“Days?!” Cullen cried, terrified. “Hang on! I’m still tied up! And I’m not done!”
“But I am.” He said calmly as he pulled open the bedroom door. Cullen cried out and tried to lift himself, failing quickly. Leviathan watched him for a long moment and then smirked viciously. “If you want me to use you, Cullen, I happily will. I’ll take you however I can get you.” He stepped into the hallway. “Enjoy your punishment.”
“Wait–”
He slammed the door closed behind him, moving down the hallway before he let a patch of shadows pool beneath him to take him away.
21
Cullencalled after him again, flinching as the thorns dug into his legs. Leviathan didn't come back and, though he could hear servants moving in the hallway, they ignored his calls for help. Not that he really wanted anyone to walk in on him bent over the bed and tied to the floor with freaky magic vines.
"Fuck." He hissed, pressing his forehead to the bed. It smelled even more like Leviathan now. "This is exactly what I deserve for being so stupid." Sleeping with Leviathan–how much of an idiot could he be? Or did it even count? Was it simply assault? Would it make him feel less shitty if he thought of it that way? He remembered his dreams, remembered feeling Walker’s hands on him…but he couldn't lie to himself. The Walker in his dreams had morphed into Leviathan on more than one occasion, and he'd liked it. Every time. He'd been panicked when he woke up to therealLeviathan touching him but…he'd liked that too. All of it. He closed his eyes, feeling tears gather in them.
"I'msuch a horrible person." He whispered to himself. How could he enjoy the touch of someone like Leviathan? A demon. A cold blooded killer. Touching him with the same hands he had killed with…
He felt sick.
And…Walker.What would he think? He would hate him. He would be disgusted. And were they even actually broken up? He'd assumed they were, but…had he cheated on him? Was Walker waiting for him to come home? The tears spilled over. Gods, he hadn't meant to. He would never cheat. Itwasn'tcheating. It couldn't be. If he ever saw Walker again, he would tell him. He'd apologize and break up with him, tell him to go be happy with someone who wasn't so disgusting and evil…
But maybe Walker had already moved on. Cullen could hardly fault him if he had. His heart ached at the thought of Walker with another guy. But he deserved someone better. Cullen clearly had a darkness in him that Walker didn't, and he couldn't continue to spoil Walker’s life. He looked towards the window, at the dark sky outside, and he wanted to throw himself out of it, to accomplish what Leviathan had stopped the first time.
But his legs hurt worse the more he moved, and that quiet little voice came again, reminding him that he didn’t want to die. Even if it meant living with such rancid disgust. He felt his dick rub slightly against the bed and wanted to cry even more. He was hard again, and he knew it would stay that way until Leviathan came back, until he touched him again. Cullen didn't have a single doubt that he would give in again. He was so pathetic. No matter how good it had been…it was Leviathan. A Prince of Hell, a psychotic murderer…
He pressed his face into the blanket and let out a low sob.
22
Stupid. So stupid to tell him he wouldn't be back for days. He should have said a few hours instead. Or punished him in a different way. With a flogger or a whip, maybe, but…he'd known Cullen would have liked those. Known because he had been able to see it in the brat’s eyes for all those years. The bored, unsatisfied look every time Walker had finished fucking him…it had made it so obvious to Leviathan what he'd needed. He'd studied his every move during that time locked away. Caught glimpses of Cullen’s eyes lingering on certain movies or posters, seen the flush in his face and the slight hint of guilt in his eyes when Walker would ask him what he was reading.
It had all been so obvious…so of course he couldn't use any toys for punishment. Not yet.
So he'd worked him up until he was a strung out mess again, until his pulse was racing and his body writhing with need…and then he'd left him.
And spent two whole days locked away in his ownbedroom, listening intently to Cullen's harsh breaths and his pleading, broken voice. He'd listened and worked himself up until he felt damn near out of his mind…
And now he’d finally deemed the punishment over. Now he would go see how much respect the brat had.
His breaking point had definitelynotcome from some strange tightening in his chest when Cullen’s sobbing had grown more broken. No, definitely not.
He paused just outside the brat’s door.
He could hear his quickening heartbeat as he sensed Leviathan. Could hear the sharp intake of breath and even see into his mind to know that he was ready, he would be good, despite his anger. Bent, but not broken, that much was clear.
Still. As long as he was willing to behave…
He pushed open the door, pausing in the doorway when he saw Cullen’s body go stiff. His legs were still strapped tightly in place with vines, a dried mess on his thighs and thin lines of blood flowing down his calves. It took Leviathan too long to find his voice.
“Good morning.” He murmured finally, keeping his voice carefully blank. “How do you feel?”
Was that a sick fucking joke?
How did hefeel?
As if he hadn't been crying for two straight days. With anxiety. With pain. With guilt. All of it eating him alive while he struggled against these damn bindings that had continued to prick into his calves. Blood ran down his legs and hands. There was even a small pool of it beneath him, and under his wrists on the bed, the red sheets stained withblack now.
Black.
Demon blood.
