Page 16 of The Love Obsession (Bloody Desires #11)

ZAYN

“Where’s your room?” I didn’t love that my voice cracked. I was doing my best to ignore the cesspit of memories trying to suck me down, down, deep under where there was nothing but hell.

“Sleep in here,” he rasped, dragging himself closer. The heat that radiated from his body was incredible. I wanted to bask in the glow.

If I focused on the here and now—on Keaton’s body and pain—I could ignore the past. I surged forward and kissed him. He melted against me, the fight in him doused by whatever was running through his head.

Guilt. I knew that nightmare well. And he wanted me to replace the gnawing agony with something physical he could sink his teeth into and fight back against.

As I kissed him, old grief surged to the front of my mind. Fuck.

The horror show that tried to tug me under was why I killed. Why I played my game.

I would let despair pour out of me like acid later when I murdered whoever had given Keaton’s mother the meth.

At this point, Keaton seemed too sincere to be selling drugs without tipping his hand to me.

I kissed him until I tasted blood, and my adrenaline ramped so high I wasn’t sure if it was mine or his.

“Condoms and lube?” I asked.

He grunted. “Hold on.” It took us about a minute to separate, and I wanted to follow him to keep kissing, but that would be silly.

Instead, I flopped back onto the couch while he went into the small kitchen area and grabbed a box of crackers from the top of the fridge near the back.

He shook something out, and as he tossed the box in the garbage, I realized it was supplies for our fun activities.

“What is that?” I snorted out a laugh.

He shrugged. “There aren’t a lot of private spots in the trailer. No one else likes those.” A sweet blush took over his face. No, that man had cried over his mother and hadn’t felt the need to confess any sins.

There weren’t any.

I gestured to the spot in front of me. “Strip.”

He walked over and tossed the lube and condoms onto the couch at my side. I couldn’t look away from his pink face. His eyes were still red from tears. But his chest was flawless when he lifted his shirt and his cock made me salivate as it bounced up in front of him.

“Jerk off for me,” I demanded, voice barely above a whisper. My cock was driving me crazy, so I unbuckled my belt in a rush. I licked my bottom lip as I pulled out my dick. Keaton and I were a matched set, both of us ready to blow.

“Oh, fuck yeah.” Keaton spread the precum from his cockhead down his shaft, then gave himself a solid stroke that had his head falling back. “I wanted pain.”

“You’ll get it when I decide to give it.” I squeezed his hip hard enough to leave marks on his skin when I let go.

He moaned. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Do what I told you to do.”

A few beautiful minutes slipped by while he fucked his fist. His face started to get red with the effort of holding back.

I grabbed the lube and squirted some along the line of his shaft, and he moaned and picked up speed, his face going slack with pleasure and lips parting.

His chest muscles stood out as he really went to town.

“Does it feel good?” I asked.

He nodded and didn’t take his eyes off me. I hadn’t touched my cock, but it was standing at attention, enjoying the show with me.

“Say it out loud.” I rubbed my thumb over his slick cockhead and sighed happily when a string of precum pulled away as I brought my hand back and licked it off. He tasted bitter in all the right ways.

“Yes, Daddy.” He blushed up to the tips of his ears. I fucking loved this.

“Good. Stop.”

He whimpered and shook his head. “Daddy, I need it.”

Instinct kicked in and I hopped to my feet, cock bobbing in a way that made me want to fuck him into the ground.

I grabbed him by the throat and moved him down to face the couch on his knees.

I spread his legs with my foot and shoved him forward, and he landed on his forearms, glancing back at me.

I couldn’t tell if he loved or hated this, but he only had eyes for me.

“How much pain do you need, boy?”

He whined and didn’t give me a real answer, just looked at me imploringly.

I left him there, fingers threaded together in front of himself on the couch cushion, and went over to the kitchen.

I glanced around and found a wooden spoon in a dish rack next to the sink.

I’d never had this type of BDSM relationship, where someone had more power than the other person, but I could see myself enjoying it.

I was also certain it was my job to keep Keaton safe, and I took that type of responsibility seriously.

I smacked my palm with the wooden spoon.

I could spank his ass red without really causing any damage, so long as I was careful.

Those rounded ass muscles needed this spoon, I could tell. I walked over and deliberately paced behind him. “Tell me when you can’t take it anymore.”

“What—”

I swatted him, and he cried out and tried to squirm forward, but he was right against the couch and a big guy. There was nowhere for him to go.

A jolt of excitement powered through me. This was great. Why had I never tried it before now? My cock begged for some friction, so I swatted Keaton’s ass, leaving red welts, and casually jerked off at the same time.

I wasn’t trying to fall over the edge, but this was so fucking good.

Faster than I anticipated, I had to let go of my cock or risk painting his back with my jizz.

His right arm started moving, and I could already tell he was going to try to get to his cock.

I used my right foot to pin his hand in place on the couch.

“Bad boy.” I swatted his ass with the spoon until my left shoulder ached and his entire ass was red. “This is what bad boys get.”

He shouted and tried to squirm away, and I grabbed the back of his neck with my free hand, holding him still.

Excitement throbbed through me, almost as good as an orgasm. Everything felt fucking beautiful right now. I tossed down the spoon and grabbed his left ear, tugging until he tilted his head back and stared up into my face.

“Wait for me to be in you before you try to touch your cock, boy.”

“Yes, Daddy.” He whimpered and thrust his hips. At this angle his red cock looked desperate as precum dribbled down the sides. “Can I touch it, please?”

“No.” This was fucking fantastic. My entire body vibrated. The last time I’d felt this ramped up, I was holding a knife and blood was splattered across my face. I leaned down and bit Keaton’s neck where it met his shoulder, hard enough to meet some resistance.

We both moaned. I would never fucking get enough of this. Oh my God.

The sensation that I was half wild skittered through me, and I grabbed both of Keaton’s abused ass cheeks and squeezed. He shouted and humped his hips forward, bouncing his cock around. I dragged my mouth along his straining neck and sucked on his earlobe.

“I’m going to fuck you like this and grind against your bruised ass, boy. What do you think about that?”

Tears rolled down his cheeks and one plopped onto mine because I was pressed close, waiting for an answer. “Please, Daddy.”

“Good boy.”

I snagged a condom and the lube with one hand and used the other to grind Keaton’s face into the couch cushion in front of him.

I held him there, not letting him move as I used my teeth to tear open the condom and slipped it on.

I was sloppy with the lube, didn’t loosen him up. If he wanted pain, he would get it.

A good Daddy would probably give his boy what he needed, right?

I was lightheaded as I lined up to his hole and shoved inside.

The squeeze and heat of his body enveloped me and had my eyes rolling back.

For a few seconds, I felt close to passing out, but my hips knew this dance, and I was pounding against that wonderful ass and deep into his body without any thought.

When I came back to my senses, I gripped his shoulder and shoved deep, rocking against him to really grind against his ass.

He shouted, but it had a breathy quality to it that let me know I was on the right path. This was so fucking amazing.

“Do you want more?” I fucked him hard enough that the couch battered the wall.

“Please, Daddy.”

“Good boy.”

Sweat stuck my shirt to my chest and ran down my temples as I hammered against him, gasping.

I was losing focus on what I’d been trying to do because this felt so fucking good.

Keaton wanted the pain I was causing and that knowledge had me flying higher than a kite.

Who needed drugs when things like this existed in the world?

His shoulders were so fucking solid, and I grabbed them and used them to rock him backward as I pumped frantically against him, the sound of our skin slapping echoing in the trailer.

Keaton stiffened and clawed at the couch cushions as he shuddered and squeezed on my cock. He was loud enough to wake the dead, but there were no words, just a guttural cry.

“Did you come for Daddy?” I asked between dragging in deep breaths.

“Yes, Daddy.”

The headrush of him saying that and the bright pops of joy crashing together inside my body had me unloading. He was so big that I flopped forward and rested on his heaving back for a few seconds before grabbing the base of the condom and easing out of him.

“I’ll get stuff to clean up,” Keaton said, but he made no effort to move.

“No. Stay.”

He grunted and that was all the answer I got from him.

The bathroom was the size of a postage stamp, but it wasn’t difficult to find.

It was one of two other rooms in the place.

I took the time to freshen up and tuck myself away, then went out and carefully nudged him around to wipe off his cock before cleaning his ass.

“This folds out?” I patted the cushion next to him.

He nodded.

“Scoot over.”

He crawled and that had my insides flashing hot in a weird way I hadn’t anticipated. Well, that was something for later.

I struggled and got the couch open. There didn’t seem to be any pillows lying around. Huffing, I tossed the cushions back on so we would have a somewhat decent bed.

“Get up here.” I gestured at the foldout.

He nodded and crawled up, then within a minute he was out like a light.

Anger ate at me as I grabbed the garbage can sitting in the kitchen and started to clean up beer cans and other trash from around the living room and kitchen.

I knew the woman who had done it was dead, but that almost didn’t feel like enough.

Couldn’t she see her son was working himself to death for her and her daughter?

Cardinal lied to me before he died. Why?

All I could think was that he might’ve thought Keaton could take me out with his size and how he could fight.

Maybe telling me it was Keaton was Cardinal’s final fuck you to me.

Keaton wasn’t selling drugs.

Why did Cardinal lie?

Cleaning helped me burn off some of my frustration. When there was nothing left to throw away, I crawled onto the uncomfortable foldout next to Keaton and stewed. After a while, he slipped closer, and I found myself with both arms full of a snuggly man.

My orgasm had damned near gutted me. I should’ve been sleeping like the dead, but all I could do was worry. The cops were involved in this. If Keaton really wasn’t a drug dealer, I should cut my losses. Sticking around longer would be playing into the sunk cost fallacy.

But perhaps he really would find the people who gave drugs to his mom.

Then, I could play my game. I could rid the world of a small amount of evil and feel as if I was leaving it a better place when I eventually lost. Because somehow, someway, someday this would get me killed.

It was just a matter of time. I worked alone.

There was no one to have my back if things went tits up.

Yes, I was alone, same as Keaton.

I bolted upright and glanced toward the door as a thought struck me, then back down at Keaton.

But perhaps someone really did think he had a shit ton of meth in here.

If that was a rumor going around, and I’d taken it as fact, then perhaps other people thought the same thing.

And one thing was universal, meth heads loved meth.

They weren’t stable at the best of times.

And Keaton had his little sister living here.

He might not enjoy it, and it might not be fucking smart for me to offer, but we were going to have to get him and his sister out of here because now that his mom had turned up dead with meth in her system, someone around here would find out.

And they might decide to take their chances against Keaton and clean out her stash, since he was here all alone with a little girl who could easily be used as collateral.

“Fuck.” I hopped out of bed and went out to my car. I popped the trunk and grabbed my red toolbox, then hustled inside. Once the door was closed and locked, I popped the lid, lifted up the top tray, and took out my Glock. I sat down next to Keaton on the bed and rubbed his solid back.

This might be the dumbest thing I’d ever done, protecting someone I wasn’t one hundred percent sure had clean hands, but I couldn’t help myself. I would shoot anyone who came through that door and I would whistle while I buried them.