Page 35 of Dark Cravings

I groaned, running a hand down my face. I was never going to live this down. "Is it too late for you to just kill me?"

His lips quirked into the most malicious smile yet. I very much doubted Castor had a shred of genuine interest in me outside of turning me into a hunter who wasn’t a lethal liability, but in that moment, I was absolutely certain of one thing: he got off on humiliation. Pain, too.

And I was definitely his favorite target, so that had to count for something, right?

ChapterFourteen

EDDIE

In the hours that elapsed since Castor had sent me back to my room, I had managed to convince myself that however his promise of helping me "resolve" my rut had sounded, I had heard him wrong. Even though there was no way the others could've known what was going on, I’d still felt like I was doing the walk of shame as I’d gone back to my room.

I had tried everything I could to take my mind off the torture. Push-ups first, since I suddenly had an abundance of energy despite being utterly exhausted before, and when that failed, solitaire. I didn’t know how it was even possible, but I was pretty sure I lost the game. When all else failed, I had resorted to jerking off, hoping that would at least ease some of my torment.

I was already hard, so that wasn't an issue. More the opposite. Even if I had been calm, thinking about Castor stroking me off would've been more than enough to get me there. So far, though, all it had done was work me up into an even greater frenzy. I would get to the very edge of climax, but I wasn’t able to come.

It was frustration like I had ever experienced before, and Castor's words still haunted me. What if it lasted forever? I was atypical in plenty of other ways, all of them bad, so why the hell wouldn't that be the case with this, too?

While I was still trying to jerk off, there was a knock at the door, and I froze. I really, really didn't feel like dealing with whoever and whatever it was on the other side, not the least of all because that meant I would have to get dressed. Even the lightest clothing was nearly unbearable against my burning flesh.

Grudgingly, I got out of bed and pulled on my boxers and a thin tank top before opening the door. I froze when I saw it was Castor, and even though my cock was more than a bit happy to see him, I wasn't ready to look him in the eye again after what had happened earlier.

"Father de Leon," I choked. "What are you doing here?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I told you I was coming over after work."

"Yeah, but… why?"

He just gave me a weary look that had become all too familiar and brushed past me, walking into the room.

Now I really wished I had cleaned up. I didn't have enough possessions for it to be a mess, but there was still some laundry on the floor, and the look on his face made it clear he disapproved.

"Sorry," I mumbled, even though I wasn't quite sure what I was apologizing for, snatching the clothes off the floor and dropping them in the laundry hamper.

He moved on from the state of my room to his favorite pastime, which was judgmentally assessing me. "You're still in rut."

"Well, yeah," I said, staring blankly at him. "You said yourself it wasn't going to just stop."

"I assumed you would've found someone to fuck by now," he answered.

"No," I said, wondering if it was possible to fold in on myself from sheer embarrassment. "For one thing, everyone else treats me like I'm a ticking time bomb."

"There's a reason for that," he said pointedly.

"Yeah, I know," I sighed. "Anyway, I'm not really the casual sex type."

"No?" he challenged. "You seemed fine enough with it earlier."

I opened my mouth to respond, but all that came out at first was a croak. "I… That’s different."

"Why?" he pressed.

I continued staring at him. There was no way he could be that oblivious, was there?

"Because it's you," I blurted out.

For the first time ever, he actually seemed to be at a loss for words. That made two of us, because I couldn't believe I had actually said those words out loud.

I waited for what felt like an eternity for him to respond, all the while fighting off the urge to make another awkward and socially inappropriate apology.