Deviant Games (The Controllers #8) - L.V. Lane Page 0,52

fuck have you been doing, Ryker?”

He jabbed me again, the bastard. “Whatever it took to stop her breaking apart while you were off—” He jabbed me yet again. “—racking up your guilt!”

We went at one another. It was inevitable, like trying to hold back an avalanche. Only this time, my heart wasn’t in it. This time my rage at him for manipulating the bond was tempered by my guilt. That fucking guilt that was deep enough to drown me. Other sounds penetrated the thumps of fists and the crash as we tossed one another around—the sounds of Lilly tearing her the nest apart.

It was Ryker’s face that caught me short. The tear tracks, so alien that I thought I imagined them. The red-rimmed eyes told the story.

My fight drained. I saw the punch coming, but made no attempt to evade it. I landed on my ass, head spinning, stomach roiling with sickness, aching everywhere, but most of all, through the bond. Pivoting on his heel, he stalked for the bedroom. I heard the low rumble of his voice as he fell into his coaxing mode. Her guttural cries pelted me far more viciously than his fists.

Blood dripped from my chin and spattered against my chest.

I heaved a breath in. My lips throbbed, my whole body ached.

The thud of the nest door closing stoked a fresh wave of aggression. I heaved myself up, feet unsteady as I followed after him.

The soft sobs filtered through the closed door. What the fuck was I going to say? How was I supposed to explain this? I was hurting her.

My open palm pressed against the door. I was an outsider.

I breathed. Breathing was all I could do.

Ryker

The nest had been decimated. Lilly fought against me when I entered, but I scooped her up, kicked the door shut, and took her under me where she couldn’t hurt herself. This time, I made no attempt to abuse the bond. Instinct told me doing so would be more damaging in the long run.

She cried, raking her nails over me.

I let her.

The physical pain was nothing to me; it was the other kind that wielded the fiercest blow.

I forced myself not to think. Before I’d met Lilly, numb was a comforting void into which violence and sexual gratification aroused only the slightest ripple. Now it was a utopia I fought for and failed to obtain.

As her sobs quieted and arms went limp, I pressed my nose into the crux of her throat and breathed her sweet scent in. She was flushed. My body responded, a clenching in my gut as I anticipated the taste. Lips closing over the fine layer of skin, I sucked. It popped, flooding my mouth. I swallowed thickly, fingers fumbling to free my cock so I could fill her at the same time.

Her mumbled complaint turned to a gasp as I snagged the entrance of her pussy and thrust. Her blood burned my throat and hit my stomach in a rush. Getting her tighter under me, I pounded into her soft cunt even as I savaged her throat.

She came, squeezing over the swelling knot until it locked into place. So much cum pumped out that it leaked around my knot and trickled onto the nest underneath.

Finally, the beast in me was sated. I pitched to the side, still knotted inside her, and against all probability, I fell into a dreamless sleep.

When I woke up, she wasn’t beside me, and for a split-second, panic assailed me. The raw bond assured me she was close, and as I jerked up in the wild nest, I saw her curled up beside the door.

Her small hand was pressed against the wood, her cheek on her hand.

I sighed. Instinctively, I knew Ethan would be on the other side. I wanted to fuck him up again so badly. When I picked her up to drag her further into the nest, the sound that left her throat was jarring. She fought weakly. A thump on the other side of the door gave an indication that Ethan was there. If the bastard tried to come in, I was going to end the fucker.

“You’re flushing,” I said. “You’re going to make yourself ill.”

Everything was discordant and bent out of whack. He was back. A week he’d said—he’d been gone for nearly four. His return had eased one crushing weight but replaced it with another.

“It’s not for you,” she said, struggling against me.

I gathered her against my chest, drawing her soothing scent into my lungs.

“Don’t,”