Sunday, February 28, 2016

Take Your Breath Away

Slight Hiccup

Tyler Curiel had his fork mid-way to his mouth when he heard it.

A quick gasp and then...

Hiccup.

His head popped up, censure creasing his face as he stared at the bowed head of his dinner companion. Aeith Io sat across from him, not looking at him as he silently savored his soup. But no matter what they did, neither of them could ignore the tiny choking sounds coming from the other table.

Ty lay his fork on his plate. “Really, Aeith, here?”

The other man just shrugged, the outline of his shoulder looking more defined than it had a moment ago. “What? Would you rather I disappear mid-date?”

Ty’s lips thinned as he looked at the almost translucent man across from him. Not man. Not really. Sylph. An air elemental. Ty could watch every spoonful of soup travel through the sylph’s body, across his tongue, down his throat, and pooling in his belly. But, as the restaurant patron hiccupped behind them, it became harder to see through the sylph as the unknown man’s breath fed Aeith more than the meal in his bowl, making his spirit-like form more solid.

Aeith blinked up at Ty, his blue eyes suddenly wide and vibrant, especially against his sheer skin. “What’s the big deal?”

“You’re stealing his breath!”

Aeith lifted a disinterested shoulder. “Just a little.”

Ty leaned in over the table, trying to keep his voice a low hiss. “This is a restaurant.” A nice one. “He could choke.” And wouldn’t that just make for a memorable date night? This was the first time they’d been able to get together in more than six weeks and Aeith was pulling this kind of crap; what was wrong with him? This was not how he’d planned for the night to go. 

“He’s fine.” The sound of that sylph slurping his soup grated on Ty. “It’s just the hiccups.” It was so rude, the way he sucked in the savory liquid and stolen breath in a long, loud inhale. “Hardly anything at all.” He picked up his napkin and patted the corners of his mouth, his fingers distinct and tangible. “I’m barely taking enough to stay corporeal.”

But he was taking it all the same. “Could you just not do it here?”

“Why not?”

Ty huffed. “Or at least take it from me.”

“Why?”

Ty’s fists clenched. “It’s rude to do it to strangers.” Strangers who had no say or control over it, who likely had no idea what was even happening. At least, if it was Ty, he would know what was going on and would be benefiting from it too.

Aeith rolled his eyes. “You really want to be hiccupping throughout the whole meal?” He harrumphed. “This is the first time we’ve seen each other in more than a month and you want to spend the entire time having a broken conversation?”

“I don’t want to.” He didn’t like having the hiccups any more than anyone else, but it was better than subjecting some poor stranger to it. “I wish you wouldn’t do it at all.”

Aeith pouted, his now full bottom lip jutting out. “Well, I wouldn’t have to, if we saw each other more than once every couple of months.”

Ty pursed his lips together. He knew that. They’d had that conversation a million times. But they lived far apart and both worked a lot. It was hard to find time to get together.

And…

“Fine.”

Aeith was only doing this for him. Ty could hear it in his voice, the reluctantly patronizing capitulation clear and aggravating. Ty could practically hear the fight they’d have later in the hotel echo in that single, salty word.

The man behind them took one more gasp, strong yet suddenly easier, before a beat of silence. A little awkward laughter tittered, easing into conversation behind them again.

Ty picked up his fork, sighing. “Thank you.”

Without looking up, Aeith brought his spoon to his mouth, the color and shape of his hand draining as he moved, and slurped.

* * *

Aeith cringed when Ty slammed the door behind him, the gust of air like a slap to the face. Well, great. Wasn’t that just great?

Aeith sighed. Humans, man, he just didn’t get them. As intemperate and unpredictable as they thought the wind was, they were worse. Aeith knew the wind. It was understandable, affected by the position and intensity of pressure systems and how they interacted with each other and the altitude and the world around them. Figure out the factors and it all made sense; it just flowed. It was natural. Rational.

But Ty. Aeith couldn’t figure him out, not even if he had every factor and knew every system. Ty never moved or acted or thought in rational, natural patterns.

It was half why Aeith liked him. The mystery of it all. The whirlwind, he guessed. The way Ty could sweep him off his feet and whip up all kinds of feelings inside him.

It made him feel out of control and he loved it.

And he hated it.

Because how did you live like that? Love like that?

He winced again when he heard Ty stomp into the bathroom, the muffled impact of his feet ruffling the carpet, and twist the faucet. The sound of screeching metal fixtures and rushing water filled the hotel room. Aeith sighed and sat down on the bed. Well, tonight was going great!

Closing his eyes, Aeith kicked up his legs and laid down on the bed. He could already feel himself start to fade. He could feel the current from the air conditioner, pulling and pushing at him, more strongly than the bed beneath him. He lifted an arm to his face and looked right through it, seeing the barest outline of the limb before he let it fall over his eyes.

He didn’t even turn when he heard — felt — Ty open the door. “You’re still here?”

Where would he go? His opened eyes stared at the ceiling fan whirring above him through his forearm. “As much as I can be.”

He could hear Ty’s feet shuffle on the bathroom’s tile, feel the shift of it in the air. “I’m sorry.” He coughed, the harsh puff of air hitting Aeith hard. “About all that at the restaurant.”

Aeith wanted to laugh. “Are you? Really? Or do you just not want to fight right now?”

There was a still, expectant pause. “Do you want to fight?”

Did he? “Kinda.” He sat up, practically floating upright, his weightless body not even making a dent in the duvet. “I don’t get what got you so upset in the first place.” Ty knew what Aeith was, knew how he lived.

He was a sylph. A Breath Thief. An elemental brought to being by the literal breath of life. The way he saw it, the air — any air, from the thinnest mountain breeze to the garlic-scented hiccup of some diner who really should brush more often — was more his kind’s than anyone else’s. And it wasn’t as if he ever took more than he needed. Barely took even that.

He shook his head. “It was just hiccups.” A nuisance for them. An uncomfortable nothing. But, for Aeith, it meant that he could sit across from his boyfriend and have a nice meal. Like a real couple. Be out in public. Be seen and heard and felt. Like a real person.

Hell, he hadn’t even been able to finish his dinner! Without the pasta-eating patron’s breath, his fingers had faded too much to pick up the spoon by the end of the meal. It’d taken everything he had to stay visible and stationary at the table. To not completely fade and float away.

It was taking effort now.

“Just do it already.”

Aeith looked at Ty. “Do what?”

“Steal my breath.” He took a deep breath before letting it out resignedly. “You need it; I can barely see you. So just do it.”

Just do it.

Aeith winced. “Is it that terrible?” Ty never seemed to mind before. Had seemed, in fact, to enjoy it. But, the way he talked about it now… he made it sound like such a burden. Aeith never wanted to be a burden, some chore or obligation weighing on Ty.

Just do it.

Well, how could he now?

Aeith let go. Let the room’s stale, artificially circulated air take him, disappearing and dispersing within it. He let his voice be all that was left of him. “Maybe we should just call it a night.”

“Aeith!” Ty bristled. “You’re going to go?”

He should. It’d be for the best.

“Of course you are!” Ty stomped around the room, waving his arms, trying to disrupt the air in the room as much as possible. “That’s what you’re good at. Fading away. Flying off to who-knows-where, instead of just dealing with the hard stuff.”

Aeith stubbornly stilled, holding himself heavy as Ty’s words washed over him. That wasn’t fair. Aeith always figured it was better, smarter, easier, to rise above his troubles. To let them sink down to the ground, where he couldn’t be dragged down by them.

From the ceiling, he looked down at Ty, who was still thrashing about the room like a wild thing. Was Ty trouble? Would Aeith really be better off leaving him behind?

Did he want to?

He didn’t know. But he didn’t want to leave things like this. So he let out his last breath, letting it carry his voice. “Do you really want me to do it?” To take his breath.

Ty stopped and stilled, looking up at a random spot on the ceiling. “I told you you could.”

Which wasn’t the same as wanting him to. Aeith felt the difference distinctly. But, welcome or not, wanted or not, what else could he do? So, even though permission wasn’t quite the same as approval, Aeith inhaled.

* * *

Ty felt it the moment Aeith did it. He felt the other man draw in air as if he’d reached deep inside Ty’s chest and sucked it from his lungs. It didn’t hurt. Not really. It was just sudden and unshakable, like his body — no longer his for the span of the long breath — was being taken over. Ty’s back arched and his knees wobbled at the shock of it.

He shouldn’t have been shocked.

He’d talked to Ty about this before. Done this to Ty before. Aeith was a sylph. A Dawn Taker, a Last Gasp.

With a bellowed gulp, Ty shook his head as breath surged back into his lungs. That wasn’t fair. Ty knew that sylphs had long since stopped the practice — as a widely accepted one, at least — of siphoning air from sleeping dreamers, who were less likely to notice the theft than during waking hours, because it was just far too easy to get lost in the act. A sylph could sit atop a dreamer and breathe them so deeply, as they lay helplessly unconscious beneath them, that the dreamer died, smothered under the weight of all their lost breath.

Aeith had never done something like that. Would never.

Ty was sure.

Mostly.

He looked at Aeith now standing, still mostly see-through, in front of him. He wasn’t looking at Ty. Instead, he was staring at his hands, turning them over and over, even though they were little more than a vague outline. “Is it so awful?”

Ty paused. “Is what?” He knew what.

“You know.” Aeith shrugged. “Me.”

Closing his eyes, Ty let out a noncommittal huff.

But he looked up when he heard Aeith make a choked sound. “It is.” The words were a barely audible whisper. Aeith looked up from his hands, meeting Ty’s gaze. I am. Ty could read the thought, the fear, in Aeith’s eyes.

“No.” It wasn’t. He wasn’t. It’s just...

“Don’t lie to me.” He stumbled back, his unsubstantial feet not even disturbing the carpet’s shag. He shook his head. “Stop lying to me.”

“I’m not lying.”

Aeith kept backing away, his breathing becoming shallow and fast. Ty felt it like quick, relentless drags on his lungs. “If you’re not now, then you have been.” He clutched at his chest. Or would have, if his fist hadn’t sunk in — punched through his ghost-like body — where his heart would be. “We’ve been together for over a year now. We’ve been together dozens of times.” He shook his head. “Was it all a lie?”

“No.” Ty shut his eyes and reached back to lean on the hotel’s desk, his head feeling light. “No.” God, he didn’t know. It was so hard to think around Aeith. He held his suddenly too-light head, the dizziness making him mentally swim in that liminal space that could as easily tip into breathless euphoria as an aching migraine. He forced himself to take a deep, slow breath. Then another one. Then one more.

He looked up at Aeith, who stared back at him, his clear blue eyes wide and worried. Deliberately, Ty inhaled through his nose before puffing it out through his mouth. He watched as Aeith’s chest swelled with his breath. But, instead of releasing it, Aeith’s body just held it, transmuting air into matter as it added sky blue color to his skin.

Ty smiled. God, Aeith was beautiful. An ethereal being, he should have been untouchable. And he could be. Often moody and aloof, Aeith often liked to live with a flair of drama. He often used it as a way to hold himself apart from it all, as if he were — wherever he was, whatever state he was in — looking down on it all. He liked to flit around the world on his terms, slipping and sliding through it. With a heart of a true thief, he took whatever he liked without ever letting anything or anyone catch or keep him.

Ty wanted to think that he was an exception. That he was the exception. He liked the idea that he held a part of Aeith that no one else did, that no one else could. And, when watching Aeith breathe him in, take Ty’s breath into him and let it make him tangible — touchable — it was easy to let himself believe that. Believe that he was special.

But was he?

“Sometimes being with you scares me.”

The resigned pain in Aeith’s eyes hurt to look at. Sadly, his gaze dropped to the floor. “I would never hurt you.”

Ty knew that. He shook his head. “I’m not scared of that.” He probably should be, but he wasn’t. Aeith would never intentionally harm anyone, much less him.

But even the best intentions couldn’t protect either of them from everything. “When it’s just the two of us, I’m never nervous. When it’s just us, it’s just us.” And it was amazing, perfect. When they were alone, it was so easy to let Aeith become his whole world. To just give over and trust that Aeith would take care of him. When there was no one but them, Ty could let Aeith sweep him up and away into a whirlwind of sensation. Of, yes, anxious fear but also thrilling pleasure. When they were together, there was more than enough to think and feel that there wasn’t space for worries or doubts.

But add anyone else to the equation and everything changed.

Like in the restaurant. Ty shook his head. “But then I see you with other people. How you see them, treat them.” Like they were nothing more than a means to an end. Walking air tanks to be tapped at his convenience. How could that not change, taint, the way he felt Aeith thought of him? How did that not put everything they’ve done — everything they were — together in a different context? How did he not just see himself as Aeith’s favorite tap? “You never ask people before you take from them. You never even seem to care who they are.” Neither Aeith nor Ty had even turned their heads at the restaurant to see who the man hiccupping was. 

Personally, Ty hadn’t wanted to know how old the man was, if he looked healthy or not, if he was there with his partner or family or friends. Ty had deliberately not wanted to know — if, God forbid, something had gone wrong — anything about who this man, whose life was unwittingly and unwillingly in Aeith’s hands, was. It was an intentional, self-shielding choice. Because he didn’t think he could handle the heavy anxiety or guilt otherwise.

But what about Aeith? Did he think about that kind of thing? Did he even care? “Do you ever think about the people you take from?”

* * *

This was why Aeith didn’t usually date humans! They just didn’t get it. He was a being of breath; it literally gave him life. Without it, he became little more than semi-sentient, almost-aware air. Aeith didn’t ask Ty if he ever thought about the cow his steak tonight had been. And that cow had had to die to feed Ty; at least, the people he took from didn’t die.

It was just hiccups!

Aeith wanted to scream it at Ty. Would have, if he thought it would make a difference.

But it wouldn’t. Because humans had thought of themselves as the top of the food chain for too long. They were still learning to live with their fairy tales in their faces. They were still trying to make their nightmares make sense. Trying to fit the fantastic into something mundanely manageable, they were stubbornly determined to live by standards that no longer applied. If they ever really had.

Sylphs had been around longer than humans. Aeith’s grandmother used to tell him stories of how their kind had been born from the universe’s first tentative, but unstoppable breath. The humans were right; his kind were pure magic. An ancient and untamable force of nature.

And Ty wanted him to worry about etiquette and proper table manners! Wanted him to care that some stranger spent one forgettable meal among millions of other forgettable meals mildly inconvenienced.

Well, he didn’t. “I don’t think about them.” Aeith began to pace, feeling perverse pleasure at the way the carpet parted and pressed under the weight and pressure of his steps. “You got me, Ty.” He was just some heartless thief, taking and taking from people without a second thought. But he only took what wouldn’t be missed, so what did it matter? With a swift turn that sliced through the air around him, he shot Ty a look, daring him to take him as he was or leave.

But he stopped and blinked at the sad curve of Ty’s lips. “What about me?” The words were quiet, rough, as if wrenched straight from Ty’s heart through his throat. “Do you ever think about me?”

Aeith almost choked on a laugh. Was he kidding? “You’re all I think about!” Couldn’t he see that? “Why do you think I was stealing breath to begin with?” He shook his head. “I wanted to have a nice night out with you, Ty.” And that was the only way he knew how. It’d seemed so simple, so obvious, at the time.

Except here they were fighting about it. Nice night, indeed.

“Then why not just take from me?” Ty sounded exasperated.

Frustrated too, Aeith scrunched his face, hating this. The awkwardness and discomfort of it all. This was why he didn’t like the hard stuff. It was just so.... hard. He rolled his shoulders. “I don’t know. It’s different with you.”

Ty took a deep breath and sat down on the chair near the desk. “How so?”

Aeith didn’t know. It just was! “That — at the restaurant — you know, it didn’t mean anything. I just needed, you know...” He shrugged. “A little something to keep me going.” Like a sip of water or a snack to tide you over.

There was a long pause with only the sound of Ty shifting in the chair. “And with me?”

Aeith shrugged. “It’s different with you. With you…” He could feel embarrassment course through him, making him both want to drift about restlessly while also weighing him impossibly down on the bed. “You know.”

Ty leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “I don’t.”

He wanted Aeith to say it? Fine! “With you, it matters, okay?” He tucked his feet up onto the bed, hugging his knees close, even as his toes curled and unfurled impatiently. “With you it means something.”

“What does it mean?”

Fuck if he knew! With a snipped sniff, his nose wrinkled as he tried to turn emotions into words. “Usually, it means we’re having sex, I guess.”

“Sex?” Ty’s eyebrows rose and his lips frowned. “It means sex?”

“Great sex.” The best sex. The kind that fed Aeith in a way nothing else could. He rubbed his hands over his thighs, feeling his mass shift along the connecting, still slightly see-through skin with the movement. “With other people, it’s just air, you know. Just breathing. Something I do to live.” To be seen and heard and felt in the human world that wouldn’t let him or his kind hide in the currents any longer. It was little more than the very basics of existing in a world he wasn’t sure people like him belonged in anymore.

But with Ty. Aeith pressed his lips together, trying to find the right words. “But, with you, it’s like having a part of you inside. Like taking this innermost, intimate part of you, that has traveled through the heart of you — the most you part of you — and making it part of me.” Thinking of the same breath, that had filled Ty, filling him made Aeith want to breathe him all in. He rolled his eyes and squeezed his eyes shut, afraid to see Ty’s reaction to that vulgarly vulnerable admission. “That sounds so dumb; forget I said that.”

“I don’t want to forget it.”

Aeith looked up. Ty was frowning still, which made Aeith worry. Had he said something wrong? He’d never been good with words, his or anyone else’s. There was so much nuance there, hidden meanings held within shifting contexts and fluctuating intonation. And there always seemed to be so much, with every statement, that went unsaid. Aeith tried to read Ty but, he’d grown up with a people who couldn’t be seen, often couldn’t be heard, who communicated with shifts in pressure, speeds, and direction; body language, facial expression, and tone were so often completely lost on him.

But, for Ty, he’d try. He watched the man’s frowning lips press together, tiny lines forming around his mouth. In confusion, he recognized. Ty did that sometimes when he was thinking. “So, when we do it, it’s like we’re sharing something special, right?”

Aeith, uncertain where this was going, shrugged then nodded, waving a hand uncomfortably. “I know it sound stupid but, yeah, with us, it’s special.”

Ty’s face flushed. Aeith didn’t know why, but he loved when Ty’s smooth, hazelnut skin did that. He could feel the slight rise in Ty’s skin temperature, the heat like a slight buzz around his cheeks. But there was something mesmerizing about seeing the pink blush bloom, in a way Aeith’s own couldn’t, too. Ty winced. “Is it dumb that seeing you do it at the restaurant — especially, when I’m right there — made it feel less special? Made me feel less special?”

* * *

Oh God, Ty couldn’t believe he’d just said that. What was wrong with him? Even to him, that sounded so insecure and achingly pathetic. But he’d said it and there was no taking it back now. Besides, he had to know.

Aeith’s legs straightened and his feet began to swing. “It’s not dumb…”

“But?” He could hear the word hang in the air between them.

“It takes a lot of air to stay corporeal. Even now…” He shrugged, his legs still kicking. Ty noticed that his feet weren’t hitting the bedspread, so much as Aeith was stopping their swing roughly around the edge of the bed, his feet sometimes sinking and disappearing into the covers. “Without either significant reserves or a constant stream of air, I fade fast. With the amount of air I walked into the restaurant with, I would have barely made it past ordering without taking breath from someone.”

“You snuck some from our waiter.” Ty hadn’t wanted to say anything at the restaurant.

Aeith winced. “You saw that, huh?”

It was subtler than with the hiccupping man. Just a hitch in the waiter’s speech on the specials, almost as if he’d forgotten the practiced spiel for a second. If Ty hadn’t known Aeith so well, he wouldn’t have even noticed.

But Ty did know Aeith. He smiled slightly. “It was smooth, I’ll give you that.”

Too amused with himself, Aeith lips curled too. Only to shake his head again. “But that’s my point. I wouldn’t have gotten through even that, without taking a little something from someone.” He stood up and started to pace the room, his feet barely touching the floor. “And I couldn’t just take it from you all night.”

That’s what he didn’t get. “Why not? I wouldn’t mind.” You know, not exactly. Not given the alternative.

Aeith shook his head. “I don’t want to do that with you.” His nose wrinkled with distaste. “Not like that.” He rolled his shoulders awkwardly. “Not when it feels so impersonal, necessary…” He visibly recoiled from the notion, his whole body rising up off the carpet and away from it for a moment. He huffed. “I don’t want to take air from you because I need it.” He turned to look at Ty, his eyes softening. “I want to want to.” He lifted an overly casual shoulder. “I want you to want it too.”

Ty smiled. “Because I’m different.” Special. Aeith was probably right; Ty wasn’t exactly excited about spending the entire evening hiccupping. But, still. “I want to be there for you.” Ty got up and walked to Aeith. Reaching out, he ran his hand over Aeith’s shoulder and arm, feeling the limb get less and less solid as he moved toward the wrist. He twined his fingers with Aeith’s, the digits feeling like wisp-like wind whirling around his hand. “If you need me, I’m here for you.” He leaned in, pressing his forehead to Aeith’s, and breathed deep.

Inhaling, Aeith leaned in too and gripped Ty’s hand. “You know, I wouldn’t need to take from strangers, if we got together more often.”

Ty rolled his eyes and sighed. “I wish I could.” But they lived three hours away from each other. Even if Aeith flew, it was still a long commute. When they’d first started dating, high on new relationship excitement, they’d done it. Back then, the long drive to Aeith’s had seemed like the beginning of an adventure. He remembered the nerves and anticipation fueling him as he drove. And, even on the long drive home, he’d be cruising on the satisfaction and pleasure of being with Aeith.

But, as time went on — as they both went more and more days without sleep — they couldn’t keep going on like that. And they couldn’t go on like that now.

But, where there was a will, there was always a way. “You know,” Ty said as he pulled Aeith closer, “there is another way to make sure we both make it all the way through dinner.”

Aeith tilted his head curiously. “Oh yeah?”

“Mmhmm.” Ty chuckled low. “You know, I check into the room before heading to the restaurant…”

“Okay…” Aeith shrugged.

“So,” Ty continued, tugging Aeith to the bed, “we have the room.” He sat down on the bed. “And this bed.” He scooched back, pulling Aeith close, between his thighs. “Whenever we want it.”

Aeith’s eyes looked down at Ty’s hardening lap and widened. “Oh.”

Yeah. Ty grinned. “Oh.”

Aeith stiffened a bit. “Are you sure?”

Ty nodded and jerked Aeith forward. “Definitely.” His breath caught when Aeith’s hand touched his chest, the weight of him surprising. He wasn’t heavy, not yet, but more substantial, more present and immediate, than he appeared. Ty’s pulse raced, feeling Aeith’s knee tuck tight between his legs. Ty moaned, when Aeith’s hand untucked his shirt and slipped under the crisp fabric. “Definitely.”

Aeith laughed low. “Good.” He climbed onto the bed, urging Ty further onto the mattress, before straddling him, trapping him beneath him.

* * *

Aeith bit his lip, feeling the hardness of his teeth and the soft give of his lip. You had to love a man with a plan and Aeith could definitely get behind Ty’s.

Trailing his fingers up and down Ty’s chest, he could feel firm bones and muscle under tantalizingly supple squish. He could feel each tiny bump and every strand of body hair against his fingertips. “Tell me what you want.”

Ty’s breath hitched when Aeith touched his nipple, making Aeith’s head spin. Ty licked his lips. “I want you to take me.”

Aeith shivered at those words, feeling the whispered force of them mix with the air around them. His hand pressed against Ty, tantalized by the tangibility. Warm under the touch, Ty was a fascinating mix of textures and Aeith wanted to touch all of him. Take all of him.

And, being this close — breathing Ty in — Aeith could.

So he did. He breathed in, watching Ty’s chest suck in as his own puffed and filled out. Ty’s eyes widened, his dark pupils dilating, and his deep rose mouth moued. Aeith leaned down to unbutton Ty’s shirt, pressing his lips to each three-inch bit of skin revealed by the parted halves. He pushed aside the undone cloth, shoving it to bunch around Ty’s broad shoulders, and stared at his chest.

God, Ty was beautiful. Closing his eyes, Aeith inhaled deeply. Ty was all musky heat and salty sweat. His skin was solid silk beneath Aeith’s fingers. Together, their bodies crackled like a restless sky before a storm. Aeith wanted to rub all of himself over all of Ty. He wanted to take all that heat inside and warm himself with it. He wanted to press against Ty, not pass through him. He wanted to feel and be felt. Wanted to taste and be tasted.

His tongue peeked out to lick the center of Ty’s chest. Reveling in the smell, the taste, the feel of Ty, Aeith slicked his tongue down over Ty’s belly. He nipped him just below the belly button, making the man’s hips buck beneath him on a deep groan. Aeith grinned, wanting more.

He turned around, still straddling him, but facing his feet now. He undid Ty’s pants and boxers and pushed them down over his hips and down his knees. Ty’s cock was long and full but, half-hard, it sat still softly nestled between his thighs, making Aeith want to nuzzle it. “You want me to take you?”

Ty moaned, the sound deep and rich. “Please.” He arched his back, trying to urge Aeith’s weight lower.

But Aeith planted himself over Ty’s middle, placing pressure on Ty’s diaphragm. Not much — not at his current weight, more air than mass still — but enough to make Ty’s chuckle sound a little forced and choked while Aeith wiggled his hips.

Aeith saw Ty’s length swell, shifting to the side. Aeith reached out and gently ran a finger up the length from hilt to head, feeling it and his finger harden with the touch. The friction felt amazing, the sensation strong as it sizzled from his finger through him.

Aeith spent most of his time as wind, wafting wistfully within it. He’d been raised in the air, rarely taking corporeal form. It’d only been when he started going to public schools and interacting with humans that he had to learn tricks in order to hold his form for long periods of time. Even now, Aeith only became solid when he had to. It took effort to stay that way and it was rarely ever worth the effort.

But it was worth it now.

Heady heat radiating from Ty’s body, the man stiffened and arched into Aeith’s touch. Aeith wanted this moment, this sensation, to last forever. He leaned in and breathed again, inhaling Ty’s intoxicating scent as he felt Ty’s chest tighten in reaction.

Aeith had to be careful. To only take so much, so fast. To make sure, while his body and head hummed with Ty, that he never — not even for a moment — put Ty’s safety at risk. So he sipped, when he longed to gulp. Even lost in the pleasure of Ty, Aeith listened, looked, paid careful attention, to make sure Ty could still breathe, even if it was a struggle.

Maybe he shouldn’t, but — heaven help him — Aeith loved it when Ty struggled. It was clear Ty was starting to. His feet were flexed, his legs ramrod straight. His hands were tight fists at his sides while soft, strained sounds slipped, clipped and quick, from his throat. Trying not to lick his lips in sadistic satisfaction, Aeith could hear Ty swallow hard as it became harder and harder to fill his lungs with each stolen breath. Ty’s pants became more frantic as Aeith stroked his fingers over Ty’s now weeping length.

“Aeith.” His name a breathy beg from Ty’s mouth. “Please.”

With a smile, Aeith gripped Ty’s dick in his hand, and bent low, taking him into his mouth. He chuckled at Ty’s moan that was cut off by a choked sound.

* * *

Fuck.

It was hard to think as Ty’s lungs gasped and his heart pounded as if he’d been running. He could feel a flicker of fear — his survival instinct — buzz like locusts in his head, telling him he needed to fight, to throw Aeith off him, to do whatever he had to to get at least one clear, deep breath.

But he didn’t. Didn’t even want to. Instead, he gripped the bedspread in his hands and let that almost electric charge race through him. He shook his head, tossing it back and forth on the pillow. He gritted his teeth while that surging feeling mixed with the pistoning sensation of Aeith’s mouth on his cock. It made him feel overwhelmed, eagerly engulfed, by the dizzying effect.

Ty opened his eyes, staring at Aeith’s bent back. He frowned, a little sad that Aeith was facing away from him. Ty so rarely got to see Aeith’s features so clearly, it seemed a shame not to now.

Not that he was complaining about his current view. Ty stared at the curve of Aeith’s back and ass. Nope, no complaints here. He reached up to touch that arousing arch. “Take off your clothes too.” The words came out in a rush, need for both air and Aeith hurrying him.

Aeith chuckled again, the rumble of sound on his dick making Ty’s hips jerk. Fuck. His fist gripped the waistband of Aeith’s now tactile pants and tugged at them. “Off.” He panted. “Now.”

Still laughing, Aeith released him to take off his specially sylph-made clothes. He settled back onto Ty’s chest. “Better?”

Ty reached out to cup Aeith’s ass, the round cheek full and soft in his hand. “Yes.” Much. Aeith’s sigh made Ty’s hand squeeze as his lungs burned at the sylph’s deep inhale.

Ty felt Aeith’s weight shift as his mass grew denser, pressing down on his diaphragm. Worry tickled Ty’s nerves again, his pulse racing faster as his air-deprived body squirmed in a vain effort to find a comfortable position. Arching up, he felt Aeith’s length, hard and insistent, against him. Sweet Jesus. He gripped Aeith’s ass harder, the blue flesh feeling hot.

Aeith bent low again, taking another deep breath before taking Ty in his mouth once more.

Fear quickly became panic as Ty’s lungs choked on nothing, gasping for air that was just no longer there.

His hand released Aeith’s ass and was about to tap on his hip — their negotiated safe gesture — when suddenly air rushed back to him. Unreserved. Unrestricted. Aeith, lifting his weight — both physically and more intangibly — let Ty have five deep, unfettered breaths. “Ready?”

In a minute. He needed one minute. The flood of sudden air was as shocking, as destabilizing, as the lack of it. Closing his eyes, he licked his lips and took stock, making sure that, physically, he felt all right.

“Take your time. Let me know when you’re ready.”

Ty nodded, but took one more quick breath, as if he were about to dive deep. He supposed, in a way, he was. But before he did. “I want you to touch yourself too, okay?” He wanted Aeith to be as swept up by them together as he was.

Aeith let out a low laugh, his hard cock still sliding against Ty’s chest. “Okay.”

Good. Filling his lungs, Ty nodded once more. Okay. “Ready.”

Then the weight was back, pressing into him and constricting his lungs. And so was Aeith’s mouth, wet and warm around his cock. Damn, that was good. He saw Aeith’s arm bend and his hand dip between his thighs. He felt Aeith’s knuckles rap against his belly as the other man wrapped his hand around his own shaft and stroked. Ty didn’t understand it; he couldn’t feel it himself, but the idea of Aeith’s touch on his own body thrilled him. Part of him longed to drag his body down and swallow Aeith’s length down his already choked throat. But he’d just gotten his breath back and taking on too much, too fast would likely make him black out, would make this moment end far too soon. And he didn’t want that for either of them.

So, instead, Ty gripped Aeith’s thighs, holding him tight to his body, crushing him harder into him. He wanted to be inside Aeith. His cock in his mouth. His breath in his body. His essence, his soul, held and kept with his. For as long as the sylph could hold him.

He stroked along Aeith’s thighs, feeling the muscles flex and tense beneath his fingers. Ty’s thumb traced the delicate crack of his ass, making Aeith giggle and writhe. Ty would have moaned, if he could have, but it was taking all he could to maintain his shallow breathing and strokes.

He grinned. Aeith thought he was so good. That he was the only one who could steal someone’s breath.

But Aeith wasn’t the only one with tricks of his own. Ty liked to think of himself as a man always with a plan.

Dipping his thumb between Aeith’s now firm cheeks, he pressed his thick tip against the man’s tight opening. He heard Aeith whimper as Ty made small circles against the sensitive skin, teasing and coaxing it. Each small, encouraging sound rippled through Ty’s senses urging him on. He pushed, letting the tip of his thumb sink inside the sylph.

Aeith gasped around Ty’s dick, his mouth going slack as air rushed out of Ty into him.

Ty’s chest clenched but, ready for it — aching for it — he smiled. That was it. He thrust his thumb deeper, slowly sliding further inside. Aeith moaned and shivered over him, making Ty feel it along his cock and chest. The sylph’s body stilled and sunk into Ty, but his hand still moved in steady, strong strokes on his own cock. Fuck. Needing more, even while not sure he could take it, Ty plunged his thumb in and out, and in and out, of Aeith.

On a groan, Aeith’s mouth began to move over him again. Nothing could compare to the sight, the sound, and the miraculous feel of Aeith taking him and of him taking Aeith.

He could sense the darkness loom at the edges of his orgasm. As if in a thrilling race, he could feel them try to overtake the other, not sure at all which would crash through him first. His heart was pounding, a loud, unignorable thunder in his head. He blinked furiously, willing himself to stay here, stay in this moment, stay with Aeith.

But, try as he might, he couldn’t. On a panting grunt, Ty came, sensation exploding in white, hot heat within Aeith, emptying everything he had — everything he was — into the other man. The pleasure of it all clawed through him, sinking deep into his senses before dragging him down into the darkness.

His last thought was the sound of Aeith crying out and the wet, warm, climactic shudder of the man’s body over his own.

* * *

“Ty?” Aeith stroked his face. “Ty?” He watched as the other man’s eyes blinked sleepily open. “You okay?”

Ty stretched before wrapping his arms around Aeith. “Okay? I’m fucking amazing.” He held him close, clearly enjoying the press of their bodies together as much as Aeith was. “How are you?”

Aeith smiled, feeling full and satisfied in a way he couldn’t explain. “Amazing sounds about right.”

Ty yawned. “Good.” He pulled Aeith down against his chest before yanking the covers around them both.

It felt so good, being held by Ty. Aeith sunk into the feeling, letting it envelop him. He felt Ty breathe easy behind him, his chest rising and falling and pressing into his back contentedly. Aeith wanted to stay this way forever. He closed his eyes and thoughtfully chewed his lip. Given the amount of air they’d shared, Aeith could likely lie here, held tight by Ty, for hours, maybe even all night. Might, if they were lucky, even make it through breakfast.

But, just to be sure he didn’t disappear before their first cup of coffee, they should probably do this all over again when they woke up. Aeith grinned. Well, if they must, they must, right?

Except. “You know,” Aeith said, snuggling close, “there seems to be a slight hitch in your plan.”

Ty raised a curious eyebrow at him. “Plan? Hitch?”

“Your plan to meet up in the room before we go out to dinner or whatever.” Aeith gestured to them, tucked in tight on the bed. “Pretty sure, if we do that, we’ll never make it out of the room, much less to the restaurant.”

Ty frowned contemplatively, taking his time looking them both up and down. “Huh. Yeah. I can definitely see that. But then again...” He cuddled close, nuzzling Aeith’s neck. “That’s what they invented room service for.”

True enough. Aeith giggled. True enough. He had to give it to Ty, the man always had one hell of a plan.


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More Than Meets the Eye

 

A THING OF BEAUTY

Brindle Davis ducked her head and shut her eyes, feeling far too large for the café booth. She did not want to be doing this right now. There was nothing more humiliating than having an intimately awkward argument with her girlfriend in public.

“Well?” Bloom Fairfield scooted forward on the pleather seat to press against the table, expectantly. “Talk to me.”

Brindle shrugged, her hulking shoulders tense. “I don’t know what to say.” Bloom was dumping their most personal and private issues out on the lacquered table for everyone to see; frankly, what Brindle wanted to tell her was to stop.

At least they were at Faere Trade, a magical café that was used to seeing far stranger things than a couple bickering. Not that that made it much easier for Brindle.

Bloom huffed. “Could you please look at me, while we talk?”

Brindle couldn’t. She wished she could. But she struggled to lift her head, when she swore she could feel the weight of other people’s stares. She tried to tell herself that no one was looking at them, but it felt as if everyone was. Bloom’s gaze alone made Brindle’s shoulders slump in a useless effort to make her massive body small. As someone who did not like to be stared at, Brindle wanted to shrink and disappear into the booth’s creaking cushions.

“Brin?”

Shaking her head in a silent shush, Brindle coughed and sat up straighter when she saw the waitress approach with their drinks. Part of her was grateful for the small reprieve. But, as the waitress set their drinks in front of them, Brindle’s gaze caught on the cafĂ©’s window and her own reflection haunting like a specter there. Not her reflection. Her glamour. The magically applied face she presented to the world. Leaning back, she sat on her large, awkward hands and stared at the strange, petite woman in the window.

Most women — most people — she knew hated their reflections, wishing they could change this and that about their appearance. Brindle wanted nothing more than to look like the rather ordinary-looking brunette she saw staring back at her.

But, staring down at her large, fur-covered body, Brindle knew no amount of magic could do that.

———

Bloom looked at Brindle, who sat across from her in the booth, fiddling awkwardly with the straw in her large, mostly undrunk root beer float. “Well, let’s start with, what do you mean, I’m too beautiful?”

Brindle shook her head. “You know exactly what I mean.” Bloom tried to meet Brindle’s gaze but, no matter how she tried, the other woman wouldn’t. “Look at you.” Brindle shrugged. “Then look at me. You want to know why I don’t really take our relationship seriously?” Brindle pushed back in the booth, the pleather squeaking under her sliding weight. “Well, that’s why.”

Bloom was beautiful.

She’d grown up knowing this. Often — especially in that awkward transition between girl and woman — had cursed it, knowing she had this odd and seemingly irrational power but had no idea how to use it, much less to have it not used against her.

She remembered a boy her age in town who’d professed his love for her every day for a year. He would go on and on about the brilliance of her eyes and the silk of her hair. He’d tell her that her skin was like cream touched by the sweetest honey and her mouth like the lush petals of a rose.

At first, it’d been flattering to go from the knock-kneed girl the boys teased to a woman adored. It’d even been a little bit fun. She’d asked him for favors and gifts, which he would eagerly give. He would do anything she asked, except accept that she didn’t return his affection.

It’d quickly become less fun, when he began to demand her attention and to jealously snap at anyone who threatened to take it from him. Without warning, it’d felt less like he appreciated her beauty and more like he’d assumed he possessed it. Not even her, he hadn’t wanted the whole of her. Just it. That beauty. Even now, she couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment his attention had stopped being flattering and began frightening her, all she knew was that it had.

In the end, it’d taken a pretty ugly act involving his best friend, a kiss, and a black eye to convince him that she wasn’t the girl for him after all. It was a lesson Bloom would never forget. For all the many gifts and privileges having a pretty face provided, there were always drawbacks.

She just never thought this would be one of them.

Bloom shook her head. She was so sick of this argument. “I don’t care what you look like!” She looked at her partner.

No, not her partner, not the real, non-glamoured, no-spells Brindle.

Bloom’s lips thinned at the pretty, but not-too-pretty brunette sitting across from her. She stared into her brown eyes, hating that those weren’t Brindle’s real eyes. Wasn’t even where her face was. She stared at the small woman’s frame sitting across from her, knowing that her girlfriend’s body looked nothing like her glamour’s. Bloom shook her head.

It was all a lie. And Bloom hated it. She didn’t get what the big deal was.

Okay, well, that was a lie.

She did know.

Without her glamour, even among the magical community, Brindle always attracted stares. Bloom knew that the startled gasps and instinctive recoils that were most people’s first reaction tolled on Brindle’s soul. Brindle was well-aware that people took one look at her and saw the embodiment of every monster, every nightmare, every demon, they feared.

Bloom watched the avatar’s head shake. “Do you have any idea how much magic it takes to glamour myself every morning, just so I can walk down the street without being stared at? Which is still better than when I was young and we couldn’t afford to pay for the spells, making it so I couldn’t leave the house at all. I’ve lived my entire life terrified that someone might touch me and discover my secret, since glamours might change how I look but not what I am.”

Bloom knew all that already. They’d talked about it. But damnit! “I just want to be able to hold my partner’s hand!”

Brindle’s eyes rolled. “That’s not all you want.”

Bloom sighed. She wasn’t wrong. “So I want to be able to kiss you and hold you and, yes, make love to you.” Bloom already knew what Brindle really looked like — though getting her to drop the glamour had taken months of building trust too — how could touching change anything? Bloom already knew Brindle’s secret; she longed for a different kind of discovery. “Is that so wrong?”

Arms crossed, Brindle made a disgruntled sound. “We talked about this, when we first started dating. I told you that touch is hard for me.”

Bloom sighed and reached out her hand to Brindle. “I really like you, so hard I can handle.” But they’d been dating for seven months now with nearly no physical contact. “But impossible… I don’t know if I can do that.”

Brindle’s eyes widened, even through her glamour, hurt shone clear in the brown depths. She stared at Bloom’s outstretched hand with distrust. “Are you breaking up with me?”

Bloom’s jaw tightened. “No.” That wasn’t what she wanted. But… “Even if we go slowly — as slowly as you want — I just need to know that it’s possible.” That, together, they’d get there. Someday. “I just need to know that there’s reason to hope.”

Brow furrowed and gaze lowered, Brindle nodded. “I’m good with hope.” The sounds of the cafĂ©, the hum of tens of different conversations and the buzz of the espresso machine and the clink of cups and plates, filled the space between them. Brindle sighed. “But I don’t know if I can guarantee anything.”

Bloom hated the despondent tone in Brindle’s voice. To the point where she almost wanted to just laugh and tell her to forget the whole thing. To assure her partner that what they had was enough for her.

But it wasn’t.

She wished it was.

But she knew that, if she put her own needs aside for Brindle’s sake, she’d start resenting it. Bloom looked around, seeing the other couples there, some cuddling in booths or kissing over coffees. She wanted that. For herself. For Brindle.

She knew that Brindle couldn’t understand — couldn’t even imagine — why anyone would want to touch, to love, her body.

But, when Bloom closed her eyes at night, that was all she thought about. How would their bodies fit together? What would Brindle’s mouth on hers feel like, taste like? What would it be like to make love? Could they even do that? She wanted to know. However long it took, she could wait.

But, if she could never know, if it ultimately wasn’t something Brindle ever wanted, Bloom knew it would be better for her to walk away now. Before she fell too deep. Felt too much.

Before it would break her heart to leave.

If it wouldn’t already.

Bloom instinctively touched her chest as if anticipating that pain.

She shook her head. Maybe this would end and she’d be left with nothing but regret and loneliness. Nothing was guaranteed in life, not even in magical ones. But they weren’t done yet.

So she reached out her hand again. “I’m willing to try, if you are...”

Check out my monster love novella A Thing of Beauty. 

If it looks like a monster & moves like a monster, it must be one, right?

Then why does the human world seem so much more frightening to Brindle? Built like a beast, she never felt like she fit in the world she was born in.

Until Bloom.

Can she and Bloom find a way to live and love together in a world that refuses to see them as they are?

This wlw Beauty & the Beast story explores the realties of loving a monstrous body, from toxic gossip and body issues to defiantly following your bliss and discovering the joys of pervertable sex toys!

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Wednesday, February 17, 2016

Rutting Moon - Part Two

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CHAPTER EIGHT: RUTTING MOON - PART TWO

Russ felt his tongue lengthen like some panting puppy’s, feeling too huge and heavy to fit in his mouth. Did he want to touch her, to look and taste his fill of her? Was she kidding? He didn’t understand how anyone, fucking lucky enough to be allowed this close to her, couldn’t.

But he could feel her body tense before him, could smell nerves begin to temper all that glorious heat coming off her in scintillating waves. So, with one more controlling grip of his demanding dick, he forced himself to slow down. 

He leaned in, but not where he needed — not to the source of that delectable scent. No, instead, he pressed gentle kisses along the back of her thigh, grinning as the limb quivered. He rubbed his cheek against her haunch, feeling the sinfully silken fur against his face. Trailing kisses over the speckles of white dappling her tawny pelt like stars at sunset, he worshiped her body, paid attentive tribute to every inch, until he felt her run hot and wet over his hand still poised over her pussy. 

And, when he was sure she writhed in more need than nerves, he bent low and let his longing tongue loll from his lips, wolfishly dragging it through the heat of her. Fuck! She was all hot, honeyed lust, a rich luxury along his tastebuds. Each lick made him hungrier. With a snuffling groan, he pushed aside her soft fur and softer flesh to nibble her inner labia. At this angle he couldn’t quite get his lips at her sweet clit, so he touched and teased that needy nub with his fingers, eager enough to lap at the arousal that flowed like nectar from her.

“Russ.” Her voice mewled, wrecked and ruined from her throat, as her body practically slithered against him in a sensuous slide. “Please.”

“Please what?” His words were a growl against her heated skin.

“I need you.” She bucked against him.

He pulled her closer, letting his tongue slip into her welcome opening. “I’m right here.”

“I need you to fuck me.”

What did she think he was trying to do? He pressed his tongue further, making her moan.

“I want to feel your cock inside me.”

Fuck. He groaned against her, his thick tongue still half-trapped inside her. He felt that sound echo along her senses as her pussy squeezed him tight. Damn. He felt his blood rush as his dick demanded to know what that would feel like along its length. 

But that scent. Her taste. He wasn’t done with them yet. He wondered if he ever would be. He pulled back to lick her, loving how wet she was, messy with him and her clinging to all that silken skin. “You need my cock?” He ripped his pants open to shove his hand hard against his aching length. “You need this?” he asked on a stroke.

“Fuck, yes, please.” Her body wormed over his. “Please.”

But, even as he clutched his length in his hand, he knew he’d never last. Not after wanting her like this for this long. So, with a firm grip on her fetlocks, he lifted her legs to rest on his shoulders, giving her no choice but to fucking sit on his goddamned face. 

Dreaming of just drowning in her, he pressed his face into her heat and growled, “Not till you come on my tongue.” He pushed his tongue’s full length inside her, hearing her cry out in pleasure, as he fingered her clit furiously. 

Cries, loud and so fucking sweet, fell from her lips as, unsteady, she thrust against the countertop, her fists holding on as she rode him, rode the climax he drank from her like an oasis, for what felt like both forever and not nearly long enough.

Murmuring raspy praise and pressing gentle kisses to her shuddering body, he settled her back on the floor, stroking and holding her as her body shook. It was in that moment, he realized something. “Shit.” He glared at his dick.

“What?” she asked, whipping her head to look back at him.

He looked up at her helplessly. “I don’t have anything.” Why would he? He hadn’t had sex in half a fucking decade and, for a while there, wasn’t entirely sure he ever would again. 

But he’d known — he’d fucking known — he’d fuck Dawn. He hadn’t been entirely sure when or where or how but, from the moment she made it clear that she wanted him back, it’d been an inevitability. Yet he was still as unprepared as a dumbass teen on prom night. Shit.

“Bag,” she panted, pointing at her ever-present satchel. “Condoms. Box of them in my bag.”

Thank fucking Christ for brilliant women!

Russ lunged for her bag, rummaging past clothes and lotions and whatnot until he found salvation. Grabbing a condom, he put it on, not even bothering to completely remove his pants, needing her too badly. 

He glared at his hands, feeling his claws threaten, desperate need making them fumble. In his mouth, he could feel his teeth sharpen, his canines sinking into fangs. Shit. 

Get ahold of yourself, he growled at himself. He was this close to perfection, he couldn’t let his beast fuck it all up at the finish line. Clawing at his shirt, that chaffed and choked, he tore the offending fabric off. He gritted his teeth and fisted his hands.

“Russ?”

Goddamnit! He couldn’t fuck her like this. Not when his animal side was so close to the surface, just under his skin. Not while he had claws and fangs that could scratch and tear all her softness. He couldn’t.

He wanted to take her to bed. Wanted to make love to her for hours, touching her gently, adoringly. Like the man he wanted to be.

“Russ, are you okay?”

You’ll need to be more careful around her but, as you’ve also seen, you can be.

Maybe it wasn’t wise — when had desire ever been wise — but he needed her. Here. Now. He clenched his fists in frustration. Careful. He just needed to be careful — mindful — because, even if he should, he didn’t think he could walk away from this. From her. He needed her, however he could have her. So he deliberately curled his fists, digging pointed claws into his palms. Kicking off his pants and briefs, he came back to her.

“Russ? Is everything all right?”

His mouth not feeling capable of speech, he slowly, gently kissed her flank, his lips pressed tight so his fangs pricked his gums and not her. Even as he did, he felt his need — the uncontrolled urgency of it — ebb, coursing through him rather than threatening to take him over. He kissed her one more time before he gripped her, placing his fisted hands against her haunches, positioning her just right even as he protected her from fingers he couldn’t trust.

God, he could feel her molten core beckon the tip of his dick as he settled against her sex. He teased them both by sliding his full, heavy sex along the length of hers, sliding wetly through her folds. He felt her jerk as his cock brushed her clit. 

“Russ!”

He bent low to growl into the small of her back, feeling all that soft fur along her flank tickle his chest. He ran his knuckles against her, reveling in the living velvet of her. He bucked, pressing her harder against the counter. Her back arching as she moaned made him grin. 

He wanted to hear her ask for his dick again. Wanted to hear filth drip from her tongue like her arousal did onto his cock, smooth and sinfully hot. He wanted her to tell him how she liked to be fucked, hard and fast or slow and lingering. He wanted to fill his ears with the sound of her pleasure, a mad mix of words and noise that would sound like a symphony to his senses.

“Please.” The word was quiet, barely a breath, but so full of need. That one word held multitudes, reaching deep within him, even as she pushed back, forcing his cock to slide into her. He moaned at the sleek dip, feeling her body give to him, letting him sink in. Jesus! It was too good. His balls ached as he bit back his orgasm. No, he wasn’t even fully in her yet. He wouldn’t give up even one second of her unbelievable bliss until he was at least hilt-deep in it. 

So, holding her with his fiercely gripped fists, he pulled out a bit, only to thrust back in, inching closer to destiny. He did it again. And then again. He took her body by tiny, deliciously agonizing degrees, almost getting completely lost in the pleasure and process, until he finally felt the whole of her hold the whole of him. 

“Russ!”

God, the heated stretch of her over him was more than he could take. He needed to move. To grind and thrust into her. He wanted to drive so deep within her that they couldn’t untangle what was him from what was her. Until they were just them, unbroken and beautiful. His fists clenched, feeling blood squelch wet between his sharp-tipped fingers. He clenched his jaw, feeling pointed teeth grind. And, God help him, he didn’t care. Not with the sound and scent and touch and feel of her all over him. 

He felt her rippling climax, heat and friction too perfect to contain, grip him, fill him, holding him hostage until — in a perfect, mind-melting moment — everything inside him spilled out and into her.

“Russ.” His name sounded like prayer, grateful and gratified.

He kissed her back, tasting sweat, salty and slick against quivering skin. “Dawn.” Her name sounded like a miracle from his mouth.


READ PART THREE


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Monday, February 15, 2016

Rutting Moon - Part One

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CHAPTER EIGHT: RUTTING MOON - PART ONE

God, the way Russ kissed her made Dawn dizzy. She gripped his arms, thick and strong, holding on to him, holding him to her. Parting her lips, her tongue touched his mouth, tasting him — like spice and man and something voraciously wild. She felt his hand at her waist grip her harder, the tips of his fingers slipping beneath the hem of her shirt.

“Tell me how to touch you,” he said on a groan, slanting his lips against hers. “Tell me what you like.”

The way he said that, like she was something special, made her shiver in embarrassed arousal. She bit her lip, her teeth scraping over his mouth as well. “Just touch me.”

His hand slid higher up her side, dragging her shirt up with him, the feel of his skin on hers so fucking good it shocked her. “Where?” As he pulled her closer, she could feel the hard length of his sex jut beneath his jeans against her exposed belly.

She stretched against him, seeking his kiss again. “Anywhere.” Everywhere. Impatient, she cupped his face in her hands and pulled him down to her. “Just touch me.”

On a groan, he crushed his mouth against her, like he couldn’t get close enough. Dragging her hands through his hair, her hooves skittered between his legs as she pressed as much of herself against as much of him as she could, curving his huge body over hers. His hands moved to glide over her back, arching her body into his. She whimpered as her breasts, trapped beneath the shirt his roving hands had pulled taut, rubbed over his chest.

He pulled back to look down at her, his amber eyes aflame. Heat flushed her cheeks as he stared at her nipples, clear and needy through the cotton. He wrenched his gaze up to her, the starved look on his face making her gasp. “Can I?”

She nodded, her throat too dry and tight to talk. Yet somehow longing sounds tripped off her tongue as his hands lifted the cotton over her breasts, revealing them like a curtain, before tossing her shirt to the side. For a moment, he just stared at her, taking her in. She held her breath and bit her lip. “Damn.” His voice was pure passion as his thumbs stroked the slight curves of her breasts. “So pretty.” Not letting her go, he dropped to his knees before her, surprising her as he bent her over him so he could press almost reverent lips between her breasts. “So fucking beautiful.” He rubbed his face against the sensitive skin, teasing her with the rough rub of his stubbled cheeks.

Fuck. Her hands gripped his shoulders, needing something strong to ground her. “Russ, please.” She arched her back.

When his mouth closed over her nipple, Dawn felt her knees grow weak, wobbling, even as his sure hands held her up, held her close. Her nails dug in as his slick tongue teased her flesh, making her tail curve almost painfully up. She could feel the full flesh beneath flush with desire. She bit her lip against the clenching need flooding her pussy. “Russ.”

He sucked her deep, the suction on her breast devastating. Trailing kisses from one breast to the other, he murmured filthy, adoring words to her skin. How gorgeous she was. How tempting and sweet. How much he wanted her and for how long, making months sound like forever. He suckled her, caressed her, made her senseless with need. She writhed under his attention, squirming in his steady grasp. “Russ,” she panted, her voice a weak, wanting thing, “I need…”

He kissed her quivering belly. “What do you need?”

A torrent of smut crashed against the shores of her skull, drowning out her ability to speak any of them. So instead, she gripped his face and stared down at him, letting him see the storm blatant and laid bare in her gaze. “You.” She licked her lips. “I need you.”

She shivered as his hands tensed around her and an absolutely untamed growl ripped through his throat. She watched his fist press down against the huge bulge straining his fly. Yes. Fuck, yes. She wanted him to free that thick length and rub it against her, thrust it inside her. Her body wriggled in need.

“God, I can smell you,” he groaned, pressing his nose to her middle. “So fucking hot, you’re driving me crazy.” He nipped her bellybutton, making her yip. “Do you know what that scent does to me?”

She shook her head, swallowing hard. “What?”

His hand slid down her hip to caress her thigh, making the skin beneath her pelt heat with every pass of his worshipful palm. “It’s like it’s calling out to me, begging me to follow it.” He kissed her hip, right where skin met fur, before he urged her to turn for him, maneuvering her against the counter top. Yes. She shut her eyes and gripped the edge of the shined surface, pushing herself back, ready to feel his hard body press back.

But he didn’t. Instead, he stayed on his knees and just stared at her, his hands gentle but firm on either side of her haunches.

She squirmed under his gaze. He was so close. Just staring at her body. At the most intimate parts of her. She tensed.

He stroked her. “You okay?”

She bit her lip. “Aren’t you going to—” She flushed, her gaze flickered down to his hard-on. “Don’t you want to…”

Still looking into her eyes, he palmed himself again, pressing against his own need. “I want to.” But then his gaze, as if drawn, dropped down to her sex again. “But that scent.” He moaned and leaned in, his nose ruffling the fur between her legs. “I’ve been dreaming about this for so long.” Shutting her eyes, she gasped as she felt his nose root lower, touching skin she knew was slick with want. She felt his thumb reach in to part her lips, spreading her pussy open for him. Her body clenched as he inhaled deep. “Let me. Please. Just for a bit.”

She writhed, embarrassed by his nearness even as it turned her on. “No one’s ever…” Her voice trailed off.

He stiffened. “I thought you said you’ve done this before.”

Her hooves shuffled, making him stroke her soothingly. “I have.” She’d thought she had, but never like this. “It’s just no one’s ever done that. To me.” She’d read about it, of course. With other women. Human women. It was just… the men she’d been with before, even the kind and considerate ones — maybe especially them — had never needed to get too close to her like that. Never needed to look too closely at her body, not like Russ was, more content to engage with the parts of her they were more familiar with. They were always happy enough to find their pleasure in a fast, heated ride that left them both breathless. 

But Russ was… exploring her, touching her like treasure he wanted to plunder, like some temptation he wanted to taste. She bit her lip. “I just…” She squirmed. “You don’t have to; I don’t need it.” God knew, she was hot enough, even without foreplay.

He studied her face for a long moment. “You don’t need it;” he said, testing the words in his mouth, “do you want it?”

She shrugged. Did she? With his hand still holding her open to him and his face fucking breaths away from her flushed flesh, she felt exposed. Keenly seen. But by Russ, which made all the difference. There wasn’t a part of her, inside or out, she didn’t trust him with, knowing he’d treat it — treat her, the whole of her — with care. So, slowly, she nodded. “If you do.”


READ PART TWO


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