Page 46 of Devil May Lie
Letting go of his flaccid dick, Madden smeared his hand through the spunk, painting Berga’s chest with it. When the Butcher keened, he hushed him soothingly, reaching up to pet at his damp hair.
“Don’t touch me,” Berga snapped. “And stop. Clean this up right now.”
“Why? It’s just come, baby.”
“This is disgusting!”
“I don’t think so,” he disagreed. “I think it’s sexy. I think you’ve never looked hotter than you do right now. Besides,” time for part two, “it’s not any worse than what the rest of you is covered in.”
Berga went still as a statue instantly. “What…What do you mean by that?”
“Oh, did you think I took a trip to the corner store or something? You know you don’t have any lube here either, Butcher. This is your house, after all.”
“Madden.”
“Also, I needed to empty out the clip so it’d be safe to use on you, right? Your neighbor was kind enough to take the bullets for me.”
Berga swallowed, and he watched the movement of his throat bobbing. “Madden, tell me you did not murder Mrs. Crumby.”
Mrs. Crumby? He wasn’t sure what to be surprised over more, the fact that a married lady lived next door or that Berga knew her by name.
“It’s fine. No one will know. I dragged the body here and decided to use the blood for—”
Berga wretched, completely cutting Madden off. Nothing came up, but it happened a couple of times before he was finally able to ask, “Tell me there isn’t blood on me.”
Admittedly, he was starting to question his own plan, but it was too late to back down now so…
“Only on your thighs and your balls. And inside of you.”
Berga shook his head. “No.”
Unlike his sister, Madden was pretty smart. Attentive even. Even though he didn’t flaunt it like the medical student currently about to take his cock, Madden had a genius-level IQ. So it wasn’t that amazing that he’d picked up on Berga’s issues today, even if they were a bit more complex than he’d initially believed.
It wasn’t germs that the Butcher feared.
It was the idea that other people would find him dirty if he had them on him.
Eventually, he was going to have to discover the why, but one thing at a time. He shushed Berga again as he watched him slowly begin to unravel, and actually felt a little bad about his hand in things.
“I like you better when you’re put together,” Madden murmured, realizing that truth himself.
“Madden, please,” the desperation was starting to return to his voice. “Get it off. Get it off of me.”
“You look pretty though,” he insisted. “It matches your eyes.” Not really. Berga’s eyes were more of a fuchsia than red.
Berga made a pained sound. “Madden. Fine. I’ll do whatever you want. Whatever. Just get the blood off of me.”
“You’re going to do whatever I want anyway, Butcher.” But he’d seen enough. Madden captured Berga’s legs and folded them up, tearing the gun violently out and tossing it. He lined his crown up to that opened channel and then slowly inserted himself.
“No! No! No!” Berga rolled his head on the pillow and fought by kicking his feet, but he couldn’t get loose of Madden’s hold, his hips pinned as he was filled. “I’m going to kill you! I’m going—”
Madden shushed him. “The experiment is over, baby. I lied. Mrs. Crumbly is probably asleep and the only thing you’re covered in is sweat and come.” Probably tears as well, but something told him Berga wouldn’t take kindly to him pointing that last one out.
Funny, that after the stunt he’d just pulled, Madden even thought to consider his feelings.
Berga stopped fighting as Madden bottomed out, and they both stilled. “Really?”
“Don’t get me wrong, I do really believe you’d look sexy in blood. But fucking you in someone else’s isn’t really my idea of a good time.” He settled himself over Berga, chest to chest, bending his legs even more in the process until his knees were practically at their ears. “You’re very flexible.”