His Favorite Color is Blood - Coffin Nails MC (gay biker dark romance) (Sex & Mayhem Book 8) (28 page)

“I can’t do this without you.”
Misha curled his legs over Grim’s hips, desperate to hold him close. When
Grim’s firm body settled between him and the world, everything seemed brighter.

Grim ground his hips between
Misha’s thighs, pushing his hands underneath Misha’s back and holding him close
as they kissed. Grim was always so warm, as if his body produced two times more
heat than Misha’s, and it was yet another thing that set Misha’s skin ablaze,
even with their clothes still on.

“I know, but it’s gonna be all
right. We’re immortal,” whispered Grim.

And with Grim on top of him, it
was exactly how Misha felt. Nothing could reach for him, and even the hooks
Zero kept pushing into him were nonexistent, if for just a moment. He ached for
Grim so badly as if the last time they’d had sex was in a different dimension,
and another opportunity might never come.

Grim bit into the flesh of
Misha’s cheek, then the edge of his jaw, and his neck. His appetite seemed
insatiable, and none of them cared about the man locked in the trunk. The sound
of a zipper opening had Misha looking down, but with Grim’s shoulder blocking
the view, there wasn’t much for him to see. Grim took hold of his hand and
pulled it lower until Misha’s fingers brushed against velvety soft skin.

Misha sucked in his bottom lip as
he curled his fingers over the thick girth of Grim’s cock. Already stiff as a
steel bar, it made Misha remember every single time they’d had sex. From the
mutual masturbation to the blowjobs to the fucking that left him aware of
Grim’s size for days. He wouldn’t dare to mention it to Grim, but even that
first time they were together, the night Grim saved him, wasn’t a regret. The
lines of their relationship had been blurry back then, and Misha didn’t care to
try to squint to see them better.

He arched up, greedy for another
kiss, as he stroked Grim’s dick, lost in the moment and wanting to open his
pants as well.

Grim hummed into his mouth and
bucked his hips, pushing his dry cock through Misha’s fist. He moved his strong
fingers to Misha’s face and hair, stroking and tickling him everywhere he could
reach as they shared breathless, trembling kisses, completely isolated from the
realities of the outside world.

Misha needed to see more of Grim,
to feel more of him, to have his weight on top, and not be able to breathe
anymore. Fucking was out of the question since it required too much prep, and
they didn’t have time for that nor did Misha want to wait. He needed Grim now.
Needed to gorge on him until neither of them could move.

Just when Misha got desperate
enough to voice his plea, Grim’s mouth spread into a smile, and his white teeth
gleamed in the moonlight. “Flip over, birdie.”

Misha gave Grim a quick kiss.
“I’m not sure … I mean, you know, it’s a bit big,” he said but was already
turning over under Grim. His whole body was hot, his cheeks burned, and his
dick throbbed. This was exactly what he craved.

His mouth fell open when he felt
Grim’s nose at the small of his back, and then the waistband of his shorts
stretched over his hips when Grim pulled on them with his teeth, while both his
hands were on Misha’s upper back, kneading the muscle. “I’m not after your ass
now.”

“No?” Misha pushed himself up on
his elbows and glanced over his shoulder, uncaring about the hair getting into
his face. “I need you.”

Grim smiled and lapped at the
side of Misha’s buttock, which was now uncovered after both the shorts and
underwear had been pulled below his ass. “I need you too. I’ve been waiting for
this for days now. Just wanna be close to you.”

“I’m sorry. That video left me so
off.” Misha clenched his ass, watching the fat cockhead of Grim’s dick,
completely hypnotized by its strong beauty. If Misha never saw another cock in
his life, he wouldn’t mind.

Grim nipped on the flesh of
Misha’s ass and nuzzled it impatiently. “You ready?” he asked, pulling Misha’s
clothes down all the way to his knees before climbing on top of him.

Misha quickly nodded. His cock
throbbed between the seat and his stomach. He was more than ready to feel Grim
all over. “Yes.”

Grim laughed and stroked Misha’s
thighs. “Squeeze them for me. I’m gonna fuck you so hard,” he said as if it was
the sweetest of promises.

It finally hit Misha what it was
that Grim wanted to do, and he couldn’t have been more eager to pull his thighs
together. He even arched his ass higher, just to tease Grim. He’d get to feel
Grim’s cock push in and out without the effort they’d have to put in if they
wanted to go all the way.

Misha’s breath sped up, and he
pushed his forehead against the seat, excited beyond words even as he sensed
the faint scent of cleaning products someone must have used on the upholstery.
He could hear the rustle of plastic behind him and looked back in time to see
Grim squeeze the contents of a lube packet on top of his cock. The clear gel
dribbled down the impressive length, and Grim spread it all over the hard dick
with a few pumps of his fist. He groaned, locking his eyes with Misha. “I’ll
cover you so thoroughly everyone will be able to smell me on you,” he
whispered, leaning forward and pushing his knees against the sides of Misha’s
legs.

The moment the slippery cockhead
pushed into the crevice in Misha’s thighs, just under his ass, all the hairs on
his body bristled, and he went breathless. “I’d have you brand me if that’s
what it took to be yours.”

Grim’s mouth opened, and he gave
a trembling moan, slowly pushing that enormous tool between Misha’s thighs. “If
you’re mine, treat me with respect, birdie. Show me with your actions, not with
words. No more slapping,” he uttered, biting into the flesh of Misha’s nape as
he sank deeper.

Misha squeezed his thighs
together, all hot and bothered from feeling that throbbing cock between his
legs. “No more slapping,” he said eagerly, so embarrassed that he’d done that
to the person he loved.

Grim held him down as his cock
pushed its way between Misha’s legs. It was coming closer to Misha’s balls, and
his skin sang, begged for Grim to touch them. Grim’s body hair tickled his
skin, and when those heavy balls rested against Misha’s skin, he couldn’t help
but shudder, tightening his thighs around the pulsing hot rod that spread the
slick lube in between.

“That’s what I want to hear.
You’re mine.”

Misha reached out for Grim’s hand
and pulled it under his T-shirt, to his own chest, eager to be petted. “Are
you
mine?” he whispered, his whole body tingling with excitement over
Grim’s possessiveness.

Grim’s breath danced against
Misha’s skin as he drew back his hips, dragging his cock in the tight space
Misha created for him. “I’m yours, too, birdie. Don’t you know that yet?”

Misha could fly on the wings of
that declaration. “Fuck me faster,” he mumbled in answer, excited that he could
feel every single movement of Grim’s cock. With Grim’s weight on top, it didn’t
matter that his cock wasn’t
inside
of Misha. They were together, and
Grim wouldn’t have to hold back. There would be no pain if things got too
rough.

Grim rasped Misha’s name and
grabbed him by the shoulders, pushing into the crevice hard, until the cockhead
touched against the sensitive flesh behind Misha’s balls. It felt so good that
for a moment Misha believed an invisible hand caressed his scrotum, but all
became clear when Grim thrust forward again, completely letting himself go.

Misha panted, already knowing
this kind of fucking would become a staple in their relationship. Grim could
fuck him hard and fast with no holds barred, and Misha enjoyed the sense of
urgency this produced. If he could only jerk off in the meanwhile, things would
have been even better, but the pressure around his dick was getting to him
anyway. He wiggled his calves, trying to touch Grim with his stumps, push him
even farther into the lusty frenzy.

Grim’s cock twitched, and he
slammed it even harder between Misha’s thighs, making them both numb and oddly
hypersensitive with the pressure. “You’re so tight for me, babe. I want to come
in you so bad,” he whispered, rasping his teeth over Misha’s back as he thrust
hard, pushing his balls against Misha’s flesh, as if he wanted them to follow
the cock inside the tight space.

Misha stirred under him,
impatient as his own arousal was rushed by Grim’s intense scent. He reached
back and pulled his buttock to the side, hardly able to form a coherent
sentence when he spoke. He wanted to be covered in Grim’s cum, to feel Grim all
over. “Come on my ass.”

Grim let out a low gasp and
fucked Misha at a furious pace, fighting for air as he pushed against Misha’s
taint over and over, making it radiate intense pleasure that curled around
Misha’s cock. But then he pulled out, leaving Misha’s thighs oddly empty.
“Hands and knees,” uttered Grim breathlessly, and the sound of his hand moving
up and down his dick sent Misha’s mind into a frenzy.

He pushed himself up in an
instant, and the slight ache in his palms and knees wouldn’t stop any of the
lust streaming through his body. He loved how completely free he could be with
Grim, certain that his lover would never hurt him. Not knowing what would
happen wasn’t frightening anymore but an adventure.

Grim grabbed his buttock and
spread Misha’s ass with his fingers. He leaned closer, and Misha yelped when
the massive cockhead nudged his entrance.

“Open up,” Grim uttered, “Relax.”

It was hard to relax when Misha’s
whole body was one big tangle of arousal and excitement. His anus kept
clenching every time he thought of Grim’s cock, not because he feared that Grim
wanted to push inside after all, but because his body knew how it would feel.
It was almost as if he could already squeeze that thick prick inside of him,
waiting for it with his thighs slippery and his cock dripping precum.

But Grim just kept his dick at
the hole and jerked off furiously, hitting his fist against Misha’s ass over
and over, until Grim howled and bumped his head against the roof as cum shot
inside Misha’s anus.

Misha bit his lips and closed his
eyes, enjoying Grim’s orgasm despite still being a throbbing mess himself. The
head of Grim’s dick slid away from Misha’s hole, but that insistent cock
pressed against it with its underside as Grim’s shuddering body curled over
Misha’s. And there it was, that strong hand caressing the slick insides of
Misha’s thighs and finally squeezing around Misha’s cock.

“Come for me, birdie. Come all
over the seat ...”

A breathless “yes” escaped
Misha’s lips, and with Grim’s thick fingers coated in lube and jerking him off
at a frantic pace, Misha came in a matter of seconds, grinding his ass into
Grim’s stomach. He loved the firm grip Grim had on his cock when he jerked him
off. Like he knew exactly what he was doing.

“That’s it, just ride my hand,“
whispered Grim and licked the whole length of Misha’s sweaty cheek. His fist
tightened around Misha’s cock.

“So good. You’re so good to me,”
Misha whispered as he thrust the last few times, adding his own cum to the lube
on Grim’s fingers. His heartbeat was erratic, and he wouldn’t have it any other
way.

Before his brain could register
what was going on, Grim flipped him over and laid his heavy, warm body on top
of Misha’s, cuddling up to him and pulling Misha’s stump higher so that it
would rest on Grim’s thigh. He pressed fervent kisses all over Misha’s face and
hugged him, crowding him on the narrow seat.

Misha hugged Grim tight and
rubbed his stump over the sweaty back of Grim’s thigh. He hadn’t even realized how
much he needed this release. He’d give Grim anything he might want.

“You liked it,” said Grim with a
laugh to his voice.

“Hell yes, I liked it.” Misha
gave Grim a dreamy smile. “I love how heavy your body feels on me. I love to
feel every thrust of your cock.”

Grim smiled and pressed his lips
against Misha’s forehead, looking out the window at the sky above.

“You did too, right?” Misha knew
it was needy to ask, but he still craved a confirmation.

“Yeah. I really like fucking like
this. It’s so stress-free.”

Misha slipped his hands under
Grim’s T-shirt on his back and wrote his name in Cyrillic script all over the
damp skin.

Grim smiled and petted Misha’s
hair slowly, focused on something on Misha’s face.

“What?” Misha blew a strand of
hair away. “Am I dirty?”

“No,” Grim said, his face
serious. “I just thought that you’re gonna be hurt if you kill that scum. I’d
rather that I’m hurt. I’m gonna kill him for you, birdie. Don’t be afraid.”

Misha’s heart began thudding
again, and as much as he wanted to tell Grim that he was fine, that he could go
through with it, all he had in him were eyes glossing over and “Thank you …”

Grim kissed him and curled up
closer.

 

Chapter 23 – Grim

 

Grim smeared his face with streaks
of dark mud. After he kneeled in front of one of their car’s side mirrors, his
features gradually disappeared, muted by the thick layer of brown paste that he
massaged all the way past his collarbones. Misha was behind him, covering his
back and sides with irregular strokes that spread the mud over skin to hide any
potentially identifying scars. With Tomas already hung down from a rusty
balcony in the second floor of the old house, there were moans and pleas
disturbing Grim’s peace, but he didn’t mind. It made him queasy to document a
kill on camera, and so he needed any incentive he could get, including
annoyance with his soon-to-be victim.

And worst of all, Misha had to at
least feature in the video as well. If everything went according to plan,
they’d destroy the short movie later, but Grim preferred not to take chances.
He glanced at his lover in the mirror.

Misha still had a healthy flush
to his cheeks, but it was getting paler by the minute. Misha was a survivor. He
would probably be able to go through with the kill if he needed to, but if Grim
could spare him one more trauma, and leave at least a part of Misha whole, he’d
do so.

“Just be in the picture once you
start the recording, okay?” asked Grim and picked up more mud before turning
toward Misha and smearing it over his smooth cheek.

Misha winced but didn’t say a
thing. Grim didn’t want Misha to desensitize to these kinds of scenes. He loved
the vulnerability still left in him, even after all that he’d been through, and
he’d be sad to see it gone.

Grim took his time, ignoring the
pleas for mercy as he covered Misha with mud and then adjusted the blanket in
Misha’s lap. They took Tomas’s shoes and put them on the footrests of Misha’s
wheelchair so he wouldn’t be immediately identifiable as an amputee in the
video. Once Grim was finished, he took a black scarf from his bag and tied it
on Misha’s head like a bandana, covering his longish hair. Even in the worst-case
scenario of Grim being recognized, Misha couldn’t be. He would not survive
another kind of prison.

As he squeezed Misha’s hand, his
gaze trailed to the pudgy figure of Tomas, which swung three feet over the
ground like an enormous pendulum.

Misha’s eyes were wide, but he
was calm when he put the camera on a low, partially crumbled wall and wheeled
closer to Grim once the red light went on. It was showtime, and Grim wasn’t
happy about that at all. Killings were usually intimate affairs between him and
his victim. He thought of himself as a nocturnal predator, hunting his prey
down until it was caught in his trap where it could be consumed in the dark.
Yet he was now stuck in front of the bright lights from the car.

Tomas’s eyes opened wide as Grim
approached with all his knives strapped in visible places on top of his
clothes. If Grim were to give Zero a show, so be it.

His eyes wandered to the man’s
useless, thin legs that were now partially uncovered after Tomas’s sweatpants had
been pulled to his knees by gravity. Nausea was settling in Grim’s throat as he
stepped closer, knowing he would break one of his fundamental rules the moment
he put the knife against Tomas’s skin. Of course, he could have searched for
another victim, but they were low on time, and that fucker was no innocent
himself.

Grim punched his stomach.

Tomas uttered a broken moan, and
another stream of tears streaked down his cheeks, spilling over short stubble.
Grim just needed to forget how different Tomas was from his usual catch, and it
would all be fine. The flabby flesh around Tomas’s midsection was no different
from Gary’s, and while Tomas suffered because of his own disability, the
experience didn’t make him any more compassionate toward the children he targeted.

“Please, I can get you money out
of my accounts! Just let me go …” he cried, trying to uselessly wiggle in the
air.

Grim kept silent, not wanting his
voice on tape, but he leaned down and looked straight into Tomas’s eyes,
pulling on the hair on top of the man’s head. Tomas had two choices now: accept
his fate and give himself time to make peace with whatever he believed in or
struggle until his death, which would end up with him hurting much more than if
he’d just let Grim do his job in peace. Grim knew the drill better than anyone.
His eyes briefly trailed back to Misha, but the red dot of the camera
distracted him from that sweet, mud-covered face.

They weren’t completely true to
Zero’s demands, as he wanted their faces uncovered, but he had said nothing
about “makeup.” Grim and Misha were like that girl from an old fairytale, who
came to see a prince both naked and clothed when she covered herself with a
fisherman’s net. With the flare Zero had for spectacle, Grim suspected the
bastard would appreciate their creative approach on some level.

Tomas, on the other hand, did
not. He had to be gagged after he got an up-close look at Grim’s serrated
blade. Once Grim drew first blood, once Tomas’s flesh opened up to him,
everything became much easier. All the issues that had held Grim back
dissolved, replaced by the rush of adrenaline, the dark excitement, and the
flood of red.

He made even, beautiful cuts all
along Tomas’s torso, opening him up like a fish for grilling. He was completely
focused, lost in the world where red blood stuck to his forearms, and its
coppery scent gave him a high like nothing else in the world could. Tomas was
in agony, but once his body got tired of the struggle and he spaced out, Grim
criss-crossed his blades against his throat and then opened up his blood
vessels to bleed him like the pig he was.

Only a gasp from behind reminded
Grim that Misha was here with him, at the edge of the world between light and
shadow, his face expressionless as he watched the blood drip down Tomas’s face and
form a puddle on the ground.

Grim relaxed once he saw the
camera was off. Misha slowly put it into the bag strapped to his seat. “Misha?”

“Yes?” Those big attentive eyes
came back to Grim, and they didn’t hold even a shadow of judgment or disgust.

Grim swiped the bloodied knives
against his pants and put them back in the sheaths, slowly picking himself up.
“You okay, birdie?”

“Yes. I focused on what he did.
When I see you do what you do, I see the faces of everyone who hurt me in the
eyes of the person you kill. It makes me feel good. I don’t know what that says
about me.” Misha reached out and squeezed Grim’s hand.

Grim couldn’t help a smirk
spreading on his face as he kneeled and nudged Misha’s cheek with his crusty
nose. “You’re killing them by proxy.”

“I’ve seen so much sick shit in
the world that I can’t find even a hint of compassion for the type of scum that
is out there. Those who have no mercy for others don’t deserve to get it when
it’s their turn to suffer.” Misha entwined his fingers with Grim’s gloved ones,
marking his own hands with Tomas’s blood. The sight was more of a turn-on than
Grim would have expected, but with the pleasant afterglow of the wild sex they
had only an hour ago, he was still satisfied.

“I wish I could do this to every
single man who hurt you. Maybe I can make Zero reveal their names.”

“If Zero stops being a threat, I
could dig into their system, and I bet I’d find at least a few. Fucking
bastards. Paying to fuck a kid with no legs, like I was some freak show.”
Misha’s frown deepened.

Grim snickered and gave Misha a
kiss through both their mud masks, slowly sinking into the welcoming arms. He
could never just rest after a kill like this, so having someone hug him through
the latent high felt amazing. Even if Misha couldn’t be his sniper buddy, he
could definitely offer Grim that.

Once Grim melted into the hug,
even Misha’s legs joined in, as Misha curled around Grim. It was a safe cocoon
of affection Grim had never received in this magnitude.

“Does the blood feel good on you?”
whispered Grim.

Misha looked to his own hand.
“Yes, because it’s his blood. It’s like I get to hold his life.”

Molten heat spread over Grim’s
chest, and he petted the red-stained fingers. “You understand me so well.”

“Because you’re mine.” Misha smiled,
never taking his eyes off their entwined hands. “I pay attention to my
property.”

Grim stared at him, lost for
words. He knew Misha shouldn’t have said this, but it was still a turn-on.
“Just don’t repeat that in front of the guys, birdie.”

Misha wanted to kiss him, but
then the muddy layer on their faces got in the way, and he settled on rubbing
his cheek against Grim’s. “I won’t. It’s for your ears only.”

Grim kissed Misha’s knuckles and
slowly rose to his feet. “It’s time to let him know. Then, we can get rid of
that pig and go home.”

“Home …” Misha repeated quietly
and nodded.

Grim still held on to his hand as
he pulled off one glove with his teeth and begrudgingly chose Zero’s number,
switching to loudspeaker as they listened to the signal that filled the eerie
silence. Grim’s stomach clenched with discomfort. He knew he shouldn’t be
stressed before talking to the bastard. He should be ready for a hunt not
having this odd flight reaction, but interacting with Zero was somehow far
worse than most of the things he’d had to deal with throughout his career.

Misha squeezed Grim’s hand
tighter when Zero picked up the phone. “Decent timing. Not even a week.” His
voice was low and distorted, which meant he was using some kind of device to
make himself unrecognizable.

Grim took a deep breath and sat
on the low wall where they earlier placed the camera. “We have the film for
you. Where should I send it to?” Both a physical address and an online storage
site could give them clues about Zero’s whereabouts.

“No need for that. I want to see
my lovely Misha in person one last time. And then there’s Denny … A meeting in
person would be appropriate.”

A cold shiver went down Grim’s
back, and he looked at Misha, who went tense and wide-eyed like a bunny caught
in a trap.

Grim clenched his teeth. “Is that
absolutely necessary? Misha isn’t feeling well these days.” He knew he was
milking it, but what was he to say?

Zero laughed. “Are you not taking
care of him?”

“Fuck you!” Misha hissed.

“There’s my little genius.”

Grim shook his head at Misha,
already regretting that he used the speakerphone. “No, but he’s got ... the
flu.”

“I don’t mind some germs. We’ve
already exchanged fluids a long time ago.” Zero’s laugh made Grim want to throw
the phone into the puddle of blood under Tomas’s corpse. “After all, you do
want to see Dennis, right?”

“We’ll come,” Misha hissed.

Grim squeezed his hand and stared
at the throat that he opened not that long ago. With Zero, he wouldn’t be done
as quickly. “Fine. Where and when?”

“I will call you in the next few
days, and you need to be ready within an hour. I can’t risk you preparing for
our little
tête-à-tête
.”

“That’s all right,” said Grim,
and he found that keeping his voice neutral required more effort than usual. “I
trust you’ll keep to your end of the bargain,” he lied.

“See you soon, Misha,” Zero said
and disconnected.

Misha grabbed one of Grim’s
knives and wheeled over to Tomas’s still warm body. He started stabbing the
exposed organs and swearing in Russian as blood dribbled all over.

Grim stared at his phone but
eventually deposited it in his pocket and approached Misha, unsure how to
start. “What are you saying?” he asked in the end.

Misha heaved but finally left the
knife in Tomas’s heart. “I’m saying he’s a fucking-cunt-son-of-a-bitch-shit-eating
goat fucker!”

“That doesn’t even begin to cover
what he is,” said Grim quietly.

“I’ll meet him. I’ll show him I’m
not afraid of him.” Misha took a shaky breath and looked away, his arms
sagging.

Grim touched Misha’s shoulder,
prepared to step back if Misha chose to strike him with the knife. “You sure?”

Misha nodded. “Yes. I’m sick of
him being my Boogeyman.”

Grim swallowed hard and crouched
down to look Misha directly in the eyes. His heart thudded. “So be it. It’s
your choice.”

Misha grabbed Grim’s wrist. “If
we meet him, we can try to think of a way to get him.”

“I will kill him,” said Grim with
a small nod. There was no doubt about it in him whatsoever.

Misha looked into his eyes with
determination. “He’s only human.”

Grim smiled. “Precisely.”

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