Devon Morgan [Seven Brothers for McBride 5] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) by Anitra Lynn McLeod

him, it wasn’t as terrifying as the split second when he’d felt his collar killing him. If not for Devon’s quick reaction, Karsten knew he would have died. Relief made him cry, but then knowing that Devon wasn’t the kind of man to take advantage of him only caused him to cry harder.
    Karsten still didn’t understand Devon, but he supposed that didn’t matter nearly as much as knowing—thoroughly knowing—that he could trust him. When Devon took Karsten to his bedroom and tucked Karsten into his bed, he knew Devon wouldn’t even attempt any funny business. Devon wasn’t that kind of man. Just as he suspected, when Devon had him situated, he turned to go.
    “Please stay with me.” Karsten was barely able to speak between gasps.
    “I’ll be right down the hall.”
    “Please.”
    Devon nodded, and then he climbed under the covers. As soon as he was situated on his back, Karsten curled up to him, put his head on his chest, and let himself cry until his eyes ran dry and his gasps softened to occasional hitches. After a long time of quiet, Devon asked, “Do you feel better?”
    “I do.” Karsten lifted up and wiped his hand over Devon’s skin. “I made a mess on you.”
    “I don’t mind.” Devon wiped the tears away with the sheets. “There. Now it’s all better.” He patted his chest.
    Karsten gratefully settled back down. “Thank you.”
    “You’re welcome.”
    “I mean it.” Karsten impulsively kissed Devon’s chest. “I would have died twice over without you.”
    “I honestly mean you’re welcome.” Devon kissed the top of Karsten’s head. It was a sweet gesture that managed to convey care and respect in fairly equal measure.
    If Karsten had learned nothing else in the thrall house, he’d learned that everyone had an angle. Men didn’t do things out of the goodness of their hearts. They did things because they wanted something. Karsten had given Devon himself, but Devon had put that offer on hold until Karsten was well. Was he just caring for him so that ultimately he’d be able to use Karsten to slake his lusts? The idea of Devon’s powerful body rising over him, filling him, pleasuring him was not so very frightening. In fact, the notion made Karsten quiver with longing. But the idea of him pushing Karsten’s head to the side so he could bite his neck and draw blood—that vision wanted to propel Karsten out of bed and plaster him to the nearest wall. The only reason Karsten didn’t give in to that urge was because he trusted Devon. Surely, if he was an evil, self-serving slammer he wouldn’t have done even half of what he had. The action that spoke the loudest was when Devon fed him water with his own mouth. He didn’t fear catching any infection. Devon’s only concern was with giving Karsten what he so desperately needed.
    “Are you lonely?” Karsten thought that might explain why Devon had gone to such great lengths to save him.
    “No more than anyone else, I suppose. Out here, it’s always been me and my brothers, but we make for good company.”
    Karsten nodded against his chest. “Do all of them have thralls?”
    “Not all. But most.”
    Another question came to mind, but Karsten fell asleep before he could ask. When he woke, the room was dark, and Devon was no longer cradling him. Karsten found himself curled up to a pillow. His sharp disappointment gave way to curiosity when he heard the sound of splashing water. Reaching under the pillow, he found the bed was warm, indicating that Devon had only recently gotten up. Rising, Karsten pulled the edges of his robe closed but then let them go. He no longer had the tie to the garment. Besides, he didn’t think having the thin shield of silk would protect him from Devon.
    Right outside the bedroom door there was another door. It was closed, but from the sounds, Karsten knew it was a bathroom and Devon was inside. Cocking his head, he pressed his ear to the door. He wasn’t showering but seemed to be splashing in the