Page 240 of Outlaws of Tulsa

“Do you need a safeword?”

Seems pretty stupid, but I’m the epitome of unsafe, so it might make him more comfortable.

“Youneed a safeword.”

At this, I laugh. “A fucking jokester is what you are.”

“I’m serious,” Cove growls. “Give me a safeword.”

“I could just rip you off of me. I outweigh you and can out-bench you.”

“Wow,” he deadpans. “You really know how to flatter a guy right into bed with those poetic words.”

He pulls away and strips the rest of the way out of his clothes. I watch him without shame, cataloguing every bruise and mark my rough hands and mouth have put on him in the last twenty-four hours.

“You need a safeword,” Cove continues, “for when I’m being a dick and it sends you to whatever dark place you just went to.” He chews on his bottom lip. “It reminded me of when…”

When Night Giant would command me to heel and obey like a good boy. I cringe at the thought of how easily that motherfucker can get right inside my mind. I want to murder him, but he says the right words to turn me into a terrified teenage boy he brutally raped and controlled for years.

“Batman.” I smirk at him. “That’s my safeword.”

“Of course it is. Mine will be Robin.”

It’s stupid because I’m not the type of guy who would ever want to use a safeword, but somehow, having it, makes me feel powerful. Impenetrable. Untouchable. In control.

“Time to fuck, Baby Prospect.”

Cove

He’s arrogant and assumes I’ll do his bidding whenever he wants. But because he melts me with a simple hot stare, I find myself obeying this man. Over and over again. He’s a puppet master holding my strings. I perform for him like it’s my fucking job.

I hate that I do.

But I also love that he makes me.

This thing between us is probably toxic as fuck. I’m going to need hella therapy after this—whenever this thing ends.

It will end.

All good things come to an end.

This is a very bad thing, though. Does that mean it’ll last forever?

Dragon captures my lips with a fiery kiss that has me clawing at his shoulders, trying to pull him closer. We tumble into bed, his massive, muscular body crushing me to the mattress. I moan between kisses and quickly turn to pleading as his lips leave mine to tease along my jaw and to my neck.

His obsession with leaving marks on my neck is annoying.

And yet…I don’t use my safeword.

It feels too good. Too perfect. Too real.

Days ago, I was pining over Nick and the shitty crumbs he offered me. With Dragon, it’s no comparison. Everything is so intense and over the top. Like it’s not enough and too much all atonce. I’m maddened more and more each second we spend alone together. He owns my body whereas I just rent it.

“Lube,” he murmurs against my throat, the sound desperate and ragged.

“Bedside drawer.”

He pulls away to reach for it. When he comes back with lube and no condom, I almost confront him about it. Last night, we were reckless and unsafe. I’m of a right mind and should tell him to suit up.

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