His Favorite Color is Blood - Coffin Nails MC (gay biker dark romance) (Sex & Mayhem Book 8) (4 page)

“Where do we go from here?” Misha
asked quietly, unable to swallow the lump in his throat.

Grim sat down next to him and put
his arm around Misha’s shoulders. “We can go wherever we want. What do you want
to see? Is this your first time in America?” he asked, but his gaze
inadvertently glazed over Misha’s stumps, as if he was already licking them.

Misha had meant where they would
go sexually, but he’d settle on small talk. He was so scared of being all
alone, yet just as terrified of becoming someone’s slave again. “Yes, I’ve only
ever seen it on TV.”

“Then it’s your pick, Andrey,”
said Grim, once again calling him with the fake name of his porn persona. His
fingers were slowly moving down Misha’s back, and at the same time, Misha
glanced at the enormous cock bulging in the leg of Grim’s leather pants. Cold
sweat beaded all over Misha’s skin when he calculated the size of that monster.
Grim wouldn’t try to fuck him with it on the first night, would he?

“You don’t have a home? Somewhere
you go to in your downtime?” Misha fought the urge to pull his shorts over the
stumps in some weird attempt at fetish-modesty, but that was exactly when Grim
touched one of them, cupping the ugly end of Misha’s leg. He still remembered
his lower legs, and every time he looked down, he knew something was missing,
and he couldn’t shake off the stabbing pain in his chest.

“Yeah, I do. Why? That’s where
you wanna go?”

“Yes. I’d like to see where you
live.” Maybe that would help Misha ground Grim in some sort of surroundings,
because as of now, he still knew close to nothing about him. So the man was in
a motorcycle club, he traveled all the time, and he killed people. Not much to
put on a business card. Unless “Ridiculously Handsome” was a job title. The
symbol of his club didn’t tell Misha much either, though the image of a monstrous
hand peeking out from underneath the lid of a coffin and nailing its owner
inside didn’t bode anything good.

Grim smiled and and nuzzled
Misha’s ear, kneading his stump as if it were the most appetizing steak he’d
ever seen. Misha always felt it was deeply disturbing that men lusted after
something that caused him so much misery. Even though he cared about working
out, keeping the rest of his body lean and attractive, because that was what
Gary wanted, a part of him felt like it didn’t matter anyway, because all these
men wanted to see and touch were the stumps. Sure, they weren’t all the same.
Some wanted to see him jerk off while others got off on watching him crawl and
climb into his bed or chair. None of those people actually cared about who he
really was and what desperate situation he was in.

Misha put his hand on Grim’s
shoulder, strangely shy over being with someone other than Gary after all these
years. But he needed to make Grim happy, and from the way Grim was looking at
him, leaning close the same way he did in the truck much earlier, it seemed he
wanted a kiss first. Misha couldn’t afford to resist, even if the fork in his
shorts was now like a separate living being, advising him to stab Grim in the
throat. Misha could then cut his hair, hitchhike to a big city, and … what?
Become a homeless, crippled beggar? At twenty-two?

All his thoughts dispersed for a
moment when Grim’s lips crashed into his with both hunger and a surprising
gentleness. Overcome by the spark of arousal, Misha barely had enough brainpower
left to slide the fork out of his pocket and blindly stuff it underneath the
pillow before all the grey matter in his head turned into vanilla sponge. He
was breathing hard against Misha’s mouth as they both sank to the mattress.
Grim shifted, and within seconds, he was over Misha, still petting the stumps
as his lips caressed Misha’s with more and more intensity. His tongue coaxed
Misha’s to move, stroking it lazily while their chests met when Grim lowered
himself slightly.

Gary had never kissed Misha like
this, not with this much dedication, and it was more confusing than Misha would
like to admit. But being a good kisser didn’t make Grim a good person, and his
size became much more threatening and alarming once they lay down. Maybe if they
made out all night, things wouldn’t be that bad? Misha gently stroked Grim’s
shoulders, never pulling away from Grim’s lips as he tried to work out what
Grim enjoyed apart from touching stumps. Misha himself tried to forget that
those artificially created parts of his body even existed. In his fantasies, he
was always a complete man, with feet dragging over the mattress, not misshapen
lumps beneath his knees. He tried to focus on Grim’s warm, fragrant mouth
instead.

That big, warm body stirred under
his touch, and Grim deepened the kiss, stroking his tongue over Misha’s palate
before suckling on his lips. “You feel just as good as I imagined,” he
whispered, massaging the stump with his thumb in circular movements. It was too
much already, as any touch to the delicate scars had Misha on pins and needles.

Those words were exactly what
Misha needed to remind him that Grim wasn’t exactly seeing
him
but a
webcam version of Misha that he wanted to see. The version that took Gary’s
cock with a smile and asked for more.

And yet, Misha couldn’t help a
rush of excitement streaming down his body when he felt the hardness of Grim’s
cock against his thigh. No matter how much horror he’d been through, he was
still human, and the years with Gary managed to numb the pain of … what had happened
before.

Grim smiled against his lips and
then moved his chin down Misha’s jaw, scratching it with the invisible evening
stubble. The sharp sensation was like a boost to Misha’s confused arousal,
which became even stronger when Grim suckled on his neck. Misha heard a moan,
and only half a second later realized it was his own. Maybe he wasn’t who seventeen-year-old
Misha had been? Maybe this
was
his identity now. Andrey, the amputee
porn model who loved nothing more than fucking or using sex toys in intense
videos. Was it though? He didn’t even know anymore, and that scared him more
than anything that could happen in this room tonight.

“What happened to you?” asked
Grim, crawling down the mattress until his handsome face was between the stumps
that always reminded Misha of spider legs.

Misha stared at Grim, unsure if
the true story behind his amputations would terrify Grim or turn him on. He
could almost hear the sound of a saw scraping against bone drowning in Misha’s
own screams. “I’ll tell you another time, okay?”

Grim nodded and cuddled up his
face against the shapeless leg before showering it with warm, open-mouthed
kisses. He was touching the other stump with his hand, his face flushed as he
was completely immersed in his fetishistic heaven. Misha took a deep breath and
lay back. He could take this. Even if it reminded him of the first devotees
he’d met in real life, and those were not fond memories. Grim’s tongue made its
way up a scar and Misha laughed aloud at the surprisingly ticklish sensation.
He put a hand over his lips in embarrassment.

Grim hummed against his skin, and
the unmistakeable sound of a zipper tore through the air. Any trace of laughter
was gone, but Misha still held his hand in place, too afraid to make a peep.
From making out and weird stump cuddles, the atmosphere became aggressively
sexual with that one sound. The ceiling seemed to be slowly moving down about
to crush him.

Nothing changed, with Grim still
kissing Misha’s stumps and thighs, but the enjoyment wouldn’t come back. Grim’s
dick was so big Misha didn’t even know if he could physically take it, and so
he couldn’t relax, constantly thinking about that monster unleashed out of its
confines. And even if Grim’s cock were of average size, taking a stranger
inside him felt so invasive. It’d been only him and Gary for over two years
now. But Gary was dead, and there was no one here to save Misha.

“You smell so good,” whispered
Grim as he slowly kissed his way up Misha’s thighs and past the bottom hem of
his shorts, slowly nearing Misha’s cock, which got hard despite his misgivings
and remained trapped in his briefs.

Misha was pretty sure he smelled
of sweat and fear, but he wasn’t about to argue with someone so enamored with
him. He dared to look down at Grim, nervous about the sharp focus that was
present in his eyes even at a moment like this. He feared what could happen if he
burst the bubble around Grim and told him the truth. Two forces were fighting
in him, one excited by the beast in front of him and one rational and eager to
run away as soon as he got the chance.

“Show me your cock,” whispered
Grim, nuzzling the bulge at the front of Misha’s shorts. He was heaving, and
between Grim’s strong thighs, Misha could see that long, thick dick that both
excited and scared him. He had to blink a few times to make sure he wasn’t
imagining things. That thing was bigger than the cocks of many pornstars he
liked.

Misha managed to tear his eyes
away to look back into Grim’s and faked a smile as he went into the character
of Andrey. Misha rarely smiled. All the pleasant expressions were Andrey’s.
“You’ve seen it a thousand times,” he teased but pushed his thumbs under the
waistband of his shorts and briefs. If he wanted any chance to blindside Grim,
he needed to go with the sex, let Grim fulfill his obsessive dreams, and put
him to sleep as a happy man.

Grim exhaled loudly when Misha’s
cock emerged, and he crawled up, molding his tongue to the underside before he
even grabbed it at the base. “I love your accent. It’s so ... different.”

Misha grabbed on to Grim’s
shoulder with a gasp. That lick felt too good to be true. Even if Grim’s cock
was intimidating to say the least, even if the stump adoration was freaky …
seeing that handsome face down his body made colorful sparks fly under Misha’s
eyelids. So what if the guy was into stumps? He clearly wanted Misha’s dick
too.

Grim pulled back the foreskin,
watching it for a moment before leaning down to slide his hot, wonderfully soft
mouth over Misha’s cockhead. It set off fireworks in Misha’s skull, and the explosions
became even more colorful as Grim played with the head of his cock, flicking it
with the tip of his tongue and slurping all around it.

Misha didn’t expect a blowjob,
and he couldn’t contain his excitement, as he had never gotten one from Gary and
didn’t want to remember the few other ones he had received. It felt as if he
had phantom feet, and the toes in those feet could curl. He moaned and slipped
his fingers to Grim’s neck, overwhelmed and too excited for words. If Grim kept
bobbing his head the way he did, Misha would not last much longer.

With Grim’s hand tickling his
balls now, Misha could completely forget that the other palm of his “savior”
was still touching one of the stumps. He was sinking into liquid heat, and the
pressure around the base was just perfect. His senses were on high alert,
picking up each vibration sent by Grim shamelessly moaning into Misha’s cock.
He was so hot, even with his hair out of place and the flush on his face. It
was like being sucked off by a model who couldn’t get enough of Misha despite
him being so incomplete.

A strange mixture of peaking
arousal and unbearable sadness pushed Misha into an orgasm that made him cry
out and grip onto Grim’s neck. It was nothing like jerking off on his own or
using a toy. The intensity made it hard for him to catch his breath, and for a
moment, when he closed his eyes, Misha truly was free.

When he was slowly coming to his
senses, he could still feel Grim’s breath on his wet skin, the weight of his
nose and lips against the underside of his cock, and he looked down into those
darkened, lustful eyes.

“You even taste great,” whispered
Grim, slowly climbing up Misha’s body to catch his mouth in a semen-flavored
kiss. The whole experience was so different from what other men wanted from him
in the past that Misha gave in without much thought, too tired out to even
consider fighting. As if the orgasm had sucked out all of his adrenaline, now
the exhaustion of this night came back with a vengeance.

But Grim wasn’t done yet. He spat
into his hand and curled his fingers around that immense dick, which was so
dark and thick that it looked like it was about to burst. Grim pulled on
Misha’s lip with his teeth, furiously jerking off between them.

Anger rose up in Misha’s throat
when his first reaction was feeling guilty over not reciprocating the blowjob.
Over not turning around and offering his ass with a smile. He would
not
feel guilty. He looked down, being the voyeur for once and enjoying the view of
that fist and cock in action, even if he was the masturbatory fodder.

Grim’s other hand was still on
the stump, but it was so hot to watch him slowly lose control next to Misha
that he couldn’t even think about it anymore. Grim kissed him again, his
breathing ragged and hot, but only moment’s later, Misha felt liquid heat on
his bare skin. Grim groaned so deeply it sent a shiver down Misha’s spine as he
watched his new captor come.

The thick cockhead, however
frightening before, was a thing of beauty now that it was dripping with cum.
But soon the orgasm was over, and the pretty picture was mangled in thoughts
filled with anxiety. How long could Misha provide orgasms until Grim got bored
with him? How long could he be Andrey, Grim’s porn wet dream? But most of all—did
he even want to? Wasn’t being out of the compound the chance for escape that
he’d been waiting for? No double doors, electronic codes, stairs, guards,
gates, and cameras. He could go to the police and ask them to contact the
Russian embassy. Tell them that he’d been kidnapped.