Do You Like Scary Movies? - An unhinged Ghost Face fic nobody asked for (Patreon)

This is unedited/unbeta'd/uneverythinged. Contains spitting, face-slapping, all of Noah's favorite things. Knife-play...sort of...some blood.

Few things shocked Noah anymore. Being married into a family of killers–no, wrangling a family of killers–had made him virtually shockproof. Still, when his cell phone lit up with an unknown number, the hairs on the back of his neck prickled. He glanced out the kitchen window at the fading sun, the sky bruising violet, his dogs still bounding around in the crisp air like they owned the yard.

He sighed, slid the last dish into the washer, and dried his hands on his spooky dish towel–a gift from Zane, naturally–before swiping right and hitting speaker.

“Hello?”

“Do you like scary movies?” a mechanical voice rasped, distorted enough to make his skin crawl.

Noah rolled his eyes. “Buddy, my whole life is a scary movie.” He hit disconnect without hesitation, shaking his head.

He loved fall. Loved autumn. Loved all the same basic bitch shit as Zane, Felix, Ever, and Shiloh. Every October, they dragged their partners out for apple-picking, cider donuts at the pumpkin patch, haunted house marathons. Once, even a hayride. 

But only once. 

That was how they’d learned Ever was violently allergic to hay. The poor thing had ballooned up like a Macy’s day parade float. For anyone else, a trip to the ER for anaphylaxis would have been a disaster. Not their little Ever. He’d been delighted–three firsts in one night: hayride, ER, and discovering he could die from hay.

Noah’s phone buzzed again. Unknown number. He swiped it to voicemail, jaw tightening. Should he finish the kitchen or go throw a ball for the dogs? Adam had left hours ago with the twins–something about helping pick up the costumes for Dad’s Halloween weekend.

When the phone rang a third time, Noah snarled, snatching it up. “Get a life.”

“Don’t hang up,” the tinny growl came again, warped and unsettling.

Noah hung up.

Prank. Had to be. Some idiot who thought they were clever. Noah loved the Scream movies. They were a Halloween staple but being on the receiving end of nuisance phone calls was a lot more annoying than he’d imagined. But he wasn’t going to let it ruin his fall. 

He loved the crisp air, the fire-colored leaves, the pumpkin-spice everything. But the closer it crawled to Halloween, the stranger people got. Serenity Grove was no exception. Something about this place made people feral.

Maybe the spice in pumpkin spice was a street drug. Had to be. Nothing else explained the way otherwise reasonable adults lost their minds like it was Thunderdome season.

Case in point: the last HOA meeting. An actual screaming match over whether full-size or fun-size candy bars were mandatory. Whether green counted as a ‘traditional’ Halloween color or if it was strictly orange, black, and purple. Whether they had to let kids from outside the gates trick-or-treat.

Just last night, Claude and Gert had gotten into a knock-down, drag-out fight over a fifteen-foot plastic scarecrow frozen in a Karate Kid–style crane stance on his front lawn. Gert swore it terrified her dog. Claude told her to walk the other way. She threatened to call the HOA. He threatened to litter her lawn with purple and orange flamingos. She slapped him across the face with her dog’s leash like it was a dueling glove. He held his cheek with such affront that Noah had just…stood there, frozen.

It was a mess.

Funny, but a mess.

Eventually, Adam had intervened. Adam. His Adam. The chaos king. The scourge of the Mulvaney family. The one who’d taught every Mulvaney kid proper waterboarding techniques and how to hotwire a car blindfolded. How the hell had they moved to a neighborhood where his husband was the most normal resident on the street? Even Noah was starting to feel a little crazy.

And soon, it would affect the whole family.

Jericho and Freckles’ house—built on the massive lot behind theirs—would be ready in less than four weeks. Felix, Zane, and the twins’ house right next door would be finished two weeks after that. August and Lucas had bought the home six doors down, unwilling to wait with baby number four coming.

Aiden and Thomas were still on the fence about moving. Dad wasn’t sure he could part with the family home. He worried that any new place wouldn’t accommodate everyone for the holidays, and they’d already dropped millions creating a children’s wing. Theo and the grandlittles all had their own bedrooms in the Mulvaney mansion now.

Noah was relieved to have reinforcements but not-so-secretly worried the Stepford-husband trend would take root in all the others and he’d end up the protagonist nobody believed. Thomas had said he’d always believe him. Which was nice. Noah had even teared up a little.

When his phone rang again, he was watching the dogs roll in the dirt, shredding their new Halloween sweaters.

“Hello?” he muttered, distracted. 

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” the voice asked.

Noah rolled his eyes again. “Are we gonna do this all night or are you just gonna jump out of a closet and kill me? If I’m gonna die, I’d rather do it before I finish the kitchen, not after.”

He hung up before they could answer. He needed to bring the dogs in—

He gasped as something cold and metallic pressed to the side of his neck, his heart rate galloping. His gaze darted upward to the glass above the kitchen sink, the reflection sharpening as the sun bled out of the sky.

A rubber Ghost Face mask stared back at him. Long black robe. A gloved hand holding what looked like a knife–or a very convincing prop–while a warm, solid body pinned him to the counter, draping itself over him like a shadow.

Noah’s rational brain whispered it was Adam. His pulse whispered it wasn’t.

Noah assessed the situation. The blade against his throat was very real. If he moved anywhere his assailant didn’t want him to, he’d bleed. The edge bit just enough to sting, cold steel kissing his pulse. He didn’t know what it said about him that he was already hard, his cock trapped painfully between the granite and his body, throbbing with every panicked beat of his heart.

“If you’re not my husband, you really picked the wrong guy to fuck with,” Noah said, leaning back against Adam’s chest. The heat pouring off the man was familiar, steady, and it made Noah’s stomach twist with dark anticipation. “He’s really, really protective of me.”

“Is that so?” the mechanical voice asked, low and inhuman, the distortion rattling straight through Noah’s bones.

“Mm,” Noah confirmed, reaching behind him to grip the robe on either side, pulling him tighter against him.

The scent was Adam. The way the body moved with his was Adam. But the mask staring back at him in the glass? That was wrong enough to ping his lizard brain. He was now more convinced than ever that it was Adam behind him. Who else could afford a mask with a built-in voice modulator? And after all these years, it wasn’t like he didn’t know his own husband’s every trick.

“I’m sure you don’t want to die screaming,” Noah taunted, letting just enough bravado bleed into his voice.

“You’re gonna be the only one screaming tonight.”

Yeah, that was definitely Adam.

Noah snorted. “Promises, promises.”

The knife withdrew, but before Noah could do more than turn around, Adam had him tossed over one shoulder, carrying him down the hall like he weighed nothing. Noah cackled loudly, caught off guard, his fists thumping uselessly against Adam’s back.

When Adam set him back on his feet, they were in their bedroom. “You sure seem to know my house,” Noah observed, heart still hammering.

Adam didn’t acknowledge the question, just stepped back, towering. “Strip.”

“You could say please,” Noah pouted, dragging it out.

Noah stared at the hollow eyes of the mask as he flicked open each button on his shirt, testing Adam’s patience just for the thrill of it. Danger was hot. Danger in Adam’s hands was scorching. His husband had a tendency to grow…impatient when he was denied what he wanted, and when Adam got impatient, he got mean. Noah loved when Adam was mean.

It only took about ten more seconds for Adam to growl, yanking Noah closer by his shirt before ripping it open, little plastic projectiles flying everywhere. “Strip. Faster,” the mechanical voice spat, warped and merciless.

Noah sighed, then tossed his ruined shirt to the ground. “I liked that shirt.”

“Then you should have taken it off when I told you to.”

Noah worked open the button and zipper on his jeans, then stepped free of them, kicking them away. He gestured with a flourish. He hadn’t bothered with underwear. He never did when they were at home. Adam had ruined too many pairs.

“There you go, Mr. Scary Ghost Face,” he said, putting on his best Marilyn voice. “But you better hurry up if you plan to defile me before my husband gets home.”

Adam’s hand closed around Noah’s throat, yanking him forward hard enough to make him stumble, squeezing the sides until Noah’s vision sparked. “You’re awfully mouthy for someone who’s naked and defenseless.”

Fuck, he had big hands. The pressure was possessive, not crushing, and Noah’s cock jerked at the hold, pre-come already leaking down his thigh.

“Oh, we both know I’m not defenseless. I’m just humoring you,” Noah managed, giving him a smug smile even as his head swam from the sudden loss of blood flow. “And if you don’t like me talking, maybe you should find a way to shut me up?”

Adam turned around, snagging something off the dresser. One of Noah’s ties. He’d prepped for this. A tiny thrill ran through Noah. He held his hands up, but Adam just tossed the knife onto the bed, then spun Noah around, tugging his arms behind him and securing them with the silk fabric. The silk dragged tight against his wrists, burning faintly as it bit into the skin. Noah bit back a smile when Adam slipped a finger beneath the ties to make sure they weren’t too tight.

“Awfully considerate for a cold-blooded killer.”

Noah anticipated him whipping him back around. He didn’t expect the slap to the face that had his head jerking to the side, skin burning hot where Adam’s gloved palm had landed. His cock twitched, already wet with anticipation. He loved when Adam got violent. The glove had added some extra weight behind it. 

“What was that?” Adam asked, voice low and distorted through the mask.

“I said you hit like a bitch,” Noah countered, then spit on the mask.

“Let’s see if you still think that in a minute,” Adam said, shoving two fingers past Noah’s lips, hooking them behind his bottom teeth to force his mouth open. Noah gagged slightly, then moaned, sucking hard at them, the taste of leather bitter on his tongue. Adam dragged them free, then wiped them on Noah’s cheek, smearing spit across his skin.

“Filthy little slut,” Adam rasped, the modulated voice almost demonic. “I like you better when you’re stuffed or gagging.”

Noah’s bottom lip caught between his teeth as Adam reached behind himself. The rip of Velcro was loud, obscene, as the robe fell to the floor, leaving Adam in only his black sweatpants. Noah had known it was him, but seeing the tattoos–bold black ink rippling with every flex–finally untied that sliver of doubt floating around in his chest.

He wanted to lick them. Wanted to trace every mark with his tongue until Adam was growling above him.

Their sex life was hardly lacking, but it was harder to let Adam toss him around and treat him like a whore when he had staff meetings or press briefings the next morning. But tonight, it didn’t matter. Tomorrow was the annual Mulvaney Halloween gala. Fifty plus people would descend on the Mulvaney mansion, but right now? Noah was his husband’s prey.

“Leave the mask on,” Noah whispered, and fell to his knees without being ordered to.

“Someone’s eager,” Adam taunted, fisting a hand in Noah’s hair and pulling him forward until his face pressed against the thick bulge in his sweats.

Noah moaned, shameless, licking the outline of his husband’s cock through the soft cotton. His tongue traced the ridge of Adam’s head, dampening the fabric until a dark stain spread across it.

“You’re so hot when you’re on your knees like this.”

“Just when I’m like this?” Noah asked, sitting back on his heels to look up at him through his lashes, eyes wide and fake-innocent.

“You know the answer to that,” Adam said, voice somehow sexy despite the mechanical growl.

“I like to hear it anyway.”

“Then do something deserving of praise.” 

Adam yanked his head back by the hair, the sting delicious.

“If you want me to suck you off, you’re going to have to lower your pants yourself or untie me.”

The glint of challenge in Noah’s eyes was a match tossed on gasoline. Adam’s laugh was low and cruel, the sound vibrating through the mask. “Oh, I’ll feed you, sweetheart. I love listening to you choke on my cock.”

Adam hooked his thumbs into his waistband. The gesture was unhurried, predatory. His chipped black nail polish caught the low light like little crescent moons, and Noah couldn’t stop watching them. Each drag of fabric down Adam’s hips revealed another inch of skin–taut muscle, the dark line of hair trailing lower–until Noah’s throat went dry.

He was already so hard it was painful, the head of his cock slick against his belly. He knew Adam would only let him get off one of two ways. Either he had to let Adam finish, or he had to hope Adam would let him rub off on his foot while he called him a needy little slut.

Noah preferred the latter. He could practically feel the ghost of his husband’s heel against his cock just from thinking about it.

The moment Adam’s cock sprang free, heavy and flushed, Noah’s resolve cracked. He leaned forward and licked a slow stripe across the underside, tasting salt and heat, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “Please.”

“Please what?”

Noah whined, tongue darting against the vein running along Adam’s shaft. “You know what I want.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Fuck my throat. Use me.”

Adam huffed out a laugh. “Slut.”

Noah nodded eagerly, moaning as Adam fed his cock past his lips. The first push was brutal, not a tease but a claim. His lips stretched, throat working around the intrusion. His nose brushed Adam’s pelvis with every thrust, the faint smell of soap and sweat and leather filling his head until there was no room for anything else.

If he’d expected Adam to ease him in, he was wrong. He was merciless from the outset, forcing Noah to breathe through his nose or gag. Neither of them would be satisfied until Noah was drooling and embarrassing himself with the wet, slick sound of Adam’s use.

Each thrust drove the head of Adam’s cock into the back of Noah’s throat like a piston, his gag reflex fluttering helplessly. His jaw ached; his eyes watered. He moaned anyway, the vibrations running up Adam’s shaft.

Adam pulled his head back by the hair and slapped him across the face once more, dragging another needy whine from him.

“Who do you belong to?”

“You,” Noah rasped, voice raw and lips slick with spit.

“Prove it.”

Noah tipped his head back and waited, eyes closed.

“Stick out your tongue.”

Noah didn’t hesitate. When he felt Adam’s spit on his tongue, hot and wet, landing in a thick string, he swallowed it like it was communion, a groan rattling out of him. By the time he opened his eyes again, Adam had fixed his mask back into place, the hollow eyes impossibly dark.

“I love when you’re this obedient,” he said, sliding his cock back into his mouth, his fingers twisting his hair at the root. Noah groaned around him, aching to jerk himself off but unable to do so, his bound wrists useless.

“You were born to be on your knees.”

Adam shoved his cock as deep as it would go, until Noah’s lips pressed flat against his skin and his air supply vanished. The only thing he could do was swallow, throat convulsing, tears spilling down his cheeks. Drool coated his lips and chin, dripping onto their hardwood floors in slick strands.

Adam waited until Noah’s vision started to tunnel before pulling free. Noah dragged in heaving breaths, spit stringing from his mouth to the swollen head of Adam’s cock. Even through the mask, Noah could feel the intensity of his gaze, like a hand closing around his heart.

Once more, he stuck out his tongue, eyes trained on his husband’s sweaty, heaving abs. He was close. Noah could tell from the tremor in his thighs, the way his cock jerked in his grip.

Adam came with another mechanical growl that should not have been at all hot, but somehow was. The sound was low and vibrating, a monster’s purr, as his salty release coated Noah’s tongue.

He swallowed it all, then opened his mouth to show Adam, tongue out, glistening, the perfect submissive picture.

“Is it my turn now?” Noah rasped, voice hoarse but wicked.

Adam stared down at him for a long moment, before his head turned to the bed. “Do you trust me?”

“You have to ask after all these years?” Noah countered.

“Get on the bed. Ass up.”

Noah frowned but did as he was told, careful to avoid brushing against the knife still lying there like a threat. He expected the mattress to dip under Adam’s weight, but it didn’t. Instead, he was left with his face pressed into the comforter, his ass high and exposed, cock drooling onto the fabric like proof of his own humiliation.

He stared at the knife—six inches of gleaming steel with a serrated edge. The handle was smooth, rounded metal, made for grip, almost too sleek. He didn’t recognize it, and that unsettled him more than the blade itself. How many toys did Adam have stashed away that he didn’t even know about?

The longer he lay there, the worse his anxiety clawed at him, winding his nerves tight. But it did nothing to ease the painful throb of his cock, dripping and aching for friction. He heard Adam moving around, slow, deliberate. The drawer sliding open on his side of the bed. A bottle cap clicking. Lube. Finally.

When the bed dipped at last, Noah almost sobbed with relief. Until Adam reached over him and grabbed the knife.

“Whatcha doing?”

“I thought you said you trusted me?” Adam’s voice had lost the mechanical distortion, but the purr was still taunting, dark silk over steel.

“More than I trust anyone else with a hunting knife,” Noah muttered, his pulse leaping, “but that’s a low bar.”

Adam chuckled–condescending, amused–the sound vibrating straight through Noah’s spine. It was the kind of laugh that said he was already five steps ahead, that Noah was already caught. Fear spiked icy-hot along Noah’s nerves. He’d never been so turned on in his life.

When cold metal touched his rim, he flinched hard, an animal-like whimper clawing out of his throat before he could stop it. He knew Adam wouldn’t actually hurt him–wouldn’t–but his intrusive thoughts painted black anyway.

He gasped when the handle slipped past the first tight ring of muscle. It was bigger than it had looked, the stretch making him burn just enough to make his cock twitch. The sharp, metallic chill turned molten as it seated deeper.

“Adam?” His voice cracked on the name.

“Shh,” Adam soothed, one hand firm on his lower back. “You’re okay. You’re gonna like this.”

Noah’s shoulders ached from his wrists being pinned, but there was no sharp pain, only the overwhelming press inside him. The handle slid deeper, the smooth metal gliding, pressing and dragging over delicate skin.

The design was cruelly perfect—four thick beads stacked, each one stretching him wider, each pop dragging a cry from his chest until the last pressed right against that electric bundle of nerves. The flared base fit snug at his rim, the curve of the guard catching just right so there was no danger of the blade slipping further.

Adam pulled out slowly, then drove it back in, making Noah jolt and cry out as pleasure detonated low in his spine.

“F-fuck–”

Adam shifted slightly, and then Noah’s world narrowed to nothing but sensation, slick fingers closing around his cock, pumping him in time with every brutal thrust of the handle. The rhythm was obscene, mechanical, Adam using him like a machine made to be filled and stroked.

Drool pooled on the comforter beneath his open mouth as his eyes rolled back, body arching like a bow. Each thrust of the handle nailed that spot inside him, lighting up every nerve ending until his thighs trembled uncontrollably.

Tiny, desperate cries fell from him in broken rhythm with his ragged breaths. He couldn’t think, couldn’t form words, couldn’t do anything but take it.

“I’m not gonna last,” Noah gasped, voice high, wrecked.

“You don’t have to,” Adam said simply, like a sentence passed down.

It only took two more brutal strokes and Noah was spilling onto the mattress, his cum soaking into the comforter in thick, messy ropes. His whole body shuddered violently, his cries muffled against the sheets. Adam didn’t stop, not right away. He kept working the handle in and out, pushing him through the climax until Noah’s sharp moans cracked into raw whimpers, until every nerve ending screamed with overstimulation and the delicious burn tipped toward pain.

“Adam–” he hissed, jerking when the next thrust dragged too deep.

Only then did Adam relent, sliding the handle free in one slick, obscene sound. Noah winced at the sudden emptiness, his rim twitching, feeling stretched raw and gaping. For a second he just stayed there, trembling, forehead pressed to the mattress while his lungs fought for air.

As soon as Adam freed his wrists, Noah collapsed sideways, rolling onto his back with a graceless flop. His chest was heaving, his cock soft but still sticky against his stomach. He blinked up, dazed, just in time to see Adam standing over him, completely naked now, tattoos stark against sweat-slick skin, the Ghost Face mask still hiding his face.

“You’re such a freak,” Noah managed, laughter ragged in his throat.

“Right,” Adam drawled, climbing onto the bed with the slow, predatory grace that made Noah’s stomach swoop. He crawled over him until he hovered, his cock brushing hot against Noah’s thigh. “Because I’m the one who begged to be throat-fucked by Ghost Face.”

“Begging seems like an exaggeration,” Noah teased, though his voice was still wrecked and hoarse.

Adam didn’t bother arguing. Noah slid the mask off, noting his husband’s sweaty, mussed hair. When he bent his knees and spread his thighs, Adam slid easily into the cradle of his body, settling there like he owned him. He kissed him, slow and deliberate, almost puritanical considering what they’d just done. His mouth was soft even though Noah could still taste himself and Adam’s cum clinging to his tongue.

“Are you okay?” Adam murmured, breaking the kiss just long enough to press his forehead to Noah’s.

Noah gave a breathless laugh, his chest still heaving. “Do I not seem okay?”

“Just checking in,” Adam said, his still-gloved palm heavy and possessive against Noah’s chest. “That’s my job.”

“If your job is to scare the shit out of me and then fuck me stupid,” Noah muttered, still half-laughing, half-shaking. “Then you’re really fucking good at your job.”

Adam’s mouth curved against his. “Good to know.”

They laid there just breathing each other in for a few moments before Noah finally asked, “Did you manage to get the costume situation handled or did you and the twins get distracted?” 

Adam gave him an affronted look. “All costumes were picked up and delivered where they needed to go.” 

“Did you manage to get a look at anyone else’s costumes?” Noah asked, hope bleeding into his voice.

Adam shook his head. “No. Everyone is being very elusive about their couples costumes.” 

Noah deflated, face falling. “I’m surprised Thomas went with the Villains & Vigilantes theme. Seems a bit…on the nose, no?” 

Adam shrugged, dead weight on top of Noah. “He does love a bit of irony.” 

“How are we going to survive an entire weekend with fifty plus people?” Noah asked. “That’s a lot of peopling. You know it's going to get crazy.” 

“Dad does this every year.” 

“I know but this year it's not just the family. There’s Jericho’s boys and the guys from Elite coming. The whole Conti family will be there. A bunch of Dad’s government cronies will be there, as well as people from The Watch. That’s…a lot of people guarding a lot of secrets.”

“No, that’s a lot of people guarding one giant secret that we’re all in on. It's a lot of moving parts but Elite knows about the Watch. They hired the teachers. The government knows what we do. Jericho’s kids know what we do, we know what they do, they know what the government does. The only wild cards are the Conti’s and there’s enough mutually assured destruction to ensure everyone keeps their mouths shut.” 

Noah nodded, absently playing with Adam’s hair. “And dad knows we’re bringing the dogs this year?” 

Adam laughed. “Yeah. Freckles is even bringing Boots.” 

“He’s bringing his cat?” Noah asked, incredulous.

Adam snickered. “Yeah, crazy right?” 

Noah shook his head. “You know this is going to just devolve into chaos.”

“Would it be a Mulvaney event if it didn’t?” 

“There is one wild card we haven’t considered,” Noah said after a minute.

Adam frowned. “Who?” 

“Matty.” 

“Who?” Adam said again. 

Noah rolled his eyes. “What are you? An owl? Aiden’s baby brother. He’s invited too.”

“Oh, yeah. Him. I forgot about him.” 

Noah rolled his eyes. “He’s never met any of these people outside the immediate family and he still doesn’t know everything we do. Just…some of it. I’m sure Thomas didn’t sit down and draw him a diagram of the entire criminal enterprise we’re running. What if someone slips up?”

Adam’s hand dragged idly up and down Noah’s side, the leather sticky. “When Aiden first brought him up, didn’t he say Matty knew about the Watch and implied he even knew about us. The kid’s not going to rat us out. He likes August’s fancy private school too much.”

Noah huffed, then wrapped his arms and legs around his husband like a koala. “Let’s take a bath. I feel gross.”

Adam arched his brow. “Is this your way of telling me I’m carrying you there?”

“You’re so smart,” Noah marveled, cheek pressed to his chest.

Adam rolled his eyes but rose anyway, forcing Noah to cling tighter until he was on his feet. His gloved palms settled on Noah’s ass automatically, squeezing. The feel of leather and body fluids against Noah's bare skin was creepy, but it made his belly hot thinking about what they'd just done.

“Wanna order takeout and watch scary movies?” Noah asked as Adam started toward the bathroom.

Adam’s mouth quirked. “Scream marathon?”

“Sure,” Noah said, “but I don’t know if I’m ever going to be able to watch those movies again without getting inappropriately turned on.”

Adam’s laugh was dark and low, his grip tightening just a little. “That’s okay. I’ll just take care of you again. I bought the costume outright just in case we damaged it.”

Noah grinned. “But I won’t be able to watch if you’re getting me off.”

Adam snorted. “Sure you will. I’ll just bend you over the back of the sofa so you can see the screen while I rail you into oblivion.”

Noah sighed, the sound dreamy, wicked, and still a little hoarse. “And people say you’re inconsiderate.”

“I know, right?” Adam drawled, looking like he was already imagining it. The heat in his eyes made Noah’s stomach flip.

It wasn’t until he settled him on his feet that he noted the blood trail on the white tile. “What the fuck?” 

His gaze darted everywhere, assessing himself and Adam, trying to figure out the source of the bleeding. He gasped when he saw the blood on Adam’s glove and the slit in the leather. He yanked the glove off, gawking at the jagged raw cut in his husband’s palm. “ Jesus, Adam. You’re gonna need stitches. Are you fucking crazy? You didn’t put the knife back in the cover thingie-” 

“Sheath.” 

“So, not the point,” Noah cried, eyes wide. "You just held the blade while you...Oh, my God."

Noah gripped his palm, staring down at the wound.

“There wasn’t time. Besides, it was totally worth it. You should have seen how hot you looked, back arched and whining as I fucked that handle into your needy little hole.” 

Noah gave him an exasperated look. “Are you-Are you getting turned on right now? While you’re bleeding all over our floors.”

"What? Should I apologize for finding my husband hot?" Adam asked, sounding genuinely baffled by Noah's tone.

He looked over his shoulder at his reflection, noting the smears of blood on his own skin, mentally inventorying all the linens they’d just ruined on the bed. 

“Relax. You can superglue it shut after we shower and we’ll change the sheets together. It’s not that big a deal," Adam said like he could read Noah's mind.  

Noah stared at him wide-eyed. “You’re such a goddamn lunatic.” 

Adam’s slow grin made Noah’s cock twitch, especially when he leaned down to whisper, “And you fucking love it, you little freak.” 

He did. God help him. He really fucking did.