The Hybrid Curse [MM]

Chapter: 5

*****

LIAM'S POV:

"W…What did you say?" I questioned, fear gripping me—not because of anything else, but because he had just told me to suck his cock.

Was this some kind of prank? A cruel joke I might never recover from? But as I looked back at him, I realized he was dead serious.

"Liam Armstrong, you're wasting my time. I want to see what your pretty mouth can do, huh?" His smirk was dirty, filled with amusement—like he was enjoying every second of this. And, to my shame, I found it oddly sexy.

"I'm sorry, but I can't," I muttered, my gaze locked on the floor. I couldn't look up at him.

"Seems you love your girlfriend a lot," he mused. "This confirms you're in a relationship. Well, at this point, I have no choice but to have her killed."

He reached for his phone.

I knew what was coming next. I knew exactly what he was about to do. He thought I had lied—when in fact, I hadn't.

"Hold on," I called out as he was about to dial. "I'll do it."

Without another word, I slowly crawled toward where he was sitting. His command echoed in my mind—'Till I cum'.

If I wanted to save my life and Alexis's, I had to act like I was interested. That was the clause.

"If you'd allow me to pull your pants down, Master." I requested, staring right deep into his eyes, and I couldn't deny the fact of how I felt no matter how much I tried to fight the urge.

I'm doing this to save my life, I reminded myself.

I slowly pulled his pants down, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. His arousal was evident, the outline of it making me blush slightly.

What was I expecting? He was the leader of The Blood Den. He definitely should have a big… whatever.

I tentatively rubbed his cock through the fabric. He didn't react. But I could feel the veins, and with each passing second, it grew harder. Was I actually having an effect on him?

I traced a finger against the tip before pulling back, my eyes widening as I took in his size.

Where is this man from?

It was terrifying—highly terrifying—but in a way that sent a strange thrill through me.

"Y…You're so big," I couldn't help but make the confession. Regardless of the situation, I was the type of person who appreciates things and appreciates nature in general. The fact that it was standing proud like a peacock made me wonder what it would taste like.

Without hesitation, I began to rub him again, but it was hard and dry. Too dry. I needed lubricant. Without thinking, I spat on it.

Before I could even spread the moisture, a forceful shove sent me flying. I crashed into the plywood table, pain searing through my body.

I winced, trying to process what had just happened. Moments ago, things seemed to be going well—at least, as well as they could in this situation. Even if he wouldn't admit it, he was enjoying it. But now? Now I was sprawled on the floor, gasping in pain.

"Are you really dumb?" he snarled. "You think I'd let you use your filthy spit on me?"

His voice was thunderous. I wasn't sure if I should be scared that he was angry or scared of his loud roar about it.

"I couldn't find any lubricant… I had no other option," I muttered, making sure he heard me whatever it was that I was saying.

"Get out of my office." he ordered; without saying a word, I stumbled out, glancing back one last time at his still proud peacock.

I had ruined everything.

What was I thinking?

I was nothing but a filthy animal he had decided to spare. And now, with my actions, I had just thrown that away.

....

I didn't know how long, but I finally got to the front of my door tired of today's activities. Different thoughts ran through my mind if I was going to die after this? And his purpose for saying I should leave, instead he could have killed me at that moment, but I was too drained to think it through.

As soon as I unlocked the door, I dragged myself inside. All I wanted was to rest and wait for whatever came next—my death, probably.

"You look exhausted, baby."

I froze.

That voice.

My heart lurched as I turned toward the source.

"What are you doing here, Roman?" I asked, swallowing hard. My pulse pounded in my ears as memories of my last intimate moment with the Boss flashed through my mind. But another thought overshadowed them—

How did he get in?

"What? Can't I come to your house anymore?" Roman said, a small smirk curving his lips. A smirk that made a dread coil in my gut. "Or are you forgetting something? We're friends."

I clenched my jaw.

He took a step closer, his nose practically brushing against my shirt as he sniffed.

"And you smell different tonight," he murmured. His tone was casual, but I wasn't fooled. "This scent… it's not from me. It's not from Alexis. And we're the only two friends you have in this city."

His gaze sharpened.

"So tell me, Liam. Where have you been?"

I inhaled sharply. "I can be anywhere I want, Roman. You don't control my life."

I turned away, making my way to the refrigerator. I needed water—anything to calm my racing thoughts.

But before I could take a sip, Roman snatched the bottle from my hand and threw it onto the floor.

Before I could react, he slammed me against the counter. Not hard enough to truly hurt me, but enough to make me flinch—especially after everything I'd already endured tonight.

"You're anxious, baby," he whispered, staring into my eyes. I shook my head, refusing to let him see through me.

But then, he smirked. "Look at your hands, Liam."

I did. They were shaking. Trembling so badly it was impossible to deny. My stomach twisted.

"It's nothing," I muttered, finally pushing him away. He laughed—a sound that made the guilt in my chest churn violently.

I hated this feeling. I tried to suppress it, but I couldn't. Roman and I weren't in a relationship. So why did I feel guilty?

He cleared his throat before he began, "Sometimes, I wonder how you're the greatest underground fighter in the realm," he mused. "If I hadn't seen you in the ring, I'd doubt it. Because the person standing in front of me right now? He's nothing like the fighter I know."

His words sliced through me like a blade.

Without another word, I turned and walked out of the room.

But just as I reached the door, his voice followed me—

"Oh, and by the way… that perfume? It reminds me of someone I hate."

I stiffened.

"He's the only one who wears it in this whole city," Roman continued. His voice was deceptively light, but his meaning was clear. "If you want to stay in your house tonight, scrub yourself like a damn rag."

My breath hitched.

"What?" I turned back. "The perfume… reminds you of someone you hate?"

His smirk widened. And for the first time tonight, true fear settled in my bones.