Page 10 of Ravaged Devotion

Not anymore.

Maybe not ever.

His hands balled into fists and he did the same song and dance he’d been doing at least once a month since he’d threatened Rue to return to planet.

He fought himself.

The struggle was real.

The ending was inevitable.

Even knowing that, even knowing he wouldn’t win against the burning desire coursing through his veins, Ryker tried to resist.

He’d give in, and come morning, he’d hate himself a little more. That hatred would feed his anger, and he’d become a worse person for it. A more deadly and dangerous person. It was to the point even his best friend, Illya, had warned him he was too close to the edge. Reminded him that his father’s tolerance only went so far. That he’d only cover for Ryker for so long.

He smirked to himself, wondering what dear old dad would think about what he was about to do.

What he’d been doing for the past five months.

Ryker lost the war with himself, hand undoing his fly, palm reaching past the material of his boxers to grip his hard length. A moan slipped past his lips as he rocked his hips, jerking himself off to the sight of his new little brother.

Better known as the man he’d once been in love with.

And who had ruined Ryker’s life.

Another wave of fury washed through him and he released himself and rounded the bed, practically tearing the covers off the sleeping form, only to pause again as soon as his eyes caught sight of him.

Rue was naked.

Naked and lying on his stomach, thighs partially parted already, almost as if…

No.

There was no way he knew what’d been happening to him, otherwise he would have brought it up. Rue was quiet and could no longer maintain eye contact with Ryker for longer than thirty seconds, but the fire that used to guide him was still there, dwelling beneath the cowed looks and the caved in shoulders.

An act.

Ryker knew better than anyone that this man was an actor.

Whispering romantic confessions in his ear one night.

Abandoning him the next.

He climbed onto the bed and situated himself between Rue’s thighs, adjusting the smaller man to his liking. Using his knees, he spread the sleeping man’s thighs wider, so he caught a better view of his hole and his heavy sack.

Ryker spit in his palm then returned his hand to his cock, stroking himself as he stared at that forbidden place, picturing what it would feel like to bury himself deep in Rue’s ass and pound him viciously into the mattress. If he fucked him hard enough, brutal enough, would it override the medication and wake Rue after all?

The sleeping pills he took nightly were strong. He never so much as stirred. In the beginning, the first couple of times they’d done this dance, Ryker had been a bit disappointed when Rue had remained unconscious. But now he got a kick out of it.

Aside from his knees pressed to Rue’s inner thighs, he didn’t touch him. He could. Had thought of it, more than once, but that was always part of the war within himself he could actually win. The fantasy was enough. The knowing that no one could stop him. That Rue couldn’t prevent him from sneaking in here at the end of each month.

That Rue believed that he came in his sleep every time Ryker and him were under the same roof…

“Does it bother you?” he wondered aloud, hand working himself with more fervor. “Do you dream of me, little brother?” Ryker sneered the title, both disgusted and a bit more turned on by it all at the same time.

Maybe it was because of his blatant daddy issues.

The Hart estate held several buildings, with the main house large enough every creak of a floorboard echoed. Their parents slept in a completely different wing, and rarely visited this part of the home, even when they’d been younger, preferring to send servants to retrieve them for meals and family meetings.