-can-eat-buffet. Perhaps the fae had finally come to accept that it was just a bad fucking idea to be the sole source of food for an incubus, though Kolt wasn’t sure he liked the alternative.

  Kolt was smart enough not to say that. He just offered an empty smile. His hostile feelings towards the fae didn’t stop him from flexing his jaw and sidling up a little closer against Leandro.

  He wasn’t going to fucking ask for it, but he wanted a fucking break from sucking dick.

  “Are you enjoying yourself?” Leandro asked. “I’ve been doing my best to make sure you wouldn’t go wanting.”

  Kolt glanced at Leandro, not sure who he thought he was fooling with the supposed concern for his well-being. The asshole had tried to starve him before, and now he had the ridiculous idea to try and overfeed him instead.

  “I didn’t realize,” Kolt said coyly, “I’d spooked you that badly…”

  “Hmm.” The fae’s fingers slid down Kolt’s cheek. “Is it too much, my Kolt?” he inquired. “You aren’t too terribly tired, are you?”

  He wanted to say yes, to admit defeat and just tell Leandro that he hated this. He didn’t particularly like the idea of showing his cards to the fae though, to let him know what he liked or disliked, what made him tick… It would only give Leandro ammunition to use against him.

  The fae already had enough of that.

  “I can handle it,” Kolt said noncommittally.

  “Good,” Leandro said, leaning in and claiming a slow, deep kiss. “When you’re done for the evening, get yourself bathed, then come to me.”

  “Am I not done yet?” Kolt asked, against better judgment.

  Leandro arched a brow. “Of course not. You need to stay well-fed, Kol’tso.”

  He wanted to groan, but he didn’t. He just kept quiet, silently hating the fae. He hated him for being too weak, for being insidious, for being fae.

  “Okay,” he said coolly, toying with the chain of the choke collar that hung down his chest.

  Leandro’s hand slid down to the chain, closing over Kolt’s fingers. “Say the word,” he purred softly, directly into Kolt’s ear and sending goosebumps across his flesh, “and it’ll stop. You know what the price is.”

  The bracelet, he presumed, but he didn’t want to know for sure. He wasn’t going to let that happen to him again. He leaned into Leandro slowly and carefully. “What will stop…?” he asked innocently, because he acted innocent like the best of them.

  The fae sharply nipped his earlobe then drew back. “I’m sure you’re being missed, Kolt. Perhaps you should return to the floor, hmm?”

  Kolt tried his best not to make a face. “Sure,” he said flatly. “Anyone in particular you’d want to gift the pleasure of my company?” he asked.

  Before Leandro could answer him, though, there was a commotion at the door. Loud, unfamiliar voices invaded the room, and he could hear Darcy snarl something unflattering about the casino being private property and where they could stick their badges.

  “We have a warrant, so step aside, Miss,” a bombastic male voice said.

  Gideon glanced back at them before abandoning his post as fucking hovercraft to go see what the fuss was about.

  Kolt sat up a little straighter.

  “All right, everybody. Please stay calm and stay seated,” the same voice continued.

  Kolt craned his neck to see what was going on.

  “This is a random identification check. Please have your ID cards ready when an officer comes to verify them,” the man went
on as he came closer. He had to be at least fifty, silver all over from his scruffy facial hair to the hair on his head. He was wearing the telltale jacket of the Organization.

  Kolt glanced at Leandro, wondering if the fae had known this would happen. Leandro looked pissed, so it wasn’t likely.

  “Please remain where you are—” the man directed, but Gideon cut him off, taking to conversing more quietly with him.

  In true Gideon fashion, the conversation seemed direct and to the point. He gestured outside, undoubtedly reiterating Darcy’s words, but with less profanity.

  Kolt couldn’t hear the conversation, but the blue-framed letter the older cop shoved into Gideon’s chest to cut the conversation short had to be the warrant they had mentioned.

  He knew for a fact he had never registered himself. It was a terrible idea as an incubus, and since coming to Leandro — well, frankly, he didn’t know what the fae had done on his behalf. He doubted it involved registering anything, given the hate the fae had for the Organization at large. He could be in real trouble here. It wasn’t like incubi were looked upon favorably.

  Before he could freak out, his thoughts were interrupted by the sight of the detective he’d slept with, the guy who had started all the bullshit between him and Leandro. He was standing behind the older cop, to the right, trying to look inconspicuous, but shabbily dressed as he was, he stuck out like a sore thumb among the dozen sharply-dressed Organization officers and the casino goers.

  Leandro rose slowly, and there was something deadly in the motion. The casino might’ve been the only thing he was more obsessed with than Kolt himself, and to have it violated by humans as well…

  Kolt got up on his feet to follow him, not keen on being left alone in the midst of all this.

  Gideon handed the paper over like a good lackey. Kolt couldn’t imagine he’d ever been quite so sidelined by a simple piece of paper. Gideon always liked to solve things by hitting them, after all.

  Leandro scanned the paperwork, as though he actually knew what he was looking at, other than words on a page and a signature. “A raid?” Leandro asked, his voice just a bit too quiet. “Is that what the Organization has stooped to?” His eyes were intent upon the detective at first, then he glanced back at the lead officer. “Wasting time and resources on this pointless endeavor?” Despite the fae’s cool demeanor, his rage crackled around him like static electricity in the air before lightning struck ground.

  Gideon’s eyes were on the detective, too, but Kolt couldn’t read his emotions or the expression on his face.

  “Please just go back to your seat, sir,” the officer in charge told Leandro, with a calming hand gesture — as if that would do anything.

  “This is my place of business. I demand to know what grounds you have for—” Leandro started, sounding official.

  Even then, the lead officer shut him down plainly. “We have a credible source reporting unregistered otherkin on these grounds. If you are the establishment’s owner, you may be held accountable for any discrepancies,” the officer said. The man was positively pleased with himself, even if his expression remained impassive. Kolt could feel the sense of self-satisfaction down to his bones as surely as he could feel Leandro’s rage.

  Leandro chuckled, ignoring the command to sit back down, ignoring everything in fact, but his eyes burned with fury as he sought out the detective again. “I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding, Officer,” he stated. “You are, I’m sure, aware that not everyone carries their identification everywhere they go?”

  The lead officer’s expression was stony. “Registration of otherkin and verification of that registration and identity are required to be available upon request.”

  “Ah.” Leandro gazed past the man.

  Kolt could swear Detective Ackerman was avoiding making any eye contact, instead looking busy with another officer and going over something on a tablet. There was a lot of nodding involved, and Kolt looked back at Leandro.

  The fae was murderous, and he had found his black sheep.

  If Leandro was held accountable for every otherkin without proper registration, he would be in for trouble regardless. As benign as it seemed, everyone in otherkin society knew what would happen if something went sour. The registration was for everyone’s “safety,” of course, but it meant otherkin society was always one incident away from a witch hunt.

  The officer nodded to the others on his team. “Get started, O’Brian. Connelly, start there. Larson, Jawadi,” he ordered, and gestured his team in different directions, to cover ground and keep anyone from slipping out. When everyone was put to task, he turned back to Leandro. “Do you have your ID on you?” the lead officer asked Leandro, taking a tablet from someone to his left and unlocking it.

  Leandro smiled, but it was brittle. “As I said, not everyone carries their identification. I’ll need to go upstairs to find it.”

  “Dougal, Arabesk,” the silver-haired man called, beckoning two men over. “Escort Leandro to get his identification.”

  “His as well,” Leandro added with a jerk of his head in Kolt’s direction. “He’s my slave, and he isn’t permitted to carry such things.” He smiled, his hand sliding to Kolt’s ass. “And where would he?”

  The officer’s expression remained passive, but Kolt felt something dark and angry from the man. He nodded. “Get his, too,” he ordered the pair of officers as they approached.

  Leandro’s hand didn’t move from his ass, and he nudged Kolt in the direction of the stairs. He really didn’t want to go with an angry Leandro to get something he was half-certain didn’t fucking exist, no matter what Leandro said — and certainly not with a pair of Organization officers. This would only end badly, and he would be a fucking witness.

  “It’s this way,” Leandro said, opening the door to the stairs and holding it open for their escorts, pleasant to the point of disbelief.

  “I’ll take them,” someone cut in before they could leave the casino floor completely.

  Officers Dougal and Arabesk looked at the detective and exchanged a look.

  “Connelly could use some help, and this is just escort, right? I think I can handle it,” Ackerman said.

  Leandro’s hand tightened on Kolt’s ass, as if it was a stress ball.

  “Fine,” one of the officers said. “Straight back down, keep your radio on,” he instructed the detective.

  Kolt couldn’t help but feel they were being a little pointlessly neurotic. It wasn’t like a radio was going to stop an angry fae looking to murder someone.

  “Detective Ackerman,” Leandro said with a slight bow of his head. “It’s wonderful to see you again. Would you like to frisk me before we go upstairs? Make sure I’m not carrying a weapon?”

  The fae was a fucking weapon.

  “Don’t draw attention to us,” Detective Ackerman said, his tone dark. “Just move. We need to talk,” he pressed insistently, pushing the door leading from the casino to the rooms upstairs open and letting him and Leandro pass.

  “I can wait down here—” Kolt began, but Leandro’s hand shifted from his ass to his shoulder, tightening a little.

  “You’re with me, Kol’tso,” Leandro insisted, urging him along up the stairs as he had done so many times.

  But now with the detective at their backs, Kolt barely dared to breathe.

  Leandro led them upstairs without a word, looking for all the world like he was relaxed and comfortable with the entire situation.

  Kolt could still feel it, though — the almost mindless, feral rage that spilled from him and only grew more intense as they got farther away from the rest of the officers.

  They reached the door, and with a flick of his wrist, Leandro dismissed the wards and opened it. “After you,” Leandro purred, remaining cooperative in that way that made Kolt more than a little worried for Ackerman. Would Leandro actually kill him with Organization officers downstairs?

  “Nah, you lead,” the detective said, glancing behind them for a moment.

&nb
sp; Kolt wanted to tell him that no one down there would be able to hear what happened upstairs, but he couldn’t exactly say that without making it sound like a threat.

  “As you wish,” Leandro said, stepping inside. Once they were in the inner sanctum, the fae closed the door and the wards snapped into place, effectively trapping them inside.

  Kolt already didn’t want to be there. He didn’t even know why he was there, but with Leandro’s mood, he knew better than to ask any dumb questions.

  “All right,” the detective said drawing in a deep breath. “Your boy insisted I get on board. I’m now officially on board, but I can’t keep coming up here to talk to you. I’ll get kicked off the task force faster than you can say blackmail.”

  Leandro strolled farther into his home, going to the door of the room that served as his study. “Mm. I imagine it would be difficult to remove you from the force, since you haven’t done anything,” he said in that too-silken voice.

  Kolt sat down on the couch in the den, hoping not to draw attention to himself. He didn’t want to give Leandro a reason to lose his shit on him. Again.

  “It’s not like I’m a model agent,” Ackerman said, drawing his eyebrows up, before frowning. “The whole reason I got this gig was as a punishment for fucking up on the real police force. So now I’m corralling vampires and werewolves like it’s fucking Twilight, and even that they don’t trust me with, so it wouldn’t be hard at all to take me off of the Fae Task Force.”

  “You aren’t a model informant either, Detective,” Leandro said, unlocking the door to his study without a glance over his shoulder.

  The detective rolled his eyes and looked at Kolt, smirking knowingly. “I have my talents,” he answered dryly, his eyes still on Kolt, still with that smirk.

  Against all odds, Kolt felt a blush rise to his cheeks. Fucking hell, he didn’t want to be part of this fucking pissing contest. He quickly looked away.

  “Like for example, working my way onto the biggest research task force within a week of getting assigned to this department,” he explained. “Your grunt made it pretty obvious I had to speed things along, so you gotta take some of the rough with it, okay? That’s what I need to talk to you about,” he continued, following Leandro.