His Favorite Color is Blood - Coffin Nails MC (gay biker dark romance) (Sex & Mayhem Book 8) (11 page)

“I … I wouldn’t want to perv on
you,” Misha uttered, slowly becoming liquid heat in Grim’s arms.

Grim’s laugh was low and sexy as
it thundered all over Misha’s skin. “By all means, do. I want you to need me as
much as I need you.”

Those words were soothing enough
to let Misha shake the anxiety over Grim’s cock pushing at his ass. Misha knew
not to trust pretty words, but Grim really did seem set on eliciting consent—even
if his ways of going about it were sneaky at best. He’d never felt this way
with any man. After he was kidnapped, every interaction had an undercurrent of
fear and included calculating what to do to hurt the least once the encounter
was over.

“I want you to promise that
you’ll help me out even if you get bored with my body,” he whispered, tracing a
vein on Grim’s arm with his thumb.

Grim pulled away, pushed Misha to
his back, and leaned over him. He shook his head, frowning. “I won’t get bored.
I’ve wanted you for years.”

Looking into Grim’s eyes made the
dreamlike conversation in the darkness all too real, and Misha was glad for the
comforter hiding his erection. The intensity of Grim’s lust was like a dark
aura around him, ready to swallow up Misha and never let him go. Only as Misha
tried to understand it did he realize that all of this was in fact new. He’d
had the misfortune to meet men eager to fuck him, but they never spoke to him
the way Grim did. In their minds, Misha was a commodity they’d paid for and
would use. Grim saw
him
, even if desire clouded his judgment.

Choked up with the onslaught of
emotions, Misha went silent, and Grim pressed his forehead against Misha’s
temple.

“I promise, okay? I will never
leave you on your own.”

Misha was done with claiming that
he was tough and could deal with the world on his own. He’d been on pins and
needles since they’d left the base. “Thank you. You’re the best thing that’s
ever happened to me.”

Grim shuddered with such strength
Misha noticed the tremor in his limbs and heard the soft gasp coming from his
mouth. “Ever?”

Misha recounted his own life in
his mind. “Ever. I’ve had a shit life. And the one time I’d hoped for a better
one, I got burned so bad it nearly killed me.”

Grim slid his hand behind Misha’s
neck and pressed their lips together in the gentlest of kisses. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’re the good part.”
Misha stroked Grim’s shoulder, loving how sturdy it felt. So unlike Gary’s.

Grim pulled Misha’s hand to his
lips and licked his knuckles, staring into Misha’s eyes in the faint light
coming from outside. Misha gasped, and yet another shiver of arousal went
straight to his cock. Grim’s face was so ridiculously symmetrical he could be a
model. Just looking into his eyes made Misha forget about the danger he’d be in
if Zero or his men found him. He swallowed and reached to Grim’s pec, feeling
the heat beneath the skin with his palm.

Grim purred and opened his mouth,
gliding his soft tongue over the underside of Misha’s finger, only to suck it
in loudly without ever breaking eye contact.

Misha let out a moan and squeezed
the sturdy flesh on Grim’s chest, remembering how well Grim had sucked him off
the day before. He could hardly breathe, let alone think. No man had ever
managed to let him feel both safe and aroused at the same time. Those two
concepts had been mutually exclusive in his life when another man was involved.

“Fuck …” Misha whimpered,
completely mesmerized.

Grim’s eyes twinkled, and their
knees touched under the comforter as Grim slowly took two of Misha’s fingers
all the way in, slurping around his knuckles and massaging Misha’s wrist with
his thumb.

All the sensations, combined with
being only inches away from a man hotter than Misha’s favorite porn star and
hung like a horse, were just too much. Despite a wave of embarrassment, Misha’s
hand dove under the comforter and grabbed his own rock-hard dick. He’d come in
seconds, he was sure of it.

Grim pulled Misha’s fingers out
of his mouth and kissed them. “Touch me,” he uttered with a rasp to his voice,
and Misha wasn’t even sure whether it was a plea or command. Grim slowly rolled
the comforter off his body, revealing the erection that at this point stuck out
from the waistband of his underwear, and Misha’s hand stuck inside his pajama
shorts.

Misha hesitated, unsure of what
jumping down this rabbit hole would mean, but it was too late. The tension
between them was too thick, and he’d never felt so safe and elated all at once.
And Grim’s size didn’t scare him, since Grim wasn’t asking for anything that
could possibly be hurtful. He just wanted to be touched. He wanted to be close,
just like Misha did.

With his one hand still down his
pants, Misha reached to Grim’s erection with the other and touched the sticky
cockhead with his fingertips. He couldn’t stop panting from the excitement of
it all.

Grim shuddered, nipping on
Misha’s shoulder as he pushed the wet head of his cock against the middle of
Misha’s palm. The smooth tip caressed the sensitive skin, begging for more
touch. Before Misha could pull Grim’s briefs down, the light squeeze over his
balls had his brain melting. Grim was touching him through his shorts.

Misha started stroking himself in
quick moves as he watched every muscle in Grim’s body shift, his firm thighs,
his stomach, and his arms. Grim was worth photographing for posterity. Misha
pulled on Grim’s briefs, releasing the thick cock from its confines, and he couldn’t
help but wonder what it would be like to try to suck on it. The cock throbbed
in his hand when he grabbed it, adoring every vein. Grim had been right about
one thing: Misha did perv on him.

Grim moaned and looked down at
Misha’s hand around his cock. He rolled to his side, intertwining their legs
tighter as his hand trailed over the front of Misha’s shorts. He briefly
touched Misha’s hand before slipping inside, brushing over sensitive skin, and
touching the head of Misha’s cock.

With his teeth grazing Misha’s
cheek, Grim pushed his dick into Misha’s hand, fucking it in rapid, impatient
movements. Misha’s mind drowned in an image of Grim pushing inside him this
way, and all it took was a few more times of his fist pumping his cock for him
to come. And it was different from last time too, even if he was the one to
finish himself off. He was free, did this on his own terms, and wasn’t afraid
of what would happen next. And he didn’t
have to
give Grim a handjob in
return. He wanted to.

Grim pushed his face against
Misha’s neck, and his strong body twisted as he pumped his cock into Misha’s
hand. “Fuck ... this is so hot,” he uttered and sucked on the side of Misha’s
cheek as he clawed his hand against Misha’s hip.

When Misha had men touch him,
he’d always been very aware of his own body, but right now, the lines of where
he ended and where Grim began were blurring. He pulled his sticky hand out of
his pants and trailed it over the pronounced muscles of Grim’s stomach. He
kissed the side of Grim’s face and let go of Grim’s cock for a moment to swap
hands and have Grim fuck the one which had slippery cum on it. He’d done things
in his life he wasn’t proud of, many things he didn’t want to remember, but
this? This was all him, no acting, no worry over his mask slipping. And when
Grim’s mouth captured his in a frenzied kiss, all walls crumbled.

Grim pulled him close, and his
cock became even harder before it twitched, shooting a jet of cum between
Misha’s fingers. Misha opened his mouth wide, inviting Grim’s tongue, and
secretly wondered what Grim’s cum would taste like. The cock throbbed in his
hand with such intensity Misha clenched his ass around nothingness.

Grim’s muscles deflated when he
finished, and he collapsed on the bed, sucking on Misha’s tongue. His dick was
still hot, and Misha couldn’t bring himself to let it go as he felt the sperm
cool on his hand and forearm.

His eyelids were heavy, his
cheeks flushed, but he still looked at Grim, catching deep breaths. “I wasn’t
planning this.”

Grim laughed and kissed Misha’s
lips, gentler now as he lay next to him in a loose embrace, chest heaving.
“That’s normal.”

“I’m not really sure what I
want.” And thinking was not easy in the post-orgasmic haze with Grim lying
there sated, gorgeous, and with a cock not much smaller than when it was fully
hard.

Grim stretched and leaned over to
the bedside table, pulling some tissues out of a wooden box. He passed a few to
Misha and started cleaning himself off with a lazy smile ghosting across his
lips. “We can take things slow.”

“I’d like that.” Misha cleaned
himself quickly, unable to stop stealing glances at Grim. “Thank you for
tolerating my meltdown earlier.”

Grim smiled and slid his arm
underneath Misha’s head. “You’ve kissed it all better.”

Misha pushed into a hug, but as
his mind was clearing, he reminded himself he couldn’t be naive about this. If
he wasn’t careful enough, whatever he was doing with Grim could spiral out of
control. Sadly, the rest of his body wasn’t as logical as his brain.

Grim tossed the dirty tissues
away and pulled the comforter over their bodies, falling back into Misha’s
arms. His heart was thumping against where Misha held his ear, but the
rhythmical drumming was slowing its pace. Grim sighed sleepily.

“I’m gonna keep you safe even in
your dreams.”

Misha bit into his lips and
hugged Grim tighter. He didn’t even care anymore if this was some attempt at
manipulating him. He wanted to believe every word that came from Grim’s lips.

Chapter 10 – Grim

Grim raised the comforter as
gently as he could, and his breath caught in his throat when Misha’s right
stump emerged into the faint light coming through the net curtain. It was
smooth, and the hint of a scar at the side made Grim’s heart beat faster. He
wanted to lie down and put his face between the stumps, have Misha squeeze them
around his head, and suckle on the soft skin until he could come by his own
hand.

Once the second stump was laid
bare, Grim switched on the camera in his phone and started recording a short
movie. He let the camera linger on Misha’s relaxed face first, with some of his
hair out of the tight knot that he always wore since the rescue. Tension rose
in Grim’s body as he filmed Misha’s smooth chest, the shorts hiding Misha’s
pretty dick, the thighs that Grim couldn’t wait to fuck, and then the tender,
forbidden flesh of the stumps. It looked so unique he could hardly breathe,
filling with excitement as he leaned down to film the scars.

Their irregular shape made Misha
even more special. Unlike many on other amputations Grim had seen, Misha’s
scars were pink and quite visible. It made Grim wonder what doctor sewed them
up, because some of them looked crude. A few lighter scars marred the skin on
the knees and below, most probably from the accident Misha was in. Grim had to
remember to ask about that once Misha seemed to be in a good enough mood.

Grim gasped when Misha shifted
the stump in his sleep. He put his hand over his mouth to keep himself from
getting too loud. The sheet wrinkled slightly from the pressure of Misha’s flesh,
and Grim imagined it being his own skin.

He stopped the video and switched
over to the photography option, leaning down to catch a good angle at Misha’s
face from the perspective of the stumps. His subject shifted in his sleep,
yawning like the cutest little puppy, but when one of his eyes opened, Grim
didn’t have enough brainpower to hide the cell right away.

“Hey,” Misha muttered, but the
moment his eyes focused on the device, he sat up as if someone had poured
crushed ice all over him. “What are you doing?” he hissed and reached out to
grab Grim’s phone.

Grim hid the phone behind his
back. His lips pulsed with the need to kiss the broken limbs that were within
his reach. “I was looking at you.”

“Were you taking photos?” Misha’s
breath got quicker, and he pulled his legs to his chest as if to protect them,
clearly unaware that getting to see them move was pushing Grim’s arousal into
sky-high levels.

Grim shrugged, not seeing any
sense in denying Misha’s question, even though he disliked the accusatory tone.
“Only a few.”

Just as Grim was expecting Misha
to complain and cuddle up in the comforter, Misha sprung forward and pushed
Grim to the bed, trying to pull the phone out of Grim’s hand. “Are you insane?”

Grim stretched his hand to keep
the phone out of Misha’s grasp, though the weight on top of him was not
unwelcome, shifting and digging into his own flesh as Misha struggled against
Grim’s strength. “What are you doing?”

“Anyone can break into your
phone! I’ll be dead if they find me! Are those photos just on your phone or in
the cloud, too? Is your Internet on?” Misha’s eyes were wide as he tried to
wrestle down Grim’s arm, straddling his chest.

“In the cloud? What does that
even mean?” groaned Grim, and he put his hand on Misha’s ass. He understood that
Misha was nervous about someone following him, but this was beyond ridiculous.
“How would they even know which phone to target out of all the others in the
country? It’s statistically impossible.”

“There’s face recognition
programs. And if they assume I left with a biker, they could narrow down their
search. What do you mean you don’t know what the cloud is? Are your photos
automatically saved to a folder on the Internet?” Misha grabbed Grim’s jaw and
showed his teeth. “Stop touching my ass and think.”

Thinking was difficult with Misha
on top, especially with his eyes so fierce and the stumps touching Grim’s
sides. “Er ... I don’t know?”

“Fuck. Give me your phone. Now.”
Misha squinted at him. “You haven’t shared this anywhere, right?”

Grim shook his head, and he
chewed on his lip, unable to think about anything but that hot body on top of
him. “I’ll give it to you if I can touch them.”

For a moment, Misha’s face went
blank. “Okay,” he finally muttered, settling in Grim’s lap.

Grim smiled and pulled him closer
as he passed Misha the phone. “You’re afraid of shadows. No one’s gonna come
for you. Besides, I already told you that I’m gonna help. You’re totally safe,”
he promised, gliding his palm over the stump that was scarred the most. A flash
of heat filled his stomach and tugged on Grim’s balls as he gently petted
Misha’s leg while holding him and watching that pretty face go all serious,
like an angry toddler’s. Misha needed to be eased into it gradually and
understand that Grim wouldn’t do anything nasty just because he was allowed
near the stumps.

Grim bit his lips when the stump
twitched slightly at his touch, but Misha didn’t even look at him, too busy
meddling with Grim’s phone.

“You don’t know these people. You
don’t know what they do. I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

Grim exhaled and gently tickled
the other stump. He leaned in and kissed Misha’s temple, breathing in the scent
of last night’s sweat. He was sorry to let the photos go, but if a happy Misha
was a Misha that would be more sexually open, then he’d sacrifice the pictures.
“All right. No photos.”

“Not to mention that it’s fucked
up that you’d take them when I was sleeping. I’m not a fancy lunch you can put
on Facebook.” He pursed his lips and threw the phone to the bedding, as if it
were a slimy dead frog.

Grim kissed Misha’s cheekbone,
hugging him. “I’m not sharing them with anyone. You’re all mine now.”

Misha gave Grim’s face a shove.
“Are you done touching?”

Grim massaged his jaw and frowned.
“What was that? I said I’m sorry.”

“You’re not sorry. You’re only
sorry you got caught. I thought we had a connection yesterday, and you perv on
me with photos when I’m sleeping? What the fuck?” He tried to slip out of
Grim’s grasp, but Grim only held him tighter.

“You don’t let me touch them so I
thought I’d at least have photos for now. I can’t see how this is hurting you.
I’m not gonna force myself on you, and you should already know I mean no harm!”

“You’re deluded. That’s what you
are. I told you yesterday that I was freaking out over cameras. Or did you not
listen, too busy thinking of ways to coerce me into letting you touch them?
Fucking Christ. This is so messed up.” Misha rubbed his eyes, and Grim could
not understand what the big deal was about.

“I listened, but it’s a phobia.
Like those people who are afraid of spiders for no reason. I wasn’t sending
anything to anyone.”

“Let me go. I need to shower.”
Misha wouldn’t meet Grim’s gaze, which only ignited Grim further.

“What’s going on in that head of
yours, huh?” He pulled Misha’s face up.

“Nothing. I just don’t know what
to think. I need some space.”

Grim pressed his lips together
and patted Misha’s back. He was unsure how to navigate this. “But the sex was
great,” he reminded Misha.

“I guess it would have been even
better for you if you got to suck on my stumps, right?” Misha grumbled, and
Grim let him slide out of his embrace. He was beyond cute when he crawled
across the bed and reached out for his wheelchair, digging his knees hard into
the mattress for balance.

Grim massaged the side of his
face, already tired of this argument. “I’m trying to respect your boundaries,
and you still give me shit. I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I want you to not take photos of
me when I sleep.” Misha transferred into the wheelchair, and if it weren’t for
Misha having such a cute face and Grim wanting to establish a long term
relationship with him, he’d give him a slap for this bullshit.

“I already told you I won’t,” he
said, watching Misha’s stump press against one of the metal pipes that made up
the wheelchair.

“Good,” Misha said in a tone that
didn’t suggest it really was and then wheeled past Grim and into the other
room.

Grim fell down to the mattress,
trying to calm down the agitation simmering beneath his skin. He didn’t even
want to jerk off in these circumstances. He was too distracted, and frankly—tired
of Misha’s attitude. He was acting as if Grim were the villain in this
equation. But as he listened to the water trickling in the bathroom, he had an
idea how to coerce some positive reactions out of Misha again.

Misha took his time in the
bathroom, and when he was out, he was already wearing a tank top and a pair of
pinned-up tracksuit bottoms, which hid those beautiful stumps from view.

Grim pinched his chin, watching
Misha from the bed, dressed and clean from the shower he’d had earlier. Misha had
taken his time in there, and his skin was now deliciously pink, but the steam
didn’t seem to have changed his attitude.

“Are we going farther east today?
And I’m hungry. Can we get breakfast here? It would save us time later,” he
said as if nothing happened.

“We’re staying here for another
day,” said Grim, watching Misha with a new, steady feeling in his chest. He
needed to dissect his bird. Maybe once he knew what hid inside, Misha would be
more receptive?

“Oh.” Misha folded his hands in
his lap. “Is that safe? Are you sure we shouldn’t be on the move?”

Grim shook his head. “Running is
more likely to get you caught, and besides, we have things to do while we’re
here.”

“We do?”

Grim nodded and pulled over one
of his bags, where he kept additional weapons. “Come here.”

And there was that wary look that
told Grim he would need to do more work on Misha again if he ever wanted to
have steady access to what Misha was now so loudly denying him. Misha moved
closer in his wheelchair, and as soon as he was at arm’s reach, Grim presented
him the .22 Ruger that he believed could be a good firearm for beginners.

Misha inhaled deeply, and Grim
had all of his attention, as Grim hadn’t used a firearm but a magic wand. “Is
this for me?” He looked up at Grim with those big brown eyes.

Grim smirked.
Bingo.
He
got straight into Misha’s reward center. “Might be, but before I can trust you
to handle it, you need to practice. I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” he said
and gently put the gun into Misha’s hands.

Misha weighed it in his hand,
completely captivated. “Yes, I want to practice. I wouldn’t want to shoot you
by accident either. I’ve never held a gun before.”

“No?” Grim leaned forward,
squinting at Misha. “I got the impression you’re back to hating me.”

Misha inhaled with a guilty look
on his face. “I don’t
hate
you. There are many people worse than you out
there.”

Grim rolled his eyes, and his
insides clenched with anger. “You’re the worst at compliments. I don’t know
whether I should slap you or shed a tear.”

At least Grim managed to elicit a
little smile out of the fucker.

“I bet you’d rather have sweet
Andrey here. Laughing at your jokes, letting you fuck him whenever you like.”

Grim snorted. “Anyone could have
sweet Andrey. You are only mine. Only
I
know you this way.”

Misha gently nudged him with the
stump hidden in his pants. Grim knew damn well it was teasing, but he still
fell for it.

“Now I don’t know if I should
thank you or slap you.”

Grim frowned, deflated. “What did
I say wrong this time?”

“You just reminded me that anyone
with an Internet connection can see porn with me.” Misha looked back to the gun
again, running his fingers along the metal.

Grim’s face got sour as well.
“Fuck. There’s nothing I can say that won’t be taken against me, is there?”

“You could always lie and say I’m
funny and have a lovely personality.” Misha wiggled his eyebrows.

This time, it was Grim’s turn to
smile. He thought back to Misha’s serious face when he had been choosing
clothes he wanted to try on, as if were some kind of life-and-death situation.
“You’re fine with my job,” he offered in the end.

Misha handled the gun as if it
were a porcelain egg. “I could be a sniper. Help you out. For a fee, of
course.” But a smile still tugged at his lips.

Grim’s heart stirred, and he
slowly curled his fingers around Misha’s wrist, drawn closer as if Misha were a
magnet. “Sounds like fun. You’d be my sidekick.”

“I’d need to have a mask too.”

“We can get one later. What kind
would you like?” asked Grim, whose mind was already wandering to a reality
where he’d carry Misha on his back, both of them in combat gear, ready to
strike. Misha could be covering Grim’s back easier that way.

“Can I try yours on? It looks
cool, but I want to know if that leather isn’t too tight. I’d be scary with my
Russian accent. Villains are always British or Russian.”