Wrong Way Home - Taken (Criminal Delights 1)

It felt too good, but Colin didn’t want to enjoy it, so he twisted his hips until the softening cocked popped out of him. His legs were goo and he still hadn’t opened his eyes, but Taron sent him back on the bed, and laid on top of him. The strong arms wrapped around Colin’s body, like pythons ready to choke him, but it was Taron’s words that were the venom.

Quiet, barely there, yet heavier than the door to the fucking bunker.

“I love you,” Taron whispered so close to Colin’s ear he brushed his lips over the skin.

Colin’s heart imploded so rapidly the physical pain of it made him want to stand up, to regulate his breathing and make sure he wasn’t dying yet. Without thinking, he pushed Taron away, frantic and already growing fresh spikes. “Shut up.”

Taron slipped to Colin’s side and watched him with the eyes of a Golden Retriever who’d gotten his bowl of food taken away before he could finish. He had no right to sadness. Hadn’t he gotten his fuck? Did he have to ruin even the few pleasures Colin had left in life?

Colin stumbled away from the bed, dragging the injured leg awkwardly until his back hit the wall. He shouldn’t have been running away. He wasn’t scared, or sad, or happy. He was angry. No, he was furious!

“Don’t look at me like that! You think I’m stupid? You’re not gonna manipulate me!”

Taron’s expression hardened, and he sat up on the bed, watching Colin’s every move.

Each one of those last three gestures was hard to watch. Colin didn’t want to see them. He wanted to claw his own eyes out and never see them again.

“And I said shut the fuck up! I wanted a cock up my ass, not lies.”

Taron shot to his feet and, before Colin could even comprehend what was going on, slapped him hard. The sting made Colin grab his cheek, but his pride hurt more. How dare Taron act as if he were the hurt one.

Colin’s teeth clattered, and he pushed back against the wall when Taron raised his arms into the air and made noises that were hardly words.

“Don’t do that. You don’t love me. If you loved me, you would have listened to me when I said I needed a doctor. But you always just do whatever you want. You keep me locked up. In a collar,” he said, despite choking when he yanked at the metal ring around his neck. “I don’t fucking know, maybe you think you love me, but really I’m just the most convenient fuck you’ve ever had. I just happened to fall into your lap!”

When he finished, the ache in his throat told him that he’d just screamed at the top of his lungs. His ears rang, but he wouldn’t back down. He wouldn’t be Taron’s fuck-pet.

Taron was heaving as if he were the victim here. In this bunker where no one would hear just how loudly Colin was screaming, would Taron become more violent at some point? Colin braced himself for impact, watching his captor’s every move. Had he made a mistake? All his life he’d held back on telling people what he thought of them, but even his politeness had a breaking point.

Taron tucked his cock back into his pants and approached Colin with a scowl. When Colin stilled, expecting to be hit, Taron reached for the door and opened it. He pointed to the corridor with a decisive gesture, and grabbed Colin by the arm.

God. No. Was he being taken back to the cage?

Colin hesitated, but when Taron’s grip tightened, he left the room, limping along without a word. He didn’t want to give the bastard any ideas. Whatever chance for true companionship they’d had in the past was now gone. And rightfully so, because that chance had been built on a foundation of violence and lies.

Colin’s throat was choking him, his entire leg hurt from the effort of walking fast, and worst of all—there was cum between his buttocks, which right now felt like a sign of humiliation rather than pleasure.

In the silence, with Taron’s grip branding his arm with bruises, the walk itself was torture. They didn’t stop by the cage though, which made Colin’s heart lighter. Having to be helped up the steep stairs was as undignified as it was uncomfortable, but once above the surface, they headed straight for the porch. New horrors sprung to Colin’s mind. Would he be kept in one of the sheds? Those got hot and humid during the day, not to mention how isolating and scary it would be to stay in one at night.

But Taron sat Colin in the cushioned wicker armchair where Colin had been spending many of his days lately.

he signed, as if Colin were a dog, and went back into the house.