He Knows He’s Fucked. He is Actually...

Nick

Christian has me pinned, and I fucking know I should head-butt him, break his nose for daring get right up in my face like this, with his breath hot upon my lips and his crotch grinding down upon my own completely wrong-wired member.

I swallow. “You know you’re fucked.”

“Not yet,” he laughs. “But it seems we’re building towards a most satisfying climax to this fight.”

“Shut your filthy mouth. You know what I meant,” I snarl, straining against those stupidly strong hands encircled around my forearms with just enough pressure… to not be bruising in the slightest. It’s a firm but... somehow tender grip. And I need to stop being so aware of those fingers and that body. I need to just fucking… focus! “There is an army of exorcists and enforcers who are gonna come here after me, and they will fucking obliterate you.”

“I’m not scared of the church,” he retorts, eyes wide and wild. “I’m not scared of you enforcers. They should all be scared of me,” he hisses, eyes burning bright red. “But you…” He searches my eyes. “are not like them, as I said. You don’t want to hurt me.” He strokes at my face. “And I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Fucking liar. Who have you fed from recently?” We haven’t had any bodies turn up, no suspicious, exsanguinated corpses found slumped in the alleys or floating in the bay.

“Only the willing,” he swears. “I never take enough to damage, and you know… I like the part where we fuck just as much as the drinking. And whatever your church may insist…” He smooths his hand along my abs, eyes never leaving my own. “We are not abominations just for having such a nature.”

Strength surges through my shaking hands, and I hurl him back from me, right onto the bed. I’m back on my feet and up behind him in an instant. “Even if you aren’t a demon, you are a fucking animal,” I growl, not sure if I’m talking to Christian... or myself.

He cranes his neck and studies me coyly out of the corner of his eye, as I’m bent there right over his back, erection flush against his ass cheeks… “Drop your pants already,” he orders.

I comply. Why the hell do I comply? Why do I knot my fist in that mop of golden hair and yank down his briefs and stare at that tight, tender flesh for a moment before ramming my way inside? Because I couldn’t fight it any more. Deep down… I wanted to do this since the second I laid eyes on him. He jerks at the entry, but moans his delight. I feel those tight walls squeezing against my throbbing, hard cock, and I moan in return, quickening my pace and making him jerk all the more.

This feels better than I ever could have imagined. I’ve never done it before. I had it done to me, once, and after that I dreamed about it, passed by good looking men and tried not to openly stare or fantasize and jerk off… I’ve never had anyone like Christian though. I’ve never wanted it so bad. Hell, I never even had a real chance to cross that line, not even when I was drunk, and drugged up, and horny…

I’m cumming already, spewing wetness right up into his opening. I fall panting over his back, and I feel him fucking laughing at me. “Shit, that was quick. Were you a virgin, love?”

“Fuck…” Fuck you? Is that all I have to say? How pointless is that protest? He is fucked. I fucked him. I actually... “Fuck me.”

“Is that a genuine request? God.” I pull out of him. Too quickly, I guess, because he didn’t seem to like it. “Glad I lubed before you got here, you barbarian,” he mutters.

I have no fucking idea what he’s talking about. I feel dazed, and anxious, as the release of all my frustration and pent up feelings turns to sharp, sudden shame and regret.

“Hey, don’t worry. It was still pretty damn good,” he soothes, turning my cheek, and pulling me back down on top of him…

My hand goes right to his throat as he dares try to kiss me. “No. You got what you wanted. Now…” I lick at my lips, throat feeling suddenly, most painfully dry. “Now get the fuck out of my city.” I shove away from him, avoiding his eyes and reaching for my pants. “I ever see you again and I will fucking report it, to Sicillio, to everyone.”

“I aught to wring your pretty neck,” he drawls, sinking back on the bed with eyes sleepy and hooded once more. “I’m not some cheap whore you can drive out of town with nothing but empty threats.” Those eyes glimmer with mischief, sliding up and down my body. “I am fucking you next time, just so you know. And you had better be a gentleman and offer me a damn drink first.”

“There will be no next time,” I enforce. “Leave, tonight, or else we fucking kill you,” I snap.

He cradles his head on his elbows, closing his eyes. “You know where to find me.”

I storm out the door without another word. I walk out into the daylight, scanning the streets in paranoia for any witnesses… I consider seriously stalking back down those stairs and hauling this bastard right out into the sun – reduce that perfect face and body right down to blowing ash, because… I can’t afford to have anyone figure out what I just did, not ever.

I need to repent… but I’ll be sent right back to hell on earth, the second I do. I was in that camp for months when I was younger… I am never going back. I don’t care what it costs.