Black eyes followed him mercilessly, showing no mercy, leaving not the slightest doubt as to the intention driving their owner. Glowing embers burned into his soul, marking him, marking his body as they held him, paralyzing his movements, suffocating his lungs, and stopping his heartbeat. Magnus Jordan knew it was inevitable, that he couldn't prevent it. Sooner or later he would belong to Carlos del Valle if he were that criminal's property, more than he already was. His eyes fell on the tattoo that disfigured his upper arm, the brand of the secret cartel that was proving to him day after day, hour after hour, that there was no escape for him. What difference should it make anyway? He had already given up everything, done everything imaginable, everything that was asked of him. And he would keep doing it, would follow orders without asking, carry out orders, no matter what the cost.That wasn't the worst, his past as an undercover agent, nobody knows, even Michael, Roger, contained fa
Magnus Jordan trembled, his mouth opening and closing in a soundless attempt to stop the inevitable, the dreaded, and yet the most longed-for. Carlos licked his dry lips as he watched Jordan kick off his shoes, stepping out of the jeans that had been wrapped around his legs in a ball of cloth anyway. "Leave... I'll do that!" From his jeans, Carlos drew a gleaming knife, the blade gleaming in the light of a sunbeam that through a crack in the roof. With an animal sound, he tore open Magnus Jordan's shirt, exposing the bare skin, the rapidly rising and falling chest with the accelerated breathing. Grinning, he slid the flat blade along a delicate spot where the carotid artery was throbbing excitedly, slowly moving it lower, circling the erecting nipples. Magnus Jordan suppressed a tremor, trying not to flinch. He felt the tip of the knife, knew how close Carlos was piercing his skin knew he wouldn't hesitate to do it if he felt like it. And yet he didn't move. Carlos leaned closer
To break this man, there could be nothing more delicious. And then he thrust. Magnus Jordan screamed. Groaning, Carlos lay on top of him, his shaft buried in the other's cavity, so deep he felt like sinking into the grip of that tight body. With the utmost effort, he moved backward, pulling out half of his throbbing cock, only to force it into Jordan again. He whimpered, but Carlos ignored him. He thrust again, harder this time, more violently. And he changed the angle, aimed at Jordan's prostate. The whimpers turned to sighs, and Carlos felt Magnus Jordan respond to the stimulation. He drove his glowing penis forward again, pausing halfway, massaging the tender spot repeatedly. "Aahhhhh don’t stop Carlos!" Magnus Jordan screamed, but this time with blazing lust. Pain gave way to overwhelming desire. The feeling of being filled by violence, driven higher and higher with relentless thrusts aroused in him a passion he no longer thought possible. Again and again, Carlos's hot shaft
But this intoxication was gone quickly, he should cover known, he could run away from everything, just not from his demons. They always followed him everywhere, no matter how sure he was that he had eluded them. And then they caught up with him. His past gripped him and he felt that he was losing the strength to defend himself any longer. When he reached the first houses, he had no choice but to look for a room somewhere, lock the door behind him, and let the nightmares come. At some point, these too would be over, and perhaps he would then have another chance to lock them up deep in his soul, so deep that he could even forget them from time to time. Days passed and he was still stuck in the desert. Not that anything was stopping him from moving on. He just couldn't muster the energy to do it. He was alone, there was no one to care about a stranger who decided to crawl under there. The few residents of the town had enough concerns of their own to care for someone who, as he had mad
Of course, he had tested the function and already knew before that the agreed number of ringtones sound on Jorge's connection for 24 hours. He knew that Jorge would be waiting for him on a secure line unless something urgent had come up. Jorge spoke first. "It's good to hear your voice." "Like yours..." There was an awkward silence. Magnus Jordan didn't think it would be so difficult for him to speak and obviously, it wasn't easier for Jorge either! "Is everything okay?" "Yes and with you?" "Also!" "The family is doing well?" added Magnus Jordan a little uncertainly. "Everything great, no need to worry!" Jorge almost bit his tongue. This last sentence could be taken as a hint at worst. And yet there was practically no chance of anyone overhearing this conversation, not after all the precautions he had taken. Still, they had to remember to remain cautious. But the relief he heard in Magnus Jordan's voice was worth the risk. "How is the work going?" “Everything is the same, just
He had largely walked around the houses and had now arrived where the town bordered a small, densely overgrown, unhealthily green shimmering lake. A colorful chain of lights with several broken bulbs pointed to a few rickety tables and chairs where some locals apparently regularly gathered to mark the end of the day. It was still too early and too hot for more than two people to be there, and as the weather threatened to develop, there wouldn't be much going on that night either. Jorge ordered bottled water and enjoyed letting the ice-cold liquid run down his throat. 'What's the point?' he thought to himself. It wasn't like anything was going to happen today and Phoebe was far away in another province. She wouldn't agree, but then again, she wouldn't know either. He procured whiskey, recognized the detours required at first glance, and downed it in one gulp before biting into a lemon. Nothing had been so good for him for a long time. He took a deep breath and felt the warmth rise i
They entered wet to the bone, Jorge grabbed one of the two available room keys and tried to open the door in the suddenly black night. Suddenly clammy hands clasped his. With sleepwalking certainty, Magnus Jordan forced the key to turn and the door creaked open. A flash of lightning lit up the room for a brief moment, and Jorge discovered a sparkle in Magnus Jordan's eyes, or just a reflection of the forces of nature that were being held back with difficulty by walls and windows. But then he heard a voice assuring him that the spark was alive, that his friend was here with him, in this room, in this storm, in this land. "Together we can do it." The bare bulb flickered but managed to cast a dim light. Jordan was shaking again. Jorge strode across the room at a brisk pace, unlatched his holdall, pulled out a few dry clothes and a towel, and tossed them in his direction. "Better put that on," he added, at the same time trying to dry his wet locks before removing his wet clothes as well
Jorge's mouth loosened and traveled down his chin and cheek to his neck. His thumb circled Magnus Jordan's chest and slid lower until his fingertips trailed over protruding ribs to search along the narrow waist for the waistband of the pants. Jorge's hand found the heat that had spread between Magnus Jordan's legs, clasped the erect member, and began rapid, demanding pumping movements. He got faster and knew too well what Magnus Jordan wanted, what he had always wanted. And he hadn't changed, pushing towards the hand, moving his hips in vain against Jorge's weight while his head slumped back, his mouth opening in a sigh as he came over the hand that gripped him. Jorge smiled as he slid his lips over Magnus Jordan's temple, traced the contours of the ear with his tongue, and finally sucked on Jordan's earlobe until he felt his exhausted breathing quicken again. He sat up and watched Jordan's arms twitch as if he wanted to grab him and open him again to drag. But Jorge had other, more