AllFreeNovel
Share Us
SKYLAR
This little shit. I hate my fucking job.
I hate it so goddamn much. I am a thirty-year-old man babysitting a glorified toddler. If it wasn’t for the money, I’d be gone. The Marines didn’t prepare me for his level of brat. No amount of training could have taught me how to deal with him.
I glance down at the dried cum on the floor and look over and see Diablo bent over the kitchen table, his little toy dolls in his hands, his lips pulled between his teeth as he concentrates. He’s still wearing the same thing he wore yesterday, a shirt, boxers, and no pants. I don’t know what he did with them, and I don’t plan on asking either.
He’s a grimy little shit…a small one too. Not that his personality shows it. It’s big and loud and fucking obnoxious. I didn’t realize he was like this when we first met weeks ago, but now that he’s feeling trapped, he’s gone off the rails. He’s like a caged raccoon. He’s nothing like his brother, who is sweet and quiet and compliant. No, Diablo is a wily, unhinged brat. Like I said, he deserves to be punished, to be spanked for once in his goddamn life. His father coddled him too much.
I could do that—try and bring him to heel. His father did say I should do what was needed to keep him alive. I think tying him up and spanking his ass red might just be the thing that does it.
He seems to melt when I touch him like that, when I get rough with him. I’ve never had to resort to this—my partners have always been willing and eager—but dominance seems to be the only thing he responds to, the only time he actually fucking obeys.
Maybe he needs someone in his life tomake him.
I’m not even attracted to him, not in the least. And yet, my cock twitches at the thought of him begging me.
“You didn’t clean up your mess,” I say, and Diablo’s eyes flick up to mine. They’re a dark brown with flecks of orange that seem to light on fire when he gets mad. His name is apt, fits him real good. He’s a fucking devil.
“Didn’t feel like it.”
I walk over to the small kitchen and grab a rag from the counter and then stand over Diablo, giving him one more fucking chance.
“Go clean up your mess.”
He peers up at me from under those long lashes and scowls.
“Make me.”
Ah, well he did ask for it. My dick twitches in my pants at the thought of bending him over, of making him do something for once in his goddamn life. I never thought I’d get turned on by this, but it seems that I am. I could bend him to my will. I’m bigger than him, stronger. Breaking him will be the greatest satisfaction.
I reach out and grab on to the back of his neck, squeezing it tightly. I feel his pulse jump as he lets out a gasp, his hands letting the toy in his fingers slip to the table with a rattle.
“Get your ass up,” I say lowly, and he fights it for a moment, his body locking up in rebellion. But my grip tightens, and he lets out a whine.
“Move.”
He sags against me before standing up and letting me walk him to the spot on the floor where his mess lies. My hand is warm against his skin, the thunder of his pulse pounding against my thumb. I press against it, and he whines again. I like that sound coming from him more than I thought I would. I’m usually with women, their moans so fucking different. I’ve been with a few men, my time in the Marines offering me little selection. Not that I minded it. It was a nice distraction at the time.
But Diablo is different from anyone I’ve ever met. Skinny and devious and so fucking rude. He’s making my head spin.
With a jerk of my arm, I bring him to his knees, and I crouch next to him, my hand still on the back of his neck and his unkempt hair brushing the back of my hand. It’s unruly and wild just like him. He should brush it, take care of himself a little more. Maybe I’ll do that for him, make him look presentable for once.
“Clean it up.”
“Fuck you,” he groans, and I lean closer to him, inhaling his scent. It’s clean, different from what I thought it would be. He’s so fucking messy. I want to make it worse. I want to ruin him and then clean him up. Put him back together again, shiny and new.
“If anyone fucks, it’s going to beyourhole that’s impaled onmydick.”
His eyelashes flicker and he swallows as I hand him the towel.
“Now clean it up.”
He grabs on to it and leans down, wiping the mess up sloppily, just smearing it around the floor. I should make him bend down and use his tongue to lick the floor clean, but I resist the temptation. I’m crossing all sorts of lines at the moment. I’m sure if his father found out exactly what I was doing to keep him safe, I’d have a bullet promptly placed through my skull. Anthony doesn’t mess around.
Not that it stops me from running my hand through his hair and forcing him down a little further.
“Do better.”
