The doctor left an hour before with strict instructions to keep an eye on Cowen. The man had taken care of my own stitches and checked to make sure I didn't have any permanent damage. Cowen had made a call to the stranger minutes before he'd collapsed. I hadn't noticed he was bleeding until it was almost too late. I'd thought about what his so-called job entailed, but until he'd rescued me, I hadn't understood just how dangerous the persona was that Cowen kept beneath the surface.
He hadn't flinched when he killed one man after another, but what had scared me the most was he hadn't cared about what happened to his body. The rounds he'd taken to the vest hadn't slowed him down. The thrusts of knives and hits from all sides were brushed off as if he were just shooing away an annoying bug.
Could I stay with the knowledge one day he might not come home? He seemed uncaring about his safety while putting me above him. I didn't like it. I'd lost my mother, and I couldn't lose anyone else. Especially when that person had so quickly become my center—my weird comfort.
He started to thrash in his sleep, and I acted without thought. I ran my fingers through his sweaty hair. He didn't allow me to touch him often. He appeared to calm. It brought back too many memories of watching my mother waste away and how helpless I'd been to help her.
I checked the bottles of pills the doctor left. One he'd told me was for pain and another to help fight infection. The doctor hadn't offered to come back, and I figured the visit wasn't really legal. I snorted at the thought. Of course it wasn't legal, Cowen killed people for a living. He couldn’t really go to the hospital with impact bruises from multiple gunshots or the knife wound that had barely missed his liver.
“What if I just ran?” I asked myself as I straightened to go get bottles of water for him.
A surprisingly firm grip circled my wrist. “I'd prefer not to kill you.”
I let him pull me down to sit beside him on the bed. “Be still my heart, you're so romantic.”
“I never claimed to be.” His voice was weak and gruffer with pain.
It worried me. He was always so capable and untouchable. The sight of him in assassin mode had transfixed me. I had to admit for a brief moment I'd thought him bad-boy sexy.
“You are rather sexy when you're beating people up.”
I wanted to place my hands on his chest, face, somewhere but I didn't know where. If I hurt him, I wouldn't be able to handle it. Caring for him had made me forget about my own pain. I ached over every inch of my body. I could no longer open my left eye, not even to peek beneath the swollen lid. The doctor had checked me over after he'd examined Cowen. Bruised and banged up, but nothing appeared to be broken. I'd been the lucky one, and I needed to focus on him. The physical effects would fade soon enough.
“No one has ever said I was sexy before.”
“You're too scary for people to approach. I think I'm going to take advantage of you being off your game for a bit.”
“I never forget anything. I'll keep a tally of lashes.”
“Of course you will. I'm going to go grab you some water so you can take your pain pills.”
“Don't need—”
“Quit being tough.”
“I'm not. I don't feel pain like normal people.”
I frowned and realized I didn't know much about Cowen's past. We existed in the present.
“Why do you do all this?”
“I'm good at it.”
“Cowen, it has to be more than you being good at it. From what I can tell from your win rate, you're an amazing lawyer.”
“Assassins need backup plans.”
He didn't expand on what that meant. I wondered if he'd ever grow to trust me.
“I'm supposed to trust in you, so why won't you talk to me about your life?”
“Do you want to know that I killed my first psychiatrist when I found out he was going to commit me as a danger to society? Maybe when I made my parents disappear. They'd become frightened of me when I was no more than a toddler. I was…broken. I've never felt anything but the need to kill for as long as I can remember. And I remember everything.”
Those were the most words I'd ever heard him speak at one time. Even though he said he didn't feel pain, I could see the strain in his thin face. I figured anyone else would be screaming in agony from their wounds. He wasn't so I didn't push the meds, but I wanted him to keep talking even if I knew he needed his rest to get better.
“You want to keep me, though?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don't know. Solving problems is all I've ever enjoyed. You're an enigma. My fascination didn't wane after being in your company. You didn't bore me.”
“I guess that's good.”
He wasn't a sweet talker, and I didn't hold my breath waiting for him to confess some undying love. I doubted I would ever hear him say it—even if he felt it. Emotion was an abstract concept to him. While locked in the basement and spending time with him, I realized he spent time analyzing everything, every word or action needed to be broken down to a molecular level—even me.
“When you became a witness, I couldn't kill you. Taking lives is simple for me. I was going to play with you. Test my hypotheses on why you were different. As I watched you, the more days to pass, I became unwilling to let you go.”
“While I'm happy to be alive and that you changed your mind, what happens when you're no longer fascinated with me? Do you still plan to kill me?”
“You're the only person I stopped wanting to kill. I will keep you. Never run from me. There's nowhere you could hide.”
I didn't know why that made me smile, but I figured that's as close as he was going to get to admitting he cared for me.
“I need you to be honest with me. Don't hide. This thing between us isn't normal.”
“It's all I have to offer.”
“All I need is your honesty.”
“I've killed hundreds of people. Barely tolerate the human species, but I can't imagine not having you.”
That's romantic in a twisted way. I leaned down until my mouth hovered over his. “May I have a kiss?” My busted ribs screamed with pain, and I barely held myself up when my body threatened to collapse.
“Your lips are busted.” His slender hand stroked over my bearded cheek, and his thumb skimmed the cuts on my lips.
“Then be gentle.”
“I don't know how.”
I didn't think that was true. He'd shown me how tender he could be when he cared for me after my lessons and he bathed me. He knew who he was, but his perception of himself was skewed by living in his head. Unlike me, I'd seen glimpses of a different man. Yes, he had his sadistic moments. His infliction of pain more comfortable than giving pleasure. Although all the times we'd had sex, he'd never left me wanting, except when orgasm denial was used as discipline.
“I can show you.” I barely pressed my lips to his, but I didn't linger. “I'm going to take a shower, and then I'm going to give you a sponge bath. You're a bit of a mess.”
“Do you find me…attractive?”
Did I? The angles of his face were too harsh. His body was littered with scars and missing flesh. But I loved how the smaller man made me feel when he wanted me.
“Others have found me disgusting.”
“You're not disgusting. Scars just showed you survived. Get some sleep…I'll be back soon.”
He nodded and closed his eyes, but I knew he wouldn't sleep. In all the time I'd spent with him since he'd moved me upstairs, I hadn't noticed him sleep more than a few hours. I eased up off the bed. I felt grimy after days of not bathing and the dried blood on my skin. A long, hot shower would do my aching muscles good. Then I could tend to him, bathe him and change the bloody sheets. First, I needed to take care of myself.
I was exhausted; six days of worry pushed me closer to the edge of collapse. My poor man kept spiking a fever, and I'd have to cool him down. Getting him to take the pills the doctor left was a fight I barely won. I'd found it nearly impossible to keep the man in bed.
His stitches hadn't survived his stubbornness. I'd found butterfly bandages in his first-aid kit and made do with those. Finally, the skin was knitted back together and left a thick, ridge of irritated scar tissue. He was absolutely the worst patient. I pushed his sweaty hair back from his forehead and stretched out beside him. I was too tired to sleep, but I'd discovered I loved watching him. Guilt plagued me as I took advantage of his weakened state. I spread my right hand over his smooth pectorals and reveled in the softness of his skin. His body was so different from my hairier one.
I traced every scar I could reach, even the deep valleys that he'd explained were from an explosion a former boss had used to take him out. He talked about someone trying to murder him as if the man had simply tried to fire him. I shook my head as the sheet across his hips started to jerk as his cock responded to my touch.
“You're not up to it.”
“Boy, you're not in charge here.”
“Y—yes, sir.” My pulse increased as he slapped my bare hip and the sting sent chills over my body. He shifted on the bed, and seconds later he placed our lube in my hand.
“Suck me while you stretch yourself.”
Resistance didn't cross my mind as he threw the sheet from his body. Too many days had passed since I'd felt sir inside me. I was helpless when he used that dominating, guttural voice. I knelt between his legs, slicked my fingers, and quickly swallowed his dick, choking on it in my haste. While I sucked every thick inch to the back of my throat, I started to work my fingers into my hole. I shivered at the burning pressure.
“My boy got greedy.”
I whined in answer as my jaw quickly started to ache trying to take the girth. The wet, suckling sounds filled my ears joining the rhythmic rushing of blood. Spit ran from the corners of my lips. I gave it to him rough and sloppy just like I knew he liked. When I gagged around the fat head, he urged me on with a deep gravely rumble.
“Fuck, boy.” He growled and grabbed the back of my head forcing my face into his groin.
I couldn't breathe or move. At his roughness, the muscles of my ass clenched around the three fingers I was shoving brutally past the resistance. He finally gave me a reprieve. He jerked me off his cock, and I tried to take him back into my mouth, but his hold on my hair kept me restrained.
“Open your fucking mouth and stick out your tongue.”
I did as he ordered without question, and he laid his cockhead on my tongue and stroked in savage strokes.
“I should punish you for what you do to me.”
I yelped as he released his dick and he smacked my cheek once, twice and a third time until the side of my face was on fire. He shoved my face against his balls. The scent of him strong and I tried to nuzzle closer to his smooth sac. I should protest, fight him, but my cock only got harder at his feral actions.
Quickly he shoved me away, and I stared at him, thinking he was done playing with me.
“Present your ass for me.”
I was shaking with nerves. I'd seen him in a lot of moods, but something was different. I rolled over, rested my cheek on the bed and opened my cheeks to show him my hole. Seconds drew out, but I didn't move, and then a scream tore out of my throat as he shoved the firm dildo that he'd bought me inside without warning. I dropped my hands to the bed and fisted them in the sheet. I cried and tried to relax as he used the toy on me, brutally without care.
The erection I had fled quickly and then the toy was gone, and the heat of his thick, long dick was sliding in with absolute care. He deeply groaned. A sigh slipped between my lips as his hips met my hairy ass. He spread his hands across my lower back. The gentleness in comparison to the ferocity of minutes before shocked my system and tears leaked from under my lashes.
It was different—he loved on my ass in long strokes. My dick was hard again and the wet tip laid on the curve of my belly.
“Boy.”
I whimpered as he changed angles and aimed for my gland, I didn't know what to do. How to react, his loving was always rough. I buried my face in the mattress as his calloused hand encircled my cock and jacked me in a pace that matched his hips.
“Does my boy like it when I'm gentle or—” He slammed forward, and I grunted.
He retreated in a slow, smooth movement, then slammed forward. It was an agonizing sensation to be empty. I was made to be full of him.
“I'm going to cum, sir.”
“Not until I say you do. Do I own you?”
“Yes, sir. Always.”
“I own your pleasure. You don't cum without my permission. You were fucking made for me.”
The intensity of his possession built from loving to the brutal fucking I loved. I lifted my ass higher. My cock repeatedly slapped on my belly. His dirty talk embarrassed me even as he was balls deep.
“My shy boy knows how to take my cock. Show me, boy.”
I didn't hesitate as I rocked my hips at a frantic speed as I measured his cock. Our bodies were slamming together. He spanked my hips as I took his cock until my flesh burned with the abuse. Agony and ecstasy coalesced until my release ripped through my balls and seed covered my belly. I yelled as he was gone and I turned to find him staring at me, his gaze cold.
“I'm sorry, sir, I didn't—”
He was positioned in front of me, and he held my chin in a hard grip.
“You didn't listen. Therefore, you don't earn my cum in your ass.”
I cried at his disappointment as he held his cock in front of my face, stroking it as he stared at me with anger. I didn't have time to react before his cum covered my face. Everything inside me froze as he removed his touch and presence and I heard the bathroom door close. I knelt in the middle of the bed, staring at the dark stained wood and waited.
It seemed like forever until I heard the shower stop and he opened the door. The water still running in the bathroom. He was naked with his dark hair slicked back from his face.
“I'm sorry.”
“When I tell you to do something, boy, you listen. This isn't just about your pleasure. You trust me to know how to keep you happy and safe.”
He gently cleaned my face, watching me, and I noticed his face looked softer. His body wasn’t tense as if on guard.
“Yes, sir.”
“I don't want to lose you.”
Before I could answer, he kissed me, then helped me off the bed. He led me to the bathroom where he was filling the tub. I let him take care of me. I barely kept my eyes open as he washed and tended to me. Cleaning my ass with soft strokes inside and out. I enjoyed the dichotomy of his viciousness and tenderness, and he always made sure that I was given everything I needed.