His Favorite Color is Blood - Coffin Nails MC (gay biker dark romance) (Sex & Mayhem Book 8) (5 page)

No. That wouldn’t work. The
moment he’d end up in a file, Zero would send his men for him. He’d torture
Misha for weeks and put it all on the dark web so that anyone who would even
consider messing with him would think twice. What Misha needed to do was to find
a way to go off the grid, and Grim was the only thing in the way of Misha’s
freedom.

Misha would take that chance no
matter how pretty Grim’s cock was or how good his mouth felt when he sucked
Misha off. At the end of the day, Grim was a murderer who didn’t think much of
stealing Misha away for himself and cared more for the life of cattle than
people.

Misha would be no one’s exotic
toy ever again.

Chapter 4 -Misha

The sex left Misha utterly
confused. He couldn’t deny it’d been enjoyable. Grim was an amazing kisser, and
even as they lay side by side in the dark room, Misha could still feel the burn
of his captor’s lips and teeth on his skin. The blowjob had been out of this
world. It had actually gotten him off and hadn’t been just for the pleasure of
his partner. As dubious as Misha was, he couldn’t deny that Grim had been
trying to make him feel good, and he hadn’t even demanded anything in return
yet. Grim had jerked off that amazing cock while sucking on Misha’s lips as if
they were the sweetest ice cream.

Still, Misha hadn’t wanted any of
it, and neither the orgasm nor all the caresses he received could make that
right. Shame crept up his chest as he lay next to Grim’s warm, very naked body.
It settled on his ribcage like a demon intent on choking the life out of Misha
once he fell asleep.

But as dreams refused to come,
Misha tried not to think about the big cock touching his thigh. He felt uneasy.
The hotel room was much bigger than his tiny place in Gary’s apartment, but all
the empty space made him oddly anxious. It made him wonder how he could ever
cope with freedom again. Still, if being free meant not experiencing the fears
he had lived with for the last few years, he would do anything to untangle
himself from the new set of greedy clutches that held him close.

Once Misha was sure Grim was asleep,
he reached under the pillow and squeezed his hand over the cool metal of the
fork. It felt so alien in his grasp, a weapon that he’d brought here with a
homicidal intent. All he needed to do was to stab Grim the right way. He would
be free then, even if homeless and penniless. Grim’s relaxed breaths against
Misha’s shoulder were suffocating him like a plastic bag tied around his head and
made his skin break out in gooseflesh.

He squeezed the fork in his
sweaty palm, afraid that the drumming in his chest was loud enough to wake Grim
up, and who knew what this man would do then? With a ray of artificial light
coming in from between the blinds, Misha watched the veins on Grim’s neck,
trying to work out which one to target. His vision was becoming a blur from the
panic over what he was about to do. Even if Misha didn’t manage to kill Grim,
taking care of the wound would be Grim’s priority, and so he wouldn’t chase
Misha right away.

He raised himself on his arm and
took a deep, shaky breath, tracing the air with the fork to work out the
trajectory he needed for the assault. He was not a slave. He was Mikhail
Andreyev, and he
would
have a life after this, even if no normal man
were to want him in his bed.

Misha put all his strength into
the swift stab, but the fork never reached its target. Grim’s thick forearm
blocked Misha’s, and in a surreal moment, their eyes met. Misha let out a
scream as his mind went into overdrive.

He’d been discovered.

He could either fight now or take
his punishment silently, but he’d already promised himself not to submit again.
He pulled himself up and stabbed at Grim again, but the moment his right wrist
was locked in a tight hold, he knew resistance was futile.

Grim pulled on Misha’s hand,
forcing him to roll on his stomach and then climbed on top of him, pulling both
his arms back. “What was that?” he hissed against the sensitive skin of Misha’s
scalp.

Misha could feel the sweat
already beading on his neck, and he hit his forehead against the pillow, hardly
able to breathe. Even though he knew it was pointless, he still struggled
against Grim’s force. This was exactly what Misha had expected. Grim had tried
to make himself look nice to coerce him into a sexual relationship, but now
that he’d failed, he’d just force himself on Misha, rape him, or worse. Though
considering the size of Grim’s cock, being fucked with it would be punishment
enough.

“Don’t! I’ll be good! I’m sorry!”
Misha whined even though pleading was the last thing he wanted to do. Shame
crept up his throat like bile. The only thing he was sorry for was that he
hadn’t been fast enough. Feeling Grim’s firm body on top of him was only a sour
reminder of how weak and useless he was. Even if he somehow managed to struggle
out of the deathly grip, with no legs Misha wouldn’t be able to flee.

Grim’s hand tightened on his
wrist. “Drop that thing,” he growled.

Misha let go of the fork, and it
rolled down the side of the bed, falling to the floor with a loud clatter of
finality. “Please don’t do this, we can work something out, I’m sure.” Misha’s
breath turned into wheezing, and he hated himself for the words coming out of
his mouth. What could he possibly “work out” with Grim? That he’d be his
private unpaid whore? Maybe it would really be better if he just died already?
“Fuck you! Fuck you,” he groaned, struggling against the body that might as
well have been made out of concrete.

“What is wrong with you?” asked
Grim in a low, rumbly voice before releasing Misha and rolling off the bed. It
left Misha confused and with muscles that yearned to struggle even though there
was nothing to budge against anymore.

The light went on, and Misha
instantly sat up. He grabbed the lamp from the nightstand and clenched the base
in his hands, even though it would most probably be a weapon as pathetic as the
fork had been. Grim frowned, but Misha didn’t waste time and threw the lamp at
him. It flew only a few inches before the cable that must have been connected
to the socket brought it down with a pathetic creak.

Big and glorious in his unashamed
nakedness as he walked up to the footboard of the bed and crossed his arms on
his massive chest, Grim stared at Misha. “What the fuck is this?”

Misha crawled away as far as he
could without leaving the bed. “I-I’m a person!” The last thing he needed was a
fucking stammer, but it was like the bratty cousin that never failed to tell
the whole world how afraid you were.

Grim laughed and spread his arms.
“Oh, you’re a person? What about me? Am I not a
person
that you decided
to off me in my sleep?”—He started pacing back and forth, like an exasperated
lion—“I saved you from that fucked-up place, and that’s how you choose to repay
me?”

Misha swallowed, but Grim’s
nakedness was making him wonder how a man so captivated by him could turn into
a beast in a matter of seconds. That was why he wanted to leave. He didn’t want
to stick around and wait for the violence that was sure to come. It always did.

“I just wanted to go …” Misha
curled his legs up in the hope they could distract Grim, but the man only
showed his teeth.

“Go? Go where? You told me you
have no documents ... or was that a lie too?”

A new flame of anger burned up in
Misha’s gut. “I don’t know where! Away from you and fucked-up sickos like you!
I didn’t ask for a life like this!”

“People like you should
understand others, shouldn’t they? You’ve been through so much, and now you
attack me, after
I
saved you from those perverts?” spat Grim, walking up
to the opposite wall and back.

Misha scowled, looking around for
a way out. “You didn’t
save
me. You didn’t take me to the police or put
me in a blanket with a fucking cup of coffee. You wanted to fuck me the moment
you saw me, and that’s the only reason you took me with you.”

Grim growled and punched the wall
repeatedly until a piece of plaster crumbled and fell to the floor. “You kissed
me!”

“I was scared! I didn’t know what
you would do if I said ‘no.’ I didn’t want you to strand me at that parking
lot.” Misha took a deep breath and grabbed the blanket because the trembling in
his fingers was freaking him out. “And now … I still don’t know what you will
do to me.” He swallowed, thinking of the power in Grim’s fists. He could smash
Misha’s face into pieces, dump him in the woods, and no one would ever know.
“But I’m so tired of living like this. I can’t do it anymore. You killed Gary,
but all you want is to keep me the way he did.”

“I am nothing like that piece of
shit,” hissed Grim and approached Misha with his whole body tense like a bull
ready to charge. “I would
never
hurt you or anyone else like you.”

Misha knocked the back of his
head against the wall. “Oh, really? You would help me out of the goodness of
your heart? Without a fuck to look forward to? You wouldn’t lock me up in a
basement claiming that it was all for my safety?”

Grim charged at him so quickly
Misha froze and let him climb on top. Grim’s eyes were like burning coals,
spitting sparks of fire left and right as he dug his fingers into the flesh of
Misha’s cheeks and shook him. “Who do you think you are that you think you can
play with my feelings like this?”

Misha pushed on Grim’s shoulders
in panic. “You don’t
like
me. You don’t really know me. So you know what
movies I like or that I wanted an Xbox? That means shit if you don’t even know
my real name! You don’t know how I was forced to live my life.” He took a deep
breath, but his eyes weren’t even glossing over. He’d lost his tears long ago.
He couldn’t remember ever speaking like that to Gary. Actually saying what he
thought and not being punished for it.

Grim hissed into Misha’s face.
“Your name? What’s your name?”

Misha squinted at him despite
finding it hard to breathe. “I’m not telling you.”

Grim’s eyes opened wider, then
his eyelids wrinkled, and his hand squeezed tighter on Misha’s jaw as he
watched Misha like a hawk, ready to strike. But he didn’t. Grim let go of Misha
and rolled off the bed, tense and heaving. “I rescued you. You owe me your
name.”

Misha swallowed, shocked he
didn’t get a slap for his impertinence. Drunk on the tiny win, he slowly sat
up. “We had sex. You’re not getting my name as well.”

Grim kicked the chair by the
dresser, showing his teeth like an agitated toddler. “I’ve earned it!”

“I’m not a toy you’ve pulled out
of a claw machine.” Misha pulled up the blanket, hyper-aware of Grim’s every
move and ready to dodge a punch if it came his way.

“Do you think I’m stupid? You’re
a person!”

“It’s not like I know
your
real name.”

Muscles danced at the sides of
Grim’s jaw. Clearly, he too wasn’t ready to introduce himself. “Fine,” he said
in the end. “But don’t say I don’t know you. I drink every word from your lips,
little bird.”

Misha never felt like a hottie.
He doubted any of the subscribers to his webcam movies chose him because of his
face or nice arms. They all wanted to see his stumps. He being young and okay-looking
was only a bonus.

“There’s more to me than you see
in the videos. I’m not just my stumps. I’m not just what I do with my boyfriend—”

Grim exploded and pushed a vase
off the small table by the window, his face dark. “He’s not your boyfriend!”

Misha curled up under the
blanket. “Because you killed him!”

Grim punched himself in the
chest. “I rescued you from that monster’s dirty, sleazy hands. He was locking
you up like an animal, and he never cared for you like I do! I’m happy his dick
is already becoming insect fodder and that he won’t ever touch you again!”

Misha took a deep breath, still
finding it hard to believe Gary wouldn’t be there to shield him from others
anymore. He still longed for it, even if the price for that protection had been
steep. “How are you any different? Because you’re younger and more handsome?”

A ghost of a smile passed through
Grim’s face at the comment. “I’m gonna treat you right. I will give you
everything you ever wanted. I have the means for it, and I have the respect of
my people,” said Grim with pride, stretching his neck. “You might be a broken
bird now, but I can be the one to fix your wings.”

Misha’s wings weren’t broken.
They were clipped and would never grow back. “Nothing can fix me.”

Grim slowly approached Misha, his
breathing steady again as he drilled his gaze into Misha’s face. “That’s
bullshit. You need someone who cares for you. I promise you will want for
nothing if you stay with me. I will carry you in my arms, and you will be happy
again.”

Misha would have laughed if it
weren’t so sad to hear. “All you really like about me is that I have no legs. I
know people like you.”

Grim’s face twisted into a snarl.
“People like me? You profited off us. You pretended you care what your viewers
thought. You even replied to my letter once,” barked Grim, starting to pace
again. “You are a liar. You even lied about your name, as it seems.”

Misha hugged the blanket around him
and swallowed. Truth was, he didn’t think all his subscribers were bad people.
It was the position he found himself in and not being able to tell anyone about
it that made his suffering even worse. He was shocked by the flood of emotions
that poured into his veins. “Your letter was nice,” he mumbled, and he knew
exactly which one it was, because he’d found it in the Xbox package. The sender
discussed a movie Misha reviewed two months back, and the envelope included
some postcards and stories from a prolonged visit to Nashville. It was a normal
letter without weird sexual content, different from the majority of comments he
received, which were mostly about his looks and the porn he did. “I never got a
penny for the vids. I was lucky if Gary got me my favorite pizza once a week.
Don’t you understand?” He looked up, hating that the emotions he’d been
shutting down for years were now pushing to the surface. He’d thought he was
over it all. What was the shame of being fucked on camera when he knew some
people had it so much worse? When
he used to
have it much worse. Less
than a day ago, giving sexual favors to only one person was a relief, yet now
he could hardly stomach the thought.