“If this is a dream, get me off,” Isaac said, his fingers digging into Shadrach’s thighs. “Nobody ever—just get me off. Make me feel something.”
“I’ll make you fucking feel something,” Shadrach swore, all but ripping Isaac’s jeans open and plunging a hand inside.
“Come on, come on,” Isaac breathed as Shadrach took his sizable length in hand and pumped hard and fast. “God, fuck yeah, just like that.”
It had to hurt, even in a dream, as dry and tight as it was. Isaac whimpered, doing his best to fuck desperately into Shadrach’s merciless grip. His lips were parted, his face twistedwith exquisite agony, and Shadrach couldn’t resist leaning in, slipping his tongue deep inside and tasting sweet blood.
“Does that hurt, killer?”
Isaac’s head fell back, his hands gripping Shadrach’s thighs hard enough to bruise. “Yeah,” he sobbed, his broad chest heaving. “Don’t stop.”
“Oh, they’ve fucked you up so bad,” Shadrach whispered. “Do you need it to hurt?”
“Yeah, yeah.” His body shuddered, his thighs quivering hard under Shadrach as he came apart in his hands. His back arched like a bow against the back of the chair as Shadrach milked his cock, and then he curled forward, wrapping his arms around him and burying his face in Shadrach’s neck, quaking.
Shadrach wrapped an arm around his back. Isaac’s muscular body trembled, and if this were real, his grip on Shadrach’s shirt would be in danger of ripping the expensive fabric. To his surprise, Shadrach realized he wouldn’t even care. He lifted a hand to Isaac’s neck, forcing his face up. The ice in Isaac’s eyes was gone, leaving sun-drenched forest in its wake, green and gold and beautiful.
“When I come into your room in the morning, you should trust me. You should answer my questions.”
Fear chased away the light in his eyes. “What happens if I do?”
Shadrach tucked a loose lock of red hair behind his ear. What had those religious nutjobs done to make this feral human so afraid of punishment? They’d tried to tame a lion and only succeeded in breaking his spirit.
“Nothing,” he promised. “You won’t be punished. I won’t let anyone harm you.”
Isaac scowled. “You’re a demon. How can I trust you? Therealyou?”
“How long have you had faith in your guild and your god? And how often have they punished you for not being what they wanted?”
Isaac’s frown softened with uncertainty.
“What’s the harm in having a little faith inme? Surely nothing a demon could do would be worse than whatever they’ve done to you.”
“I don’t know, I hear Hell is pretty bad.”
Shadrach smiled. “You’re not in Hell, killer. You’re in a skating rink.”
Chapter 7
Isaac
After a mind-blowing dream,Isaac woke uncomfortable and confused. He’d never imagined having a dream like that about ademon. It had to be the stress of his situation twisting his reality or something. The demon had spoken pretty, tempting words, but that was all they were. The imaginary desires of a broken mind. Mentally shaking it off, he focused on the present.
He had no idea what time it was, as there was nothing but bare, painted brick and dingy tile in his little cell. His head throbbed, his mouth was dry, and there was a horrible crick in his neck from sleeping slumped over. Pain lanced up his shoulders and back as he straightened, and he couldn’t stop a choked-off groan from escaping. His stomach knotted with aching hunger. When did he last eat? Oh yeah, eggs in the cafeteria. If he assumed he’d somehow managed to sleep through the night, then he was going on twenty-four hours without food.
Weirdest of all, despite going a full day with no water, he had to piss.
Rasping from a dry throat, he shouted, “Hey! Hello! Anybody out there?”
And then he waited. A moment later, the door swung open.
Black Eyes was just as beautiful now as he’d been yesterday. It looked as though he’d had a good night. He was dressed in a fresh pair of black slacks and a black button-down today. The sleeves were rolled up and the top few buttons were undone, providing a tantalizing view of his clavicle and chest. His hair was damp, and several strands had fallen forward to hang above his eyes. Worst of all, he smiled when he met Isaac’s gaze, leaning one muscled shoulder against the doorframe and cocking his hip out. It was fucking criminal.
“Can I help you, killer?”
‘Does that hurt, killer?’
Isaac shuddered. How could his body even be thinking about attraction when he had so many other more pressing needs? He focused on keeping his face impassive and his attention on all his discomforts.
