by Skyler Andra
My heart clenched at the depth of misery in his eyes when I crawled to face him again.
“I’ve never cared about any of those things,” I stated softly because some of the dreams that I had had in the land of the dead were beginning to make sense.
“Look,” Mads said, struggling to keep a fake smile on his face. “I know what I am and what I’ve got to offer, and that’s just a good time, plain and simple. People like me because I’m fun. Because I dress in flashy clothes, drive fast cars, stay in the best part of town, and eat at the best restaurants. And because I can get anything they want: money, drugs, booze, exclusive invitations to what-the-fuck-ever. The cops never see me and the bouncers always let me by.”
He ran a rough hand through his hair, the flicker of pain in his eyes cutting me deep.
“I’m not mad about it or any kind of crap like that. Just… let it go.”
On another level, something fascinated me about this situation; the unbearable intimacy and honesty he exposed were things I didn’t know if anyone had ever heard Mads admit before. Even if it did hurt him I also hoped that this would in some small way help him heal as well. Wasn’t this why we were here? To face his greatest regrets and fears?
“Are you really going to make me say it?” I asked quietly, sitting up to wrap my thighs around his sides and slip my hands around his chest.
He glanced at me in a way that told me he wanted me to go away.
“You’re going to ask if I love you,” I said gently.
Disarmed by my statement, he jumped as if I had fired a gun next to his ear. The truth was scribbled all over his face and the only thing that kept him from running was the fact that I was twined around him, which both of us knew felt very, very good.
“And because I’m good to fuck.” God, why did he insist on torturing himself like this?
“Show me,” I whispered into his ear, squeezing him tighter, his warmth merging from his body with mine.
I could have said that it was all for him. That this was all to get him out of the hell that this terrible place had put him in, but that would have made it a special kind of lie. I wanted to prove a point. The truth of it was Mads was amazing to fuck.
He shuffled to face me, grabbing me as if he had been waiting for the okay all along. In an instant he pushed me on my back and crushed me against his chest. I stopped caring whether anyone peeked at us from beyond the curtain or who’d been fucking here before us. Mads, sliding one thigh between mine, leaned down to kiss me, losing his usual gentle and sweet act. This time he was rough and clumsy, pinching my lower lip between his teeth, making me draw back a little.
“Easy,” I muttered, and he moved his hot mouth to my neck, making me squirm at how his lips and teeth made me arch against him.
“It’s so hard being easy with you,” he whispered thickly against my skin, setting it alight.
I put my arms around him and held him close. We were more alike than I thought. Two fucked-up people who had always needed so much more love than available around us.
“Then don’t be,” I said in response. “I promise, I’m not going anywhere.”
He didn’t respond, probably because he didn’t believe me yet, and I understood it would take time to win that trust. Right now, all I wanted was for him to open himself up to the possibility that I’d never desert him. To know I was his.
Gentle but no less intense, his hands skimmed over me, peeling me out of the skimpy clothes that this stupid world had dressed me in.
“I like you better naked,” he groaned, and I laughed.
“Me too!”
Once unclothed, something in him relaxed a little and that allowed him to take his time tracing aimless patterns over my thighs and hips. He pressed his muscled thigh between my legs, parting them before sliding it against my wet flesh.
“You warm up for me real fast,” he complimented.
“Of course I do,” I retorted. “Why are you so surprised?”
He gasped when I squeezed his leg between my thigh, letting him truly feel how wet I was, and how much I wanted him. Graceful fingers glided along my slit and I whimpered a little, digging my fingernails into his chest, arching against his touch. He knew just how to please me as I rocked against him, the sweetness of my growing arousal flowing over me like water. It would be the easiest thing in the world to let him get me off, but that wasn’t what I wanted with Mads. Not then.
The memory of the night we shared in the hotel came back to me when we’d decided to have fun and blow off steam. How he’d licked, sucked, and bit me, making me come so hard I’d seen stars. God, had he really been in love with me all the way back then? Was that why he refused to penetrate me? He’d blamed the stories Rane had told him about my powers. But from everything I’d gleamed of this hellhole, I gathered otherwise. He kept me at a distance, probably frightened he’d lose me like he lost his mother and father. I wasn’t going to let him push me away again.
“Let me ride you,” I said breathlessly.
He grinned, rolling onto his back. “All right, beautiful. Whatever you want.”
I straddled his thighs, running my hands against his jeans, stopping at the zipper to slowly pull it down. He groaned as I removed out his cock, closing my hand along the shaft, stroking him twice. Power welled within me, and I almost pulled a condom out of thin air. But then I realized there were no real bodies to worry about in here, meaning I could enjoy it flesh to flesh.
Mads watched me with a hungry look. I leaned down to close my mouth over his cock, lapping at the head while I drew my hand along his shaft. Body drawing tight, he let out a soft hiss, his hands threading through my hair. Unlike others, he didn’t thrust up into my mouth or push my head down.
Such a polite boy, I thought with a certain amount of glee.
At times, I enjoyed giving head when the recipient remained respectful, and teasing Mads was a pleasure all on its own. He might have had plans about taking control, but I controlled things while I crouched over his body, sucking him off with my fist around the base of his cock. Once or twice tension in him rose that seemed like he reached the breaking point, so I pulled back, making him curse.
“You keep that up and I won’t be able to warn you when I come,” he said, making me laugh.
“Oh, what a tragedy. I guess I better change it up, huh?”
I put a finger to his lips, rising to straddle him again. Excited by the fact that his cock glistened with wetness from my mouth, I ground against him, his hardness pressed against my lower belly.
“Fuck,” Mads groaned, his hands clasping my hips. “Please, Locke!”
Better. Closer to what we needed. After a moment I stopped denying us. With gentle maneuvering I positioned his cock at my opening, accepting the first few inches into me.
“Locke…” he groaned, eyes clamped tight.
“Be patient…”
Suiting words to deed, I slid down on him slowly, pulling back every time he groaned. I liked, making him wait the way he made me. He shook beneath me, desperate for more. I took him in, relishing how good he felt, how amazing he looked sprawled beneath me.
“You know that I’m falling for you, right?” I asked, touching his cheek.
Mads’ eyes flew open and he looked at me with confusion. “What?”
Oh god. Was this the part when he told me he didn’t care for me?
Chapter 16
Locke
I swallowed hard, terrified of what came next, but his eyes begged for me to keep going.
“I can see it with the powers Cupid gave me,” I explained, rocking my hips against his, his cock sliding inside of me. “But it’s more than that. I can feel it.”
“Bet you can,” he growled, trying to thrust up into me, but I raised myself until only his head remained inside me. When he forced me down, I pushed his hands aside, pinning his wrists down. Mads was stronger than me by far, but right now he was looking up at me in shock.
“No, dummy,” I said. “In my heart. I
love you, and it has nothing to do with fast cars, fun restaurants or tickets to Hamilton or whatever.”
“Yes, tell me why,” he demanded in both a threat and plea.
God, this might make me cry if I wasn’t so turned on.
“So many reasons,” I started. “Because you’re smart, funny, and hell, why don’t we start with the fact that you saved me the first night we met and look out for me.”
We moved together steadily, and I don’t know why lovers never talked while they fucked. Getting this off my chest and the feeling of him inside me was heaven. The words wove us together instead of driving us apart. Maybe it was just a Cupid thing.
“You’re brave too, you know that?” I continued, squeezing my pussy as he moaned long and low. “You make a big deal about running off whenever things get hard, but you always come back, don’t you? You’re there for me, and you care for me.”
I stilled for a moment and Mads snarled at me for what I presumed was driving him utterly insane. The gold cord binding us wiggled with our movements, sparkling from the emotions pulsing between us. He didn’t need to say it. I read it in his thread.
“More, please,” he begged, and with a grin I kept talking him out of this hellhole.
“And it’s not about what you can do for me,” I sped up my pace, bending my head back, enjoying the drive of his cock in my pussy. “It’s about what we can do together, Mads. We are going to have so much fun, do you hear me? I love you, and that is the truth. I wouldn’t lie to you about this.”
His neck strained. “Please, God, don’t lie to me about this.”
“Never,” I panted, leaning back, taking him from a different angle. “My cord belongs to you, and you’re mine. You’re utterly perfect and I will tell you that every day if that’s what you want. Do you understand?”
“Locke…” he groaned while thrusting up into me; but I held myself still, not letting him reach the fulfillment that my body had so traitorously promised him.
“Come on, sweetheart.” I cupped his face. “I promise you can trust me. I’m not going to run off the first time you become inconvenient or the second you can’t give me a good time. I’m here for all of it. And the deal comes with Rane and Byron too. Say it. Tell me you understand.”
Something in him fought me. A war raging within him. Hesitation. Fear. Confusion. Distrust. It all flashed behind his eyes. In that moment, I would have killed everyone who ever hurt him or used him and threw him away.
“You love me,” he said with wonder, and something shifted inside him.
“I’ll tell you that every day if you want.”
“Yes, oh, yes.”
At that moment I didn’t need for him to say it back. All he needed was to understand that to escape the hell this place trapped him in.
Unable to resist him any longer, I drove myself down on him, gasping as I took the full length of his cock inside me. Usually I needed more pressure on my clit to come, but almost instantly I convulsed with euphoric pleasure. I leaned down close to him, pressing my forehead against his shoulder as the powerful waves rolled over us both. His arms wrapped around me, so desperate, so painfully sweet. Right then, I couldn’t imagine a world without him.
A few minutes later my body still trembled from the power of my orgasm.
Mads shifted to his side, allowing me to lie down next to him. He soothed me with soft kisses, each sweet, gentle and kind.
Many things still needed attending to, but for the moment all that mattered was staying next to him, touching him, listening to his heartbeat and his measured breaths.
“I didn’t say it back,” he said lowly.
I stirred at his words, propping myself up on one elbow to look at him. “Okay.”
“Aren’t you worried about that?”
I figured he’d say it when he was ready—when those walls crashed down, when he learned to trust me and knew that I wasn’t leaving him behind if things got rough.
“Are you planning to run off with a circus or something?”
He blinked. “No.”
“Are you going to empty out my bank account and head for Barcelona?”
“Do you have enough in your bank account to get to Barcelona?”
“Rude!”
“Your apartment didn’t exactly scream jetsetter, that’s all.”
I laughed, snuggling closer, running my nails along his forearm. “I’ve never seen your place, you know.”
“But you love me.”
Dammit. What was with all the questions? It was like he needed convincing of my feelings.
“Yes. With all of my heart.”
Just a few months ago, I wouldn’t have been able to say any of that without wanting to run for the hills. I supposed that was the thing about the big truths. Until you knew them, they were just trite and corny. Now I knew them to be the truest things I’d ever experienced.
“A third of your heart,” Mads corrected.
“Stop it.” I kissed him again. “I don’t expect you to tell me right away, but in the next fifty years might be nice.”
Mischief flared in his eyes and he grinned. “That might be asking a bit much of me.”
This time when I kissed him, he gave himself over to me. In my heart I wished that everything could be simpler, that we could merely kiss and hold each other and fuck, but we were adults, and we needed to use our words.
“God, you’re mine, Locke.” He kissed me, and I wanted to laugh and cry at how perfect those words were falling from his mouth. This was as good as I was going to get. As close to an I love you as possible and I accepted that with all my heart.
No relationship was perfect, and I expected some rough times ahead when our problems became too great and we might run. At least now we both knew there’d be someone to chase after us. That was all I needed.
Suddenly it felt as if Mads was truly waking up. He sat up, glancing around somewhat ruefully. “I might have wished that you’d never seen these parts of me.”
“Are you sorry?” I asked, rubbing his lower back.
He considered this, rubbing his eyes. “Sometimes I think Hermes chose me because he’s running some kind of long con, some kind of practical joke that will only become clear when I finally get sent to jail.”
“Mads…”
He flashed me a very familiar grin, and I knew that this time, I wasn’t mistaken. “Give me time. I’m sure that I’ll fuck up sometimes. But I promise you the very best of me if you will only keep having that same faith in me.”
“I promise.” On the proviso we got out of this place, of course.
I got up on my knees, grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet.
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s get out of here. I have to find Rane.”
Mads stopped me, frowning. “So, you’re telling me that Ares… Rane might be reliving his worst times, just as I did?”
“Yes, and we have to get him out too.”
“Rane, the soldier who is the avatar of one of the more bloodthirsty gods?”
“Are you going to keep on harping about it? He’s more than that and you know it.”
Mads’ jaw tightened. “We’re going to haul Rane out of a cesspool of hell, amid battlefields and people dying, and see if he needs some psychotherapy?”
I flinched. “Something like that.”
“Well, I wonder what kind of shit fight we’ll walk into.”
God, I hoped we didn’t enter a warzone. “We need to pull him out of whatever grasp this dumb thing has him in. We can’t just let him keep suffering. It’s better if we’re all together. It always is.”
For a moment, I thought Mads might fight me and refuse to go, but then he said with a sigh, “Bring on the bullets.”
“That’s the spirit!” I dragged him forward, ready to leave the sex cubicle when the rest of the club disappeared.
“Good riddance,” Mads muttered, and I couldn’t agree more.
We kept walking amid the amorphous mess of green and white swirls until
it shifted into another scene—a road that led into a small subdivision, the picture of suburbia, lined with identical two-story houses, matching letterboxes, neatly mowed lawns and manicured gardens. I turned three hundred and sixty degrees to take it in, shocked to think Rane had anything to do with a place like this.
Growing up, I’d lived in a beat-up old rental with doors falling off the hinges, rotten timber on the decking of our back porch, and stained carpets. Reg wasn’t exactly the handyman type. He preferred to sit on his ass all day and watch football. Mom cross-stitched and sipped on her bourbon and cokes.
“Stepford Wives anyone?” Mads asked caustically, and I couldn’t agree more.
We were both from more dysfunctional than average backgrounds. Maybe some people were comforted by the idea of all of this normality, but it wasn’t us.
“Let’s keep looking,” I suggested. “I figure this place is hardly hiding Rane any more than it hid you from me.”
We kept walking down the empty street that creeped me out. Cars parked in driveways and the sound of vacuum cleaners and TVs buzzing inside the houses told me people lived in them. But the sterility of it all, the same colors and the lack of life in the street, served to make me nervous.
It occurred to me that while Mads’ part of this prison felt painfully sharp, Rane’s was hazier and rougher. It gave me the impression that if I stayed in this place too long, I might forget about why I was here in the first place.
I shook my head firmly. This wasn’t the right place for either of us. Surely it couldn’t be the right place for Rane?
My answer arrived when we approached a house in the middle of a Cul-de-sac. Something about it seemed off. From the eerie silence inside to the unmowed lawn and dying plants in the garden bed, even the air surrounding it felt charged with fury.
“Rane’s in there,” I whispered.
Someone roared inside. Something smashed and a woman screamed. Seconds later a short, dark-haired woman dashed out, her face red with tears. Flour smeared her yellow sundress.
Instinctively, I started forward to ask her what was wrong, but as I watched, she disappeared, fading away like a bit of morning mist.
