19. Cameron

Chapter 19

Cameron

Waking slowly, I rolled over and reached for Deimos, but instead, I found the bed empty and the satin sheets cold beside me. I held my breath, waiting for the regret over what we’d done, but it never came. Last night was… something else. I didn’t have a lot of experience when it came to sex, but even I knew that had been better than your average roll in the hay. It had been charged, electric, and just in case I thought the first time had been a fluke, Deimos had been sure to repeat the performance twice more for good measure, once in the kitchen and finally once in his bed.

It wasn’t just about sex, though. It was about Deimos, the man behind the god. He wasn’t anything like his brother. Not as honorable or as outwardly kind, but that only meant that when he was tender with me, I felt like I had earned it. There was just something about him that had gotten under my skin .

When most people thought about a gift to a lover, they might think chocolate, flowers, or sexy underwear. Not Deimos, though. He’d given me a taste of revenge.

Raised to fight against evil incarnate, I’d grown up knowing that violence had a place in this world. When I thought of Scott, though, how pathetic and weak and small he’d looked while begging on his knees, I realized I probably hadn’t needed to hit him. To abase and humiliate him in the way I had.

But did I regret it? Not even a little. It was something I never would’ve asked for, but maybe it was something I hadn’t known I’d needed. A way to put the past behind me. It was only a pity Scott wouldn’t remember that moment, to relive it every time he thought of me.

As my thoughts took a dark turn, I made a conscious decision to live in the light instead.

I wonder where Deimos went and if he might be in the mood for a proper good morning…

I went to sit up, and out of nowhere, the room tilted at an obscene angle, throwing my world into a spin. I groaned and fell back, clenching my eyes closed. “Not again,” I whimpered.

I’d been trying to ignore it, the tingle at the tips of my fingers. I told myself I was imagining it, like a phantom limb, but I knew that was a big fat lie, right up there with Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny.

My powers were slowly coming back.

It was like a creeping ivy, barely noticeable at first, easy to ignore, but the second you took your eye off it, it would be overgrown, choking the life from me. I could no longer pretend it wasn’t happening, the powers rising inside me again. And with it, the illness would return, like an infection, lesions in my brain robbing me of my ability to function .

Why did I think Deimos could cure me, could take them away permanently? The powers would just keep coming back, like refilling a cup. Could I convince him to take a little more?

I’d chewed the inside of my cheek raw by the time I was interrupted. My phone gave a loud trill, and I turned my head toward the nightstand, to find that Deimos had set my cell there at some point. I stretched out my arm and grabbed the phone, glancing at the call display.

I sighed, bracing myself for what I knew would be a difficult conversation. “Hey, boss,” I answered, trying to keep my voice light.

“Cameron!” he shouted, his voice hitting a high pitch, causing me to pull the phone away from my ear, wincing. “Where the hell have you been?! I’ve been calling you for weeks!” Weeks? Had it really been that long?

“Yeah, sorry about that,” I drawled, guilt niggling at me.

“Sorry? That’s all you have to say? That you’re sorry ?!” he belted out. “Tell me where you are. I’ll come get you.”

I nibbled on a fingernail. “Uhhh… you know, I don’t think that’ll be necessary.” I didn’t need saving. I was currently lying in Deimos’s bed, because we no longer needed the pretense of the cell. I could leave anytime I wanted.

“It’s very necessary! Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? One minute we’re gearing up for battle, the next, you were just… poof! I tore that damn hospital apart for hours looking for you! You’d just up and vanished without a trace! And now Deimos is holding you against your will! When I get my hands on him, I’m going to tear him limb from limb!”

I’d never seen Phobos anything but nice and sweet, and this side of him was giving me heartburn. “Hey, you know Deimos never intended to kidnap any babies, right? ”

There was a tense silence through the phone, and I looked down at the screen to make sure the call was still connected. Finally, he said, “Why does that matter right now?” His voice, which had been so full of fear, had turned wary and suspicious.

“Well, I just think it’s important that you know that. Your brother’s not such a bad guy, you know. He never planned to hurt anyone, and he’s been really good to me since I’ve been here. Great food, all the streaming apps, a comfortable bed—”

And of course, at the mention of bed, the door opened and the man in question strolled in, wearing a sexy smirk and carrying a tray loaded up with scrambled eggs, sausages, and cut fruit. He didn’t seem surprised to see me talking to Phobos, and I wondered if he’d talked to his brother at all since he took me.

“You can’t trust him,” Phobos snapped, but I wasn’t really listening to anything he was saying. My full attention had shifted to watching Deimos as he set the food on the table then walked— prowled —closer. He moved with such languid grace, I was infatuated, and Phobos’s voice faded into the background.

Deimos dragged the blanket back with excruciating patience, exposing my naked body to him, his heated gaze devouring me inch by inch. My flesh warmed under his perusal, my cock waking up to say hello. “Don’t mind me,” he whispered, crawling onto the bed between my legs. “Keep talking on the phone.”

Forcing my attention back to the call, I heard Phobos saying something about what a no-good, dirty rogue his brother was—and Deimos seemed determined to show me just how depraved he could be.

“Uh-huh,” I mumbled into the phone as Deimos licked from my knee, all the way up the inside of my thigh, nudging at my balls, over my shaft, not stopping until he was laving at my nipples, one then the other. “Oh yeah, he’s the absolute worst —” I bit back a gasp as he clamped down, biting my oversensitive nipple and sending a thrill of arousal through me.

Deimos looking up at me through his lashes as he slithered his way back down, dragging his torso across my erection. I knew I should hang up the phone, but I couldn’t seem to concentrate long enough to say goodbye, and I’d already worried Phobos enough. I didn’t need him tearing the city apart next in his efforts to locate me.

“I’m glad we agree,” Phobos said, sounding satisfied. “While I’m glad he hasn’t hurt you, I want you to remember that he’s the bad guy. You have to know he’s been using you.”

He was using me alright, as a popsicle. Taking a hold of my shaft in his fist, Deimos wrapped his lips around the head of my cock and sank down, encasing me in his warm, wet mouth. He moaned as if I were the tastiest snack he’d ever had, the vibration of his purr making my balls clench tight. He brought me deeper than I thought possible, until I was nudging at the back of his throat, then he sucked gently and swallowed. It felt absolutely incredible, but it wasn’t until he slipped a finger into my ass, crooked just perfectly to stroke my prostate, that my brain glitched.

Pure erotic pleasure crested inside me, colliding and clashing, and when it came in contact with that tiny growing bead of power, it erupted in a hot arc of blue electricity. Deimos popped off in shock, and my eyes flew open.

Deimos reluctantly pulled out of my ass, and as much as I tried to keep my disappointment contained, a sound must’ve slipped out, because Phobos paused. “Cameron, are you okay?” he asked.

“I-I…” Coherent thought was out of the question, let alone full sentences .

Thankfully, Deimos plucked the phone from my hand. “Sorry, Brother, Cameron’s gotta go now. We’re terribly busy.”

“Busy doing what?” I heard Phobos snap.

I chewed anxiously on my lower lip, and Deimos arched an eyebrow at me, as though issuing a dare. Instead of all the terribly inappropriate answers he could have provided, he said simply, “I don’t think you want the answer to that question.” Then he hung up and tossed my phone aside on the mattress.

His eyes narrowed accusingly, and I shrank back. “Care to tell me what that was?”

I felt fully exposed the way he was watching me, but when I tried to grab the blanket to pull over myself, he snatched it back. “Cameron, seriously. What was that spark?”

Why did I feel guilty? I’d done nothing wrong. “I-I need you to… take a little more from me.”

My eyes skittered off to the right, but he tucked a finger under my jaw and turned my face back. “I didn’t take enough?”

“It’s not that. It’s just… I can feel it building up again.” I huffed and took his hand from my jaw, and entwining our fingers, I laid his palm over my heart. “It’s not like a bucket you can dump out and be done with it. It will just keep coming back and back and back…” My throat grew tight, choking off my words, and my vision grew blurry with the threat of tears. “Please… tell me you can handle a little more.”

In reply, I felt his hand begin to heat, my skin tingling beneath his touch. I could feel this toxic power leaching from me through our connection, and I gasped at the sensation. “Deimos!” I moaned, dragging our joined hands down to where my erection was weeping.

Together, we wrapped our hands around my dick, stroking it slowly. “Is that better, little omega?” he asked, his voice rich and deep.

“So gooood,” I groaned, bucking my hips in time .

I watched, enthralled, as he dragged his thumb across the slit at the tip, collecting precum, before bringing it to his lips and sucking it clean. “You taste like the sweetest ambrosia,” he said. “I will never get enough…”

With that, he lowered himself over me, kissing me hard, and I could taste my essence on his tongue as he massaged mine, sharing my unique flavor. With his mouth on me, I suddenly felt like I understood a bit about Stockholm Syndrome. I could see myself developing a bit of an obsession with my captor, if not falling outright in love with him. As needy and aching as I was, I thought I could’ve stayed like that forever, just kissing him for an eternity.

Deimos, however, had other ideas…

Without warning, he let go of my cock, and before I could complain, he gripped me around the waist and flipped me over onto all fours. He pressed firmly between my shoulder blades, until my chest was on the mattress, my hips canted up. Deimos moaned in appreciation as he traced his fingertips along the length of my spine.

“What a sight,” he whispered as he reached the cleft of my ass, delving in with his fingers. He buried his face between my cheeks and lapped at my hole until he had me begging. It wasn’t enough—I needed more .

As Deimos pleasured me, ravenous and desperate, he drained every drop of the power from my body until he became drunk with it. It only made sense, because on the other end of the spectrum, I was intoxicated with feeling healthy and normal. It was an even trade in my mind.

I could get used to this…

He’d teased me long enough, and I decided to take matter into my own hands—literally. I reached for my bounding cock, but Deimos slapped my hand away, his possessive growl vibrated straight through where he had his tongue speared inside me. I pressed my face into the mattress to muffle my whine, a long stream of precum dribbling onto the sheet.

He rose up onto his knees, tearing off his robe. “You seem to think you can do a better job at pleasuring yourself than I can, but I’d like a chance to prove you wrong.”

Lining himself up behind me, he didn’t give me a chance to brace myself before he gripped my hips and slammed himself home, filling me to the brim. I cried out, scrambling to get a hold of something, because there was no slow easing in, taking a gentle pace to get used to the stretch. The sting bordered on too much, but I savored it, longed for more. Deimos set a punishing pace, his hips slapping against me with each thrust.

Even then, I felt like he was holding back, determined not to hurt me. The problem was that I wanted him to hurt me—bruise me, mark me for all the see, proof that this happened when tomorrow I was convinced it was all a dream. I rocked back into him, trying to coax him to let go.

He slapped my ass, a sharp hot sting grounding me in the moment. “Hold still, Cam, or I might lose control.” He sounded like he was in pain.

“Good,” I hissed, looking over my shoulder at him.

His pained expression shifted into a mischievous grin. “Are you sure you know what you’re asking for?”

“Why don’t you show me?” I taunted. “I dare you.”

Deimos was not the type to back down from a challenge. He reached out and laced his fingers through my hair. “Hold on,” he warned darkly.

Relentlessly, he drilled into me again and again, hard enough that my legs gave out, and I soon found myself lying belly flat on the mattress, his full weight pressing me down. His grip was bruising, my scalp stinging where he fisted my hair. My cock was sandwiched under me, the pressure and friction adding another dimension to the already overwhelming sensations.

And if all that wasn’t enough, tiny electric sparks began to pop and crackle between us as Deimos seemed to have reached the max of how much energy he could take—his metaphorical battery was overflowing, and our sweat made a great conductor.

I came hard, my cum pumping out onto the bed beneath me. My channel clenched around him, in undulating spasms, but he just kept going. I had no time to recover. My body felt thoroughly used, oversensitive, but I never wanted him to stop. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I chanted, a second orgasm already building.

I could tell when he was close, his rhythm stuttering, his breath hot and heavy by my ear. “I’m gonna fill you so full of my cum, you’ll be able to taste it,” he gritted out.

Knowing he was about to come gave me the nudge over the edge, and I came again with a whimper. Deimos groaned, lodging himself deep inside me when his knot swelled, and he bit down hard on my neck as he came, warmth and happiness and satisfaction rolling through me with an unstoppable force. I could feel him throbbing, filling me with his hot cum.

We both collapsed into a sweaty, sticky pile, chests heaving as we tried to catch our breath. His heart was racing, its thrum pattering against my back. “Tired already? I thought you were in better shape than that,” I teased breathlessly.

He laughed, rolling us gently to our sides. “Look who’s talking, sidekick. We’re gonna have to work on your stamina. I recommend a cardio-intensive workout regime. I’ll meet you tomorrow, same time, same place. ”

I may have drifted off for a few moments, because I blinked awake when his knot slipped free of my ass, a rush of his cum leaking out. I missed him already.

“Come on, love. Let’s go for a shower,” he said behind me, rolling off the bed and padding toward the bathroom.

My entire body froze, and I was suddenly wide awake. Did he just call me… love? That was a pet name, right? He certainly hadn’t meant that he loved me. That wasn’t possible. Right?

And why had it made my heart skip a beat?

After a moment, I heard the shower start, and I schooled my expression into something neutral, not at all the mental freakout that was going on inside. Wincing at how tender my ass felt, I tiptoed across the polished concrete floor and slipped into the bathroom. Deimos was already standing in the shower, his silhouette delectable even through the frosted glass.

Staring at myself in the mirror, I traced the outline of his bite mark on my neck. “Is there room for me in there?” I asked softly. Why did I suddenly feel unwelcome? He hadn’t done anything to make me feel that way, but alarms were blaring in my head, telling me to run like hell. I was going to get burned by this man.

Deimos pulled back the sliding glass door. “Of course.” When I didn’t get in fast enough, he reached out, dripping water all over the floor, and dragged me in. I landed against his chest, his arms locking behind me.

His skin was wet and heated from the scalding water, but he politely rotated us so I could have my share of the spray. I kept my gaze focused on the dark hair on his chest, trying not to notice the care he took with me as he lathered the soap between his hands then soothed my body with a gentle touch .

“You’re awfully quiet,” he said, reaching for the shampoo next. “Was it too much?” Those were his words, but what I heard him say was “ Am I too much?”

I shook my head as he began to work the shampoo into my hair. “No, it was just enough.” Peeking up at him, I asked the question that had been bouncing around in my head since Phobos first told me about it. “What was he like? Your lover?” He must’ve been someone special to drive him to such lengths for revenge.

His hands stilled, and shutters seemed to drop down over his eyes. After a second, he resumed washing my hair, but it was with clinical efficiency, none of that intimacy from a moment ago. He turned me around and tipped my head back to rinse.

Neither of us spoke. For a minute, I thought he wouldn’t answer, that I had crossed a line in invading his personal life, but I refused to take it back. He knew things about me—intensely personal and embarrassing things that no one else knew—and I knew hardly anything about him, outside of his sexual preferences, so I felt like I had the right to at least ask. He could tell me to fuck off if he didn’t want to answer.

“He was… human,” Deimos said eventually, his gaze unfocused as he revisited the past. “Gorgias was mischievous and funny and… mortal, and he made me want to be a better man. I’d always known he would die too soon, but I’d assumed we would spend that short life together.” His eyes hardened into chips of amethyst. “So when Loki came along and lured him away, I felt cheated. Time passes so quickly for us gods, but I would never get those handful of years back. Gorgias wasn’t just my lover, he was my chance at a family, and that was what Loki stole from me. A future.”

I thought of what it had felt like seeing my ex on his knees. He’d stolen something from me too, and to see him taken down a peg, begging and weak, had been a rush. In that moment, it had gone straight to my head, leaving me dizzy and giddy. And even though I couldn’t turn back time, couldn’t reclaim what was taken, I had felt vindicated. Was that what Deimos felt, chasing his revenge against Loki? The chance to make amends, even after all this time?

Smoothing my hands over his chest, I pressed a kiss over his heart. I felt too close to him, but also too far. I felt anger for all that he’d done wrong, but also sympathy and affection for what he’d gone through.

“What we have, what we’re doing, it isn’t healthy,” I said, trying to build a barrier between us, even as I felt like it was far too late to stop it. “I’m using you to make me feel better, and you’re using me for your revenge.”

Deimos drew me close, the water sluicing down between where our bodies were joined. “Do you want to stop?” he asked.

“Fuck no.”

We both laughed. Toxic relationship or not, I wasn’t about to walk away. There was a good chance I would die without him, but it wasn’t just that. He made me feel better in every way. And while I wanted to believe I was the good guy here, I knew better than that.

Both of us were colored in shades of gray.

“You know I’m not him, though, right?” I asked, feeling vulnerable. I wasn’t trying to replace his lost love.

“What?” he asked, confused, but then realization dawned, and he stroked his fingers through my hair. “Yes, of course I know that. I would never dare compare you to anyone. I’ve never met anyone like you before, Cameron, and you’re better than us all.”

“You tell the most beautiful lies,” I said with a sad smile.

And then he kissed me, and we spent the rest of the day helping each other forget, until all that I knew was Deimos.