Devious Resolutions

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Devious Resolutions Page 37

by Ashleigh Giannoccaro


  Interesting.

  “You’ve come a long way from Nebraska to tell me what we both already know. You’re a pussy. When I thought you cared about me, you were scheming for some unknown reason to destroy me,” I sneer. “But look at me. I’m fucking fabulous and you’re here begging with your bedroom eyes for another romp in my sheets. Your dick doesn’t lie, lollipop. It’s bouncing around like a kid on a trampoline, eager for a little thrill. Bitch, you lost that opportunity. We’ll never be lovers. We’ll never be anything.”

  The cocktail glass drops out of his hand and bounces on the floor, sending ice scattering everywhere. His lids droop and he sags in his chair. He drags his confused stare my way, his eyes dilated, and tries to speak, but no words come out.

  Oh goodie, Peter’s special “take-a-big-boy-down” cocktail has officially taken effect.

  “It’s show time, gummy bear.”

  Rage

  I blink away a wave of confusion, wincing against the harsh, bright lights. A wave of dizziness makes the room spin. Thunderous pounding beats inside of my skull. It takes me a moment to realize where I am and exactly what happened. Some time has passed, but I don’t know how much. My lips feel numb and my skin buzzes.

  He drugged me.

  I don’t know with what, but it knocked me on my ass fast.

  I knew it was coming. I saw the residue sitting in the bottom of the glass. And I drank it anyway. Because I wanted to be at his mercy.

  I’m sick. So fucking sick.

  I go to scrub my palm down my face only to realize I can’t. Turning my heavy head to look at my left arm, I’m slightly surprised to find a thick metal cuff is clamped around my wrist and hooked to a chain that extends from the ceiling. I have a little slack, but not much. I’d seen the hooks when I stepped into his playroom and wondered what he did with them. Now I know. My right arm has the same fate. Testing them, I pull hard. They don’t budge. Not that I really expected them to.

  The room is quiet. Both GLAM and Peter are gone.

  I don’t try to escape because it’s futile.

  I’m in his clutches, right where he wants me to be. Right where I planned to be. All I can do is wait. Wait for his wrath.

  And there’s no mistaking it.

  His fury is going to decimate me.

  My cock twitches and I let out a small chuckle.

  “This isn’t funny,” GLAM says from behind me, startling me. “You clearly don’t understand your situation.” He struts into my line of view, missing half his costume. The shoulder pads are gone. The cape is missing. His metal cuffs have disappeared.

  Just the crown and the shoes, and fuck, the sexy leather shorts.

  He’s added something new to his outfit. A metal snake wraps around his forearm, the tip of its tail coming up his hand, along his pointer finger, and ending in a sharp, metal point.

  Pain and damage and scars.

  GLAM is dressed to kill. Simple. Designer. Flawless. My cock jerks past the leather straps of my kilt.

  “You know,” GLAM says as he prances over to me, his body never wobbling in his extremely tall shoes. It reminds me of all the times he dribbled circles around our opponents on the court. A ballerina of basketball. It drove me mad with desire then. It drives me wild with need now. He continues with a sinister glare. “I bring them here every year. Because of you. I have a thirst to make them pay. For your sins.”

  He straddles my lap and I groan. His scent is sweet like candy. I want to fucking devour him. To sink my teeth in his throat and suck the glittery shit from his flesh.

  “I fuck them, Rage. I suck them. I take what I want from them.” His brown eyes flash with violence. “And then I make them bleed.” He runs the tip of metal along my jawline. “They weren’t you, though. It was never satisfying.”

  “I could satisfy you,” I rumble, my voice husky with unmasked desire.

  White, hot pain sears through me as he drags the metal tip down the side of my neck. Blood spills from the opening he’s created, running down the front of my chest. I could buck my hips, sending him flying to the floor. I’m stronger. But I don’t. I love the power gleaming in his eyes.

  “Don’t worry,” he purrs, running his other hand through the blood, making me hiss in pain. “I didn’t hit the vein. Yet.”

  My eyes drift to the drain in the floor and I grit my teeth. “Are you going to fuck me?”

  His nostrils flare as he studies me, unpeeling me layer by layer. “You knew how this would play out. How?” he demands, his words low and cold. “You weren’t surprised about the drains. The chains. This.” He stabs me with the point of his metal snake’s tail in my pectoral muscle, making me growl. “You seem to have expected this as well. And poor Peter? You slipped past all his normal checks and balances for my parties. This means you’ve been waiting to get here for three years. You chose to come here. Why?”

  “Austin,” I rumble.

  “GLAM,” he snaps.

  “I just needed to see you.”

  “You did all of this just to come back and what? Apologize?”

  “Yes.” I lean forward, desperate to taste him, but he grips my throat in his punishing, strong grip.

  “Apology not accepted,” he bites out, squeezing. “I want to know how you got here. What you know.”

  No more hiding.

  “I’m working for the FBI—”

  He scrambles off me, his features contorting into rage. “You set me up?” he asks, his voice rising several octaves. “Again?”

  I’d seen the heartache he’d barely been able to mask on television interviews in the early days of his career whenever they’d ask him about the sex tape that went viral. Just a flicker in his brown eyes. You’d have to be looking to see it, and I was always looking. Still am. And, again, his eyes flash at the betrayal.

  “No,” I growl. “It’s not what you think. Fuck. It’s never what you think.”

  His jaw clenches. “Well, out with it, lollipop. I have to have my wicked way with you before the clock strikes midnight. Time is ticking.”

  “I have followed your every move since…”

  We both know when.

  The day all the shit hit the fan. When the tape was leaked. When my parents forbade me to see him. When agents swooped in on him like vultures, saving him from small town shame and ridicule to thrust him into the porn industry starlight. We never spoke—never got the opportunity. It wasn’t long after, I was strongly encouraged by my father to join the military. To straighten me out. All it did was make me a tangled mess of obsession for Austin.

  “And?” he hisses.

  “I find serial killers. It’s my job. Since I watch you so closely, I saw a pattern. Followed leads. Discovered your secrets.”

  He explodes, his metal fingertip slashing and slashing and slashing across my chest. All I can do is grit against the fiery pain as he destroys my skin. “You came to ruin my life again! To expose me to the world!”

  “No,” I bite out, gritting against the intense burning. “No.”

  His chest heaves as he glares at me. “You came here for a reason.” He kneels between my spread thighs and I freeze. My dick jolts, pushing past the leather straps to say hello. The psycho prince with his black lips and metal crown smiles viciously at me before running the metal along the soft skin of my dick. Gently but threateningly. “Are you going to tell me?” he demands. “Or will you die with this mystery?”

  “I’ll tell you if you fuck me,” I taunt, the weakness inside of me craving his strength.

  My sadist smiles evilly. He runs his palm across my bloody chest and then wraps it around my dick. I groan in pleasure, unable to pull my gaze from his pouty black lips. His hand is a familiar tug on my heart, making me groan in pleasure. So many times we’d fuck around in the locker room when no one was around. So many times he’d suck me off in my truck. So many times he’d fuck me like a wild animal and I loved every second of it.

  “It was always only you,” I reveal in a whisper, my eyes
opening to latch onto his.

  A flicker.

  One brief moment of pain hidden behind the psychopath glowering at me.

  “Lollipop, I fucked everyone with an asshole from sea to shining sea,” he snarls, letting the burs of his barb sink in and snag.

  I wince. I know this. Hell, I’ve seen it in his hundreds of porn videos. And I fucking deserve it. But it doesn’t hurt any less. I want him to myself. Always have.

  “You know,” he says, dragging the tip of his claw along my inner thigh, just deep enough to leave a trail of blood rising to the surface. “I would almost believe you. Your voice is sincere. Your eyes don’t lie. But then I keep circling back to the beginning. Back to us. Before I was GLAM and before you were Rage. When we were both two high school kids in fucking love. Remember those days, hmmm?”

  I nod, sadness consuming me. “I miss them.”

  His jaw clenches. “But then I wonder how in the hell you decided it was okay to shame me in front of the whole world. If you loved me, then it wouldn’t have happened.” He rises to his feet and unbuttons his shorts. As soon as he shimmies them down his hips, his enormous cock bounces out heavily. My ass clenches in response. The first time with him hurt so fucking bad. But with time, it became amazing. We were amazing. The shorts drop to the floor and he kicks out of them gracefully.

  “Suck on it and get it wet. Nice and wet. You only get one chance,” he says coldly.

  Lube. I don’t get any.

  This small offer of kindness is more than I deserve. Pulling against the chains, I lean toward him as far as I’m allowed. He thrust his hips slightly, letting the tip of his dick whap me in the chin. But I’m starved for him. I don’t let him tease me. I take. I take from him because I’ve missed him so much. My lips wrap around him hungrily and I take pleasure in the gasp that releases from him. I try to suck his perfect cock down my throat, desperate to taste his saltiness on my tongue. Before I get too involved in my task, he grips my hair, yanking my head back so I’m forced to look at him.

  “That’s all you get. Now stand up, lollipop. I’m about to destroy your asshole.”

  I groan in excitement. All too eager, I rise to my feet, still slightly unsteady from whatever the fuck Peter put in my drink. My eyes rake over GLAM’s naked form. His hand is bloody from where he cut me, his glistening cock juts out proudly, and his high shoes make his calves look killer. When I make my way back up to his face, he’s smirking, his heavy crown slightly askew. Fitting. Crooked, evil prince.

  He disappears behind me and a cabinet door creaks open. I missed it. I don’t miss much, but I didn’t see fucking cabinets. Because he’s a trickster. He’s a monster who hides in plain sight dressed as a media darling. He’ll flay me and end this before I have a chance to plead my case if I don’t get my shit together and soon. I straighten my spine and spread my legs shoulder distance apart.

  “You’re going to have to hold on,” he purrs, his voice promising violent ends. “I’m taking you for a bumpy ride.”

  I wrap my arms around the slack in the chains, tightening its hold on me. This seems to please him because he slaps my ass over my kilt. Then, he sets to unfastening it at the back. It slides to the floor with a heavy thud. I step out of the kilt, kicking it away from us. His palm cups my ass, but before I can give in to the seemingly loving caress, he pulls away and then digs the metal down through my flesh.

  Howling in pain, I jolt, yanking against the chains to no avail. He continues his torture on the other ass cheek. Slashes, back and forth, just deep enough to hurt like a motherfucker. When he’s fucked up my flesh there, he slices through the skin on my back. Everything fucking burns, but I’ve never felt so alive. If I die here tonight, it’ll be because I wanted it. One last second with him. Rivulets of blood seep from the slashes. Between the pain and the drink he gave me, I’m dazed slightly. He pokes at me with his metal snake tail over and over again, making tiny holes all over my back. When he’s had enough, he prances over to the sink and washes my blood from his hands. He pulls a bottle of vodka from inside the fridge, baring his perfect ass at me, and drinks. Then, he turns to regard me with a lifted brow.

  “A drink, lollipop?”

  He looks so fucking innocent with that angelic smile, but his brown eyes gleam with madness. Fury and vengeance. If I say yes, he’s going to somehow punish me with it. Thrusting my hard dick at him in the air, I nod.

  Bring the pain.

  Bring the hate.

  Just fucking bring you, GLAM.

  Like a naked runway model, he struts over to me, his dick bouncing wildly. He holds up the bottle like he’ll allow me to drink, but instead of putting it to my lips, he pours it over my head and down my shredded back. The moment the vodka hits my wounds, I bellow, hissing and yanking at my restraints. I want him in my grip. I want to force him to the ground, bind his hands, and let me fucking love him.

  But he just won’t have that.

  Deep down, it’s better this way.

  Smirking, he recaps the bottle and tosses it into the corner. He disappears behind me again. The vodka runs a fiery inferno of pain as it finds its way into each exposed part of me. When I feel his strong hands at my hips, I wince slightly. His mouth finds my ear.

  “Good boy,” he croons. “I love it when you fear me.”

  “I don’t fear you,” I growl. I fucking love you. But even psychopaths don’t want a needy, desperate clinger professing their love on the first night of their reunion. I bite back those words just barely.

  “You should,” he bites out. “I don’t fuck gently.”

  “You never have,” I utter.

  The room grows silent. I wonder if he’s remembering the way he’d fuck me so hard sometimes I’d cry like a little bitch. We were just kids. It was new to us, but we were insatiable. He wanted to own every part of me. I wanted him to. If we didn’t live in a redneck-ass town with a bunch of homophobic assholes, we would’ve probably lived happily fucking ever after.

  His cock, no longer wet, slides between the crack of my ass. It’ll hurt. It’ll fucking hurt, but I don’t care. He pulls away and I hear the familiar sound of a cap being popped open. Then, he reaches around to stroke my dick with one hand while teasing my ass holding his dick in the other.

  Fuck, this feels good.

  He presses the head of his fat cock into my ass. No preamble. No warning. No easing in. Just press and slam. I howl at the sensation of being filled by him again. I fucked myself all week with dildos in preparation for this moment, but nothing could have prepared me for the way he fucks my soul. He just tears his way inside and makes it his.

  His hand fists my dick in the most delicious way as he fucks me hard. I grip the chains, pressing back, meeting him thrust for thrust. This is the best night I’ve had in a decade. His firm, muscular chest is slick with sweat as it rubs against my wounds, stinging me. He fucks my dick with his hand while his own dick annihilates my ass. The moment my nuts seize up, I know I’m a goner. I come with a growl, clenching around his perfect cock in my ass. This sets him off because he hisses, stilling inside me. His heat rushes inside me, a furious throb, as my own release spills from me. I’ve barely recovered when he yanks out of me. Metal scrapes from behind me and then he’s in front of me.

  “I couldn’t do this earlier because you were fucking hard for me the moment you walked in,” he says, annoyance in his tone. “But I’ve gotcha now, lollipop.” He grins up at me evilly.

  So fucking hot.

  I watch as he fits a small, metal restrictive chastity cage around my still wet dick. My nuts get pushed through a small opening that makes me groan in pain. It’s a snug fit because I’m not a one-size fits all kind of guy in the cock and balls department. Tiny pricks stab at me from within the cage and I frown in confusion.

  “Those little pins are meant to remind you that you can’t get hard unless I say you can get hard,” he says, batting his lashes at me before looking back down at my cock. He takes great pleasure in affixing a tiny lock t
o hold it in place. “There. Maybe when the clock strikes midnight, I’ll pull out my date for the night and give him a kiss.”

  His random moment of playfulness reminds me of the past. God, it fucking hurts. I miss him. I miss us.

  “Remember the time you trussed up my dick and balls with your shoelace?” I ask, my voice raw with emotion.

  He rises to his feet and frowns at me. “I got it in a knot. Your dick turned purple. I was just sure they were going to have to amputate it.”

  “You had to cut it with your pocketknife,” I say with a chuckle. “I still have a scar from where you accidentally nicked me.”

  He smiles, beautiful and real, for one sweet moment. “Oh, Rage, it wasn’t an accident.”

  His mouth teases mine with a sultry kiss that has my dick—fucccccckkkkkk!

  “It works!” he sings, stepping back to admire his handiwork. “Hurts like a little bitch, hmmm?”

  I nod, unable to keep the smile from my face, despite the torture this man brings me. “GLAM?”

  “Is this the part where you beg for your life blah, blah, blah?” he asks, pouting. “We were having fun. Most of my conquests cry the whole time.”

  “I just wanted to tell you. Everything we shared was real. We had to hide it and I hated that, but my parents were selfish assholes. When…when the tape got out…” I swallow down my disgust. “I was frozen in fear.”

  He scowls at me. “Imagine how I felt.”

  I wince. “I can’t. I don’t want to. It fucking hurts too much to imagine what you went through. And then…to think you thought it was me. That was the ultimate killer.”

  His lashes bat rapidly against his cheeks. “It was you, Chase.”

  “No, Austin,” I growl back, meeting his stare. “It wasn’t.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about but—”

  “It was Cord,” I hiss, the hate brimming to my rim like a pot boiling over. “He taped us and leaked it. But it was me who hid. I was a fucking coward. And the moment I realized I wasn’t a big enough man to come out as the other man in the video, I knew I’d lost you. That I didn’t deserve you.”

 

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