Chapter 7

Mystery man's POV

I never believed in that instant-connection bullshit people yap about on dating apps, love at first sight, soulmates, all that romantic garbage but the second that redheaded kid from my apartment stumbled through the door of my usual bar like the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels, something in my chest twisted so hard I almost dropped the glass I was nursing.

He looked wrecked. Eyes wide and glassy, face pale enough that the lights made him glow like a ghost. Behind him on the sidewalk I caught the shadows of those assholes laughing and catcalling, following too close, hands already gesturing like they owned him. My blood went hot.

Not just angry-hot. Protective-hot.

The kid had this good looking hoodie on, he looked cute in it. He’s wearing the hoodie I gave him, yet it never once crossed his mind how I knew his measurements so perfectly. So naive, so sweet. It’s exactly why I haven't been able to bring myself to ruin him just yet. But tell me, my good boy... why did you wander into such a naughty place?

I felt like I knew exactly who he was.

I tilted my head and kept watching closer than I’d ever admit…

The bartender who’s known me for years caught my eye when he slid onto a stool. I jerked my chin toward the blue cocktail that was on my table, I'd already added the aphrodisiac in it for Aiden. I kept contemplating whether to let him drink it or not. And my inner demon won.

The bartender was my guy so he was quick witted and understood. Took the drink to him without a word. Aiden took one long sip like he was dying of thirst, and ten seconds later his eyes rolled and he folded like wet paper.

I was there before he hit the floor. Scooped him up under the arms and hauled him out the back door into the alley where my car waited. No one questioned it. In that bar, people mind their own business when I decide to play knight.

The hotel was five minutes away. Expensive nice place on the edge of downtown, clean sheets, thick walls, no questions asked. I carried him up the back stairs because elevators have cameras and I wasn’t in the mood for paperwork. Room 412. The door clicked shut behind us. I laid him on the bed gently, like he was glass instead of the same fragile boy who wouldn’t look me in the eye without wanting to disappear.

He was out cold. Breathing shallow. Cheeks flushed from whatever cocktail residue was still in his system. I stood there for a long minute just looking.

Skin pale except for the freckles scattered across his nose and shoulders. Red hair messy and sticking to his forehead with sweat. The hoodie looked amazing on him, sleeves too long, like he’d been clinging to it for safety. Someone had already hurt him tonight.

That protective twist in my chest turned into something darker. Hungrier.

I peeled the hoodie off first, Underneath was just a thin t-shirt clinging to his ribs. I tugged that up and over his head. Arms limp. The shirt hit the floor. Then the jeans button popped, zipper down, I eased them off his hips. No boxers. Just bare skin.

Cock soft against his thigh, not big, but pretty. Pink tip, smooth shaft, nest of auburn curls. Ass round and perfect, the kind you want to grab and never let go.

Bruises already blooming on one cheek, finger-shaped. Someone else’s marks. My dick throbbed hard in my jeans.

I stripped him the rest of the way. Socks. Shoes kicked off. Then I stepped back and looked at what I’d unwrapped, He was naked. Then I blindfolded him next. I always carry one in the glove compartment, black silk, soft. Slipped it over his eyes. I tied it gently. He mumbled something incoherent, slurred nonsense.

I sat on the edge of the bed. Hand on his thigh. His skin was warm and soft. I leaned down and kissed his neck first. Slowly. Open-mouthed. He sighed, soft unconscious sound.

My mouth moved lower. Collarbone. Nipple, small, pink, under my tongue. I sucked. Gently at first. Then harder. Bit just enough to feel him twitch. Down his stomach. Then bus hip bone and inner thigh. His cock started to fill, slowly, lazy hardening like his body knew what was coming even if his brain didn’t.

“Fuck,” I muttered against his skin. “Look at you. Perfect little thing.”

I kissed the base of his dick. Tongue flicked the head. He moaned low and wrecked. Hips shifted toward me without thinking. I took him in my mouth. Slowly and deep. Sucked until he was fully hard, leaking on my tongue. Pretty cock. So fucking pretty. I could’ve cum just from tasting him.

But I wanted more.

I stood up. Stripped fast, shirt, jeans, boxers. My cock sprang free, thick, heavy, already dripping. I climbed over him. Spread his legs with my knees. Settled between them. Rubbed my dick against his ass hot skin on his. He whimpered. Blindfold still on. Body pliant. Craving even in blackout.

I lined up. Pressed the head against his hole. Just enough pressure to feel the resistance. One push and I’d be inside. One push and he’d be mine.

Something stopped me.

Not guilt and definitely not morals. I don’t have those on nights like this. It was… him. The way his breath hitched when I kissed his neck earlier. The way he’d run into that bar like he was drowning and I was the only lifeboat. The way his body trembled now not just from the drug, but from everything that had already been done to him tonight. I could smell it on him. Fear, hurt and exhaustion. He was someone who'd definitely reciprocate my feelings, so why use this method anyway. Why not just come out? I kept questioning myself, truth be told though, I was actually terrified that my darker desires and kinks will scare Aiden off and drive him away forever.