Page 187 of Eight of Swords, Part Two

‘It’s all for you, baby,’ the man tells him, ‘but you might have to take it.’

A smile shapes his lax mouth, a breathless laugh escaping around each punched-out sound of agonising, frustrated bliss.

‘You think I won’t?’

‘I know you will.’

‘I’ll take your heart.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Rip it out.’

‘Fuck.’

‘Swallow it.’

‘God, baby.’

‘No God,’ he gasps, nose to nose. ‘Only me.’

‘Only you.’

The man kisses him so hard it borders violence. Blood spills to be shared and swallowed, cyclical nourishment through pleasurable pain.

‘Won’t ever let you go,’ he promises, tears falling.

‘I know. Me neither.’

‘Promise?’

‘I… fuck, Jules. I promise.’

‘Your heart is mine.’

The burst of warm ejaculate inside him triggers euphoria, makes him turn inside out, makes him crazy, makes him scream as his own orgasm bursts free to possess him, to wring out each droplet of bliss and devour it all. In the dark, that pleasure is liquid moonstones; tears and monster blood, and the tree bark is cutting his back, and his skin is cold, but the danger only makes it all taste so much better.

Love is an ocean.

Desire is lightning.

Kade.

He is God of this world.

Kade, can you hear me?

Nothing on earth can compare to the man he loves loving him.

Open your eyes for me now, Kade.

It never, ever will.

‘Kade!’

Light stabs his eyes the moment he opens them, so he quickly closes them again, wincing. ‘Fucking… ow,’ he moans weakly.

‘He’s coming around,’ Lachlan says, tone clipped and calm.