Page 22 of Beyond Hate (Beyond #3)

I needed to give it to him. My fingers yanking greedily against the headboard seemed to pull him out of the daze he was in—his hips thrust harder, sending him to the back of my throat and forcing me to breathe through my nose so I didn’t choke on him.

I could probably die like this and it would be okay.

I closed my lips around him and sucked, greedy for the taste of him, starving to see what he looked like when he completely lost himself to pleasure.

It made him cry out my name, a soft little burst of “Otto” that tore straight through me. My cock jerked without being touched, and I wondered if I could come like this, with him strangling me with his dick and his breathy moans stroking along my skin like a hand.

When he suddenly pulled out of my mouth and slid down so he could press a kiss to my lips, I growled.

“I wasn’t finished.”

“I wasn’t going to last,” he whispered, his voice wrecked, shame trying to creep into his eyes but failing around the walls of pleasure that had built up.

“That’s the point. I want you to feel good, rabbit.”

“It’s not really about feeling good … it just feels good to feel you .

” London’s soft confession echoed with a moan as he shifted his hips to slot our bodies together.

I didn’t realize what he was doing until he started to thrust in slow, rough movements against me, rutting our cocks together with the friction of precum and saliva as lubrication.

As much as I’d wanted him to come down my throat, the sight of him pressed so close…

close enough I could feel the heat of his breath against my lips, close enough I could almost inhale and bring his mouth to mine… fuck, it might have been better.

I licked my lips and he spilled forward, kissing me with a low whine as he rocked his hips harder, faster. I could tell by the hitch of his breath he didn’t have much left in him, but that was fine.

I honestly wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold out when he whimpered into my mouth and let me suck on his tongue until he was shivering. All of this and I couldn’t touch him—all of this, and all I wanted was to keep him in bed to take him apart for hours.

I wanted to rip him open.

I wanted…

“Fuck,” he gasped suddenly, his body tensing, his hands desperate as he tried to press us even closer. “Let me feel you, Otto.”

He came with a whimper, pulling back from our kiss and dropping his head to my shoulder. My hands yanked against the cuffs that held me in place—the desire to run my fingers through his hair, to jerk his head back so I could watch him as he fell apart was too much.

Too fucking much.

“Look at me, London,” I growled, my voice a hot demand that forced him to lift his head. His eyes were dazed when he opened them, and I knew if I let myself… I could get lost.

I wanted to get lost.

I wanted to drown in London.

“Oh, fuck.” He whimpered, and his hands came to either side of my head, caging me in.

He dropped forward, pressing his forehead to mine so I was swimming in the blue of his eyes.

“Fuck, fuck… Otto… I… come with me. Please…” He rocked his hips desperately, the slick of his cum hot, giving us friction so I could fuck harder against his trembling stomach. “Please, please…”

He didn’t have to beg. I couldn’t hold on anymore.

I came on a groan that brought my lower body off the bed and forced me to thrust into him, so I felt his fingers flex in my hair to keep him in my lap.

The pleasure ripped along my hips, arrowing down and out, and made me dizzy as my cock spilled between us.

Perfect. He was so fucking perfect, and he was watching me with wide eyes, looking at me like he was really seeing for the first time.

The haunted expression was gone—the pain, the fear, all of it.

It was just London staring at me in wonder, like he’d discovered the center of the universe and he was trapped in the gravity of us.

When he finally dropped his head forward and kissed me again, I let him. His fingers were trembling when he slid them between us to stroke me through the last of my orgasm, and they were greedy when they reached back up and he watched me as he slowly licked them clean.

He barely managed to pick up the key to the handcuffs, and he was shaking so badly I didn’t know if he was going to get them off.

“Breathe, London,” I said. It felt like I was always telling him to do that, and he let out a soft laugh.

“That’s the best orgasm I’ve had in… ever…

and you’re telling me to breathe. I just had the best orgasm of my life, my ex is dead in the other room, and you’re telling me to breathe .

” He finally managed to click one of the cuffs off.

I took the key from him, making quick work of the other one and pulling him against my messy chest in a smooth motion.

He let me do it, sliding down to tuck himself perfectly beneath my chin.

“Are you okay?” I asked after a few minutes, and he gave a soft nod instead of responding. It took him another few seconds to finally speak.

“I feel like I should feel guilty.”

Of course he did. Any normal person would.

“You shouldn’t. Just feel me instead. You didn’t do anything wrong.” And he hadn’t. It was me—it was all me—and I was willing to take the sin and a ticket straight to hell if it meant I could make him feel good.

I was willing to do anything to keep London pressed to my chest, so I could lull myself to sleep with the soft thrumming beat of his heart.

“I… okay. Okay. It’s okay, though, right? You can…”

I knew what he was asking. “I can take care of it.” I was good at hiding bodies.

“Do you need—”

“No. I’ll handle it. Just…” I stroked my fingers through his hair and tugged gently to raise his face to mine.

When I leaned down to kiss him, I could taste the salty mixture of our cum still on his tongue.

It was nearly enough to make me roll him beneath me so I could fuck him properly…

but honestly, I wasn’t sure if he was ready for that.

I wasn’t sure I’d be able to control myself if I did it.

I settled on kissing him until he was shivering, then I leaned down to pull the blanket over both of us.

“Rest, London. We’ll worry about everything else in the morning.”

Apparently that sounded good to him, because he nodded and nuzzled down onto my chest. I realized he’d settled himself over the soft beat of my heart when he finally let out a sigh and his body relaxed into me.

He really was too pure for our past, too sweet for the world I lived in now… and too perfect for me to ever let him go.

The feel of metal clicking on my wrist woke me.

The soft smile on London’s face was sweet, playful. His eyes drifted between my chained wrist and my frown.

“I need to go to work.”

“You don’t need to go anywhere.” Could he hear the soft undercurrent of a threat in my voice? I yanked carefully on the cuffs—I’d be able to get out of them, but he was getting dressed faster than I could manage.

“I do. Even if it’s just to let Til know that I can’t come in for a while.

It’s okay, Otto… I’m… I’m actually okay.

” He looked a little guilty when he said it, but his fingers lifted, brushing against his lips like he was remembering the taste of us, and he shivered.

“Don’t worry.” The corner of his mouth lifted into the prettiest smile that had no place on the face of someone who had seen his ex-boyfriend get murdered. “You know where I’ll be.”

He wasn’t running off. He wasn’t leaving me, but this did feel like payback for the way I’d left him. London lifted a hand and waved as he turned, stealing my jacket as he walked out the door.

Oh, he was fucked when I got out of these handcuffs.