“This is home,” Revo agreed, squeezing the back of his neck.
Spider snorted, chuckling when Ezra clung to Revo’s arm with a vise-like grip. Reaper and Sweet already went ahead. “Need I tell you to be careful?”
Spider might be club Secretary, but he was also one of the few Hellhounds Revo truly trusted. Mace gave Revo and Spider the wolf gift when they were teenagers. They became prospects together, and earned their patches at the same time.
“Nah. I’ll be fine.”
Spider gave him contemplative look. Always too smart for his own good, but Revo loved him like his own blood brother. “Okay, then. Mace is probably drinking at the bar. Don’t linger out here too long, or Sweet will start spreading lies.”
After Spider left, Ezra looked up at Revo. Damn but did the incubus remind Revo of the abandoned puppy Spider and he picked up when they were twelve. Revo pressed Ezra’s face to his chest, and Ezra automatically wrapped his arms around him, his breath warm against his shirt. Ezra sighed, relaxing when he began stroking his back. Revo’s cock stirred.
Fuck. He couldn’t afford any distractions.
“I need to let you know what to expect when we walk through those doors,” Revo said, voice like gravel.
Ezra stilled in his arms, but at least he didn’t start hitting him or tried to run. Revo knew it would take time for him to earn Ezra’s trust, and likewise for him to start trusting Ezra, but they needed to be on the same page to pull one hell of a convincing performance.
“You mentioned something about staking your claim on me.”
“Smart pup. You know what that means?” Revo didn’t bother mincing words at this stage of the game. “In the club, we usually share everything—blood, spoils, men, and women. The only exception is when a Hellhound finds its mate, because shifters mate for life. To assert my right, I need to fuck you.”
“In front of an audience?” Ezra whispered, cheeks turning slightly pink.
Revo growled, his patience at a limit. “For fuck’s sake, you’re an incubus. Doing it in front of a bunch of horny werewolf bikers shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Normally, I don’t have a problem. No one has ever complained about my performance I’ll grant you that.” Ezra mouthed off, fire sparking in his eyes, chasing away his fear. Then he bit his lip. “I’m not prude or shy, but I’m starting to learn anything I do with you feels different.”
“Aw, pup. That supposed to be some kind of confession?” Revo couldn’t help but tease, amused when Ezra fisted his fingers into his shirt, breathing hard.
Fuck, Revo thought he pushed his pup to the edge of the cliff. He expected Ezra to back off. Make some lame excuse, but the corner of his lips lifted to a tempting smile.
“They want a show? Fine. I’ll give them a damn show to remember, but you owe me for this.”
“Making demands on me already, pup? Remember who’s the one in control.” Revo pulled him close. Ezra gasped and he silenced Ezra with a kiss. Going gentle this time round, Revo took his time. He swiped the bottom of Ezra’s lip until Ezra let his prodding tongue in. Revo felt his indignation wash away.
Hell, did Ezra taste sweet.
When he released Ezra, Ezra’s pupils dilated and he had the “fuck me” look on his face. Perfect.
“Dirty-mouthed bikers don’t kiss like that.”
Revo laughed and tugged him along. The smell and sounds of home hit him the moment he entered the club doors. From the corner, heavy metal music screeched from speakers. A couple of brothers played ball from the old billiard table. A few Hellhounds were slumped over tables, drunk and drooling, naked whores on either side of them.
He saw Reaper and Sweet seated by the leather couches with Mace, club whores draped on either side of them. A barefoot rent boy dressed only in jeans knelt between Mace’s legs, head bobbing to and fro before Mace took command and began fucking him hard.
Seeing him approach, Mace pushed away the young man. Randy would have pouted and welcomed some discipline with any other Hellhound, but with Mace, he respectfully stood and quietly retreated in the background.
“Well, well if it isn’t Revo. I thought I fucking asked you to take of the problem, not fuck it and bring it home,” Mace drawled. A crude gesture of his left hand sent one of the whores scrambling, probably to get him beer.
Revo felt Ezra stiffen beside his shoulder.
“You mighty certain that leech, that creature is your mate, Revo?” Mace drawled. He nodded to Reaper and Sweet. “Your brothers tell me the thing has you wrapped around its little finger.”
Revo snarled, tightening his leash on his temper and riled up wolf. “They have it wrong. Ezra’s my property now. The bastards are just jealous.”
He saw their confrontation began drawing a crowd. A challenge. Fine with him.
“Why the fuck would I be jealous of getting pussy whipped by a twink?” Sweet asked. Some of the men laughed. Revo’s lip twitched. Ezra stepped forward, but Revo wrapped his hand over his wrists in warning. Mace narrowed his gaze.
Ezra surprised the hell out of him by asking, “May I speak, Revo?”
Revo hid his surprise, but Ezra’s angle might work. “As long as you don’t disrespect my brothers.”
Sweet’s smirk faltered.
“Have you told them, sir? By making me yours, you hold control over my abilities? At your say-so I can induce lust and heighten the pleasure of everything within a hundred yard’s radius?”
Holy fuck? Revo quickly latched onto his meaning. Saw how Ezra carefully phrased his sentences so Revo appeared in control.
“And fucking feed on us. Us. Predators.” Mace growled.
Ezra shook his head, looking at Revo, pitching his confused and submissive role perfectly. Revo answered for him. “Not without my permission.”
Mace looked unconvinced, but Revo saw the idea appealed to him. Men like them in the Post-Fall world had to live on the edge, needed to constantly court danger and keep on stepping up their game or risk going mad. Having one Hellhound hold the leash of an incubus would be something other MCs or ruling packs couldn’t boast.
“I don’t see your mate mark on him,” Mace eventually said. “Without a collar on your pet, he’s just a fucking stray and one day he’ll bite you back.”
“I figured I’d do the honors here, in front of my brothers.” Revo snaked his arm around Ezra’s shoulders and squeezed his neck. “Time to make you mine, pup. Lie on the table.”
It felt odd how Revo never had a problem indulging in some public exhibition. He couldn’t remember how many willing men or women he’d taken out in the open alone or with a couple of his brothers, but he didn’t like the other Hellhounds leering at what belonged to him.
Most of his brothers watched them now. Some made bets, others jokes. Those who remained quiet worried Revo most. Without looking, Revo knew the gears turning in their heads. He was being appraised and judged. His measure weighed against the needs of the club. That should have worried him, but right now all he cared about was how Ezra handled the pressure.
Ezra mentioned he hadn’t been some inexperienced prude when Revo caught him, but the tiny details hadn’t escape Revo, like the tension in his shoulders. The slight shudder that passed through his lean frame as he walked over to the nearest unoccupied table.
Revo walked up to him, grabbed his shoulders, and turned him. Small satisfaction that Ezra didn’t slap his hand away. Seeing him, Ezra relaxed. “Eyes on me at all times.”
Ezra held his gaze and his lower lip trembled as Revo easily lifted him up to the table.
“Spread your hands flat on the table.” Ezra obeyed.
Revo methodically pulled off his shirt, unbuttoned his jeans, slid the zipper down, all the while Ezra’s chest rose and fell, breathing uneven. Revo took off his sneakers, massaged at his ankles and calf, until he calmed down.
“Get on with it, Revo. We don’t have all day,” someone called out.
Ezra began to help, but Revo grabbed his wrists. He growled.
“Keep your hands on the table unless I tell you to. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good boy.” Revo yanked off his jeans roughly, and remembered to take out the lube in the pocket. He grinned at the sight of Ezra’s cock.
“Hell, Revo. Your pup’s already turned on from that. You think you gonna share him?”
“Don’t interrupt the fucking mating, Axel,” someone else said.
Ezra’s head began to swerve, probably seeking out the voices, but Revo tipped his chin. “On me, remember? Look at me as I fuck you, because you’re mine. My property. I want you to drill that lesson into your handsome little head, or I give my brothers here a show so they can see how easily you get hot and bothered from a spanking.”
“Bend him the fuck over, Revo. Let’s see that pretty, smooth ass marked with all your handprints.
That sped up Ezra’s pulse again. Ezra’s cheek twitched, but he managed to keep in whatever sassy remark he wanted to make. Well, he expected Ezra to get pissed, but the last thing Revo expected was the excitement. Did he secretly like public scenes and being called Revo’s property?
For that, Revo leaned over. He flicked a tongue at the bead of sweat rolling down the side of Ezra’s neck. The perfect spot to put his mark, and forever brand Ezra as his. Revo reached for Ezra’s cock, and began to pump, his movements fast and frenzied. He might have gone slow to hear Ezra’s sweet cries, but not today. Ezra let out a gasp, a telltale shudder. Revo stopped stroking him just when he was about to explode.
Ezra let out a frustrated breath. “Please, Revo. Please.”
Revo pressed a finger to his lips. “Not yet. Lie on your back, and keep your hands on your head. Move them and I will flip you over and spank you, understand?”
“Yes, sir,” Ezra murmured.
Revo undressed then positioned Ezra’s legs on either side of his shoulders. He let Ezra see his need, his thickening cock. “Want this in you?”
Ezra licked his lips. “Oh yes.”
Revo took position, and uncapped the lube. Ezra obediently kept his gaze trained on him, although from the sounds and scents in the room, Revo knew some of his aroused brothers started having a go at the club whores for an early morning round. Revo drizzled a generous amount over Ezra’s crack then his fingers. He traced the veins of Ezra’s rock-hard length, flicked the pre-cum at the tip with his left hand, while he pushed two fingers of his right into Ezra’s puckered opening.
“Ah. Ah shit.” Ezra squirmed against him. Revo began scissoring him for his access, and stopped pumping him when Ezra almost hit the edge again.
“No coming without my permission, remember?”
“Bastard,” Ezra whispered under his breath. Revo caught the affection there, and widened his grin. He kept on sliding his two fingers in and out. “I want—”
“What do you want?” Revo asked mildly. “Tell me. I’m not a fucking mind reader.”
Ezra breathed hard, and Revo saw he had trouble keeping his hands above his head. Still, he tried, and that pleased Revo immensely. In a span of hours, he had been given an irreplaceable gift, the power to give or deny Ezra. Revo hadn’t been fool enough to call Ezra his fated mate, or label shit like “lasting” or “hopeful” to their relationship, if could even be called that. But they did have something—chemistry, lust, desire driven by needy desperation, what did it matter? It was good enough for Revo.
“Revo, please.” Ezra whimpered and Revo began pumping his cock again.
Certain he was on the verge of climaxing, Revo blanketed his body over Ezra’s quivering frame, and held his wrists captive. He entered Ezra in one swift and sudden stroke, and buried himself hilt deep. Ezra let out a wordless cry underneath him, his cock pressed hard against Revo’s belly. Revo waited for Ezra to catch his breath, wanted to see if Ezra would come without his permission. He didn’t.
“My property.” Revo growled.
“Yours,” Ezra agreed with panting breaths.
His pup had been good. Revo figured it was time he made Ezra fly. Revo began to move, the force of his thrusts making the table vibrate underneath them. Then he slowed his rhythm, gently nudging at Ezra until he hit Ezra’s sweet spot. Ezra gasped, eyes widening, nails biting into Revo’s hand.
“There huh.” Revo aimed for the spot over and over again, feeling Ezra writhe underneath him. “Go on. Come.”
Revo slammed inside him, staying there. Ezra let out a shuddering sigh, all the muscles in his body relaxing. Revo buried his head into Ezra’s neck, breathing in his scent, before he unsheathed his canines. “Mine,” he repeated. Revo hoped to God Ezra understood this was the last time he asked, because his human half could no longer leash the needs of his beast to mate.
“Yes, Revo. Do it. Please.” Ezra moaned.
Revo sunk his teeth into his tender flesh, biting down hard. Felt the metaphysical threads of his beast and Ezra’s little demon knotting, tying each other down. When Revo finished, Spider had a first aid kit ready.
He saw Mace seated on one of the chairs, with a whore kneeling in front of him.
“Satisfied, boss?” Revo asked.
“You’ve made your point. You obviously fucking intend to keep this creature, but it still doesn’t solve anything.” Mace sighed. “Go on, Revo. Finish what you started.”
He would take any approval he got. Besides, any decent shifter no matter how hard knew mates needed priority. Revo took the first-aid kit and hefted Ezra in his arms. Loud groans, the sound of slapping flesh, and voices faded as he took Ezra up the stairs and into his room. He settled Ezra on his bed. Ezra looked at him sleepily as he dressed the new bite mark.
After, he cleaned both of them up, before settling in the bed. Ezra nestled close to him, a little bundle of warmth. Revo pressed his head against his chest and began to stroke his hair, the curve of his spine, all the while talking to him. It didn’t matter Ezra couldn’t hear the words.
Much like doms giving subs aftercare after a scene, shifters who just claimed their mate needed to give their partners the same reassurance. Close proximity, hearing the sound of his voice—Revo didn’t mind. He liked Ezra bundled up beside him.
Had he convinced Mace and the other Hellhounds? Revo didn’t know. They might be temporarily appeased, but they didn’t trust his word completely, because Hellhounds were suspicious by nature. They trusted no one except each other, and here was Revo, trying to convince them to believe an outsider who had been feeding on the people they swore to protect. Revo stopped touching Ezra.
Ezra made a huffing sound and Revo resumed caressing his hair. Ezra might still be a stranger to him, but Revo was now certain Ezra hadn’t been the guilty party. Someone out there, could there be another incubus committing the crimes Ezra took his own? Maybe it hadn’t been incubus, but some other supernatural entity that fed on luck, or was he merely looking for another sad fucker to blame?
Revo furrowed his brows. Even Spider mentioned how Ezra’s aura felt different. Certainly less powerful from what Revo would expect from a well-fed sex crazed demon. Ezra had more control than that, but his fear had tasted genuine. What secrets did he keep? Could he protecting someone else?
Too many fucking questions, but Revo didn’t care to spoil what they shared today. Tomorrow then, he’d make Ezra talk. Have a proper conversation.
“Revo.”
“Yeah?”
“What’s going to happen tomorrow?” Ezra hardly sounded awake.
“Don’t think about that for now. Try to get some sleep.”
Ezra nuzzled closer to him, wrapping his arms tightly around him. “This is nice.”
Revo swallowed. Ezra looking like this—vulnerable and needy, only worsened and sharpened his instincts to protect and kill the fucker who would decide to harm his mate. “What’s nice?”
“Knowing I can go to sleep without worries, certain I’ll be in a safe place when I wake up.”
Revo’s heart tightened. In Post-Fall times, it was every man for himself. Before Ezra Revo had
only cared about his brothers. Did mating Ezra and starting to care for another human being make him weak? Would taking this damn road lead him straight to hell?
“You’re my property now, Ezra. My mate. You’re with me now, and if any sad fucker wants to hurt you, they need to get through me first.”
Ezra’s breath felt unbelievably warm against his bare skin. “Overprotective, furry bastard.”
Revo had to grin at that. “Damn fucking right.”
Chapter Seven
Harsh sunlight streaked through the curtained windows, waking Ezra up. He’d always been a light sleeper, because he never knew when he needed to run. Rumpled in sheets of Revo’s bed with one heavily inked and muscled arm carelessly flung over his chest, Ezra really was sick of running and never knowing where to go. Lying next to Revo’s warmth, he realized his heart longed for home.
Long ago home had been the tiny one-room apartment Echo and he had lived in when their mother was still alive. Sure, the city slowly fell to tatters and each neighborhood turned out the same—rampant with crime, gangs, and the latest home brew drug-of-the-week, but it was nonetheless home. A safe place where the woman who birthed them sometimes remembered she was a mother with two growing boys, and not a whore peddling herself out on the streets.
Gone now, all that. The only memories that replaced home had been a string of seedy motels, refugee camps, and derelict towns filled with desperate people who Echo and he fed on. Folks who’d do anything to feel anything, and sex was just a good a high as any. Then Echo left him to clean up his messes.
“My life sucks.” Ezra expelled a breath and quickly stole a look at Revo.
The biker still slept, clutching him closer like a favorite pillow. God. He smelled good. Ezra didn’t think he could enough of Revo’s heady scent of male, wolf musk and leather. Ezra snuggled closer to Revo, seeking warmth, sniffing, and imprinting his scent like some territorial cat. He rubbed at the gauze on his neck. Revo’s mark.
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