by M. D. Grimm
Trystan blinked. There was a finality in his tone, an authoritative edge that had Trystan’s gut tightening.
Asagoroth narrowed his eyes. “Do you understand?”
Trystan thought he did. If things were to run smoothly in all the realms, Trystan had to stay with Asagoroth. Not that he really planned on leaving, but now Trystan understood Asagoroth wouldn’t allow him to. Trystan was well and truly stuck with the dragon.
He found himself not minding. Not one little bit.
“I’m with you and you’re with me,” Trystan said. “I understand.”
Some of the ferocity in those blue eyes left and a warmth replaced it, a tender warmth. They kissed slowly, lovingly.
Then Asagoroth stood and set Trystan on his feet. Asagoroth stroked a finger down his cheek.
“Fly with me.”
Before Trystan could answer, Asagoroth was in the air, his black leathery wings easily holding him aloft. He flew with enviable ease and grace, even though he wasn’t in his original form, and his erection was still full and hard. Trystan grinned, knowing this was a different sort of foreplay. It was a mating dance.
Trystan launched into the sky and darted away even as Asagoroth reached for him. With a loud bark of laughter, Asagoroth gave chase. Trystan swept around the columns, through passageways and chambers, his heart beating with excitement, Asagoroth always hot on his heels.
Cool wind swept under his wings as Trystan swung around an enormous, meticulously carved pillar, and flew up, hiding near the ceiling. Asagoroth was right behind him and jerked to a stop in a moment of confusion. Trystan grinned. It was interesting to see the great dragon confused. Asagoroth looked down, then up, and those blue eyes gleamed. Trystan laughed and flew away, feeling the heat of Asagoroth underneath him. He was breathless now, due to the exertion and his own laughter. He could only remember one other time he’d played chase in his life—as a child with Annalise. It was only once and far too short, but the memory of that time always stayed fresh and bright in his mind. Now he had an even brighter memory to accompany it.
Trystan glanced behind to see Asagoroth within arm’s length, a wide, wide smile on his face. They flew along the top of the chamber where walls met ceiling. Trystan panted, knowing he slowed but unwilling to give up. His ankles were grasped even as he was about to dive, and his breath whooshed out as he was tugged firmly back. Spinning around, his wings faltering, he never felt a moment of fear. Asagoroth locked his strong arms around Trystan’s waist, and he knew his own grin was wide.
Asagoroth kissed him hard, thrusting his tongue inside, his onyx body radiating heat and energy. He truly was a living flame. Trystan gripped tight, soaking up his heat. After spending all his life cold, like a marble pillar or one of the glass and steel spires of Emphoria, it was intoxicating to be surrounded by fire. He’d never known true heat until now, had never felt it from anything but the sun and a warming fire. Now he had it in this dragon.
This demon.
Their wings flapped together, sometimes brushing against the other. The intimacy, the trust, it was beautiful and unexpected. Trystan could never have imagined anything like this, not in his wildest fantasies.
Asagoroth suddenly wrenched his mouth away and spun Trystan around. Trystan gripped part of the molding as Asagoroth slipped down his back, his mouth creating a hot trail between his wings, to the top of his ass. Then into his ass. Trystan gasped and looked down, needing to see if what he was feeling was correct. It was. Asagoroth held his hips and proceeded to lick and nip him intimately. Shuddering at the violation, Trystan loved every second of it. His wings fluttered jerkily, but he spread his legs and raised his knees, giving Asagoroth as much access as he wanted.
A satisfied growl rumbled through Asagoroth’s chest. You satisfy me like nothing ever has.
Trystan groaned, his erection growing hard once again.
Asagoroth pushed his wicked tongue inside him, stretching him. Trystan cried out but never fought, never even thought to. He’d already given himself to a demon; he could do no worse by allowing the demon to do what he pleased, how he pleased. After tormenting him until Trystan wondered if his wings could hold him up, Asagoroth finally moved back up his body.
Shimmer your wings, my love.
Trystan panted, leaning against the wall, his grip on the molding still firm. He hesitated.
Trust me. I will never let you fall.
Trystan took a deep breath and shimmered his wings insubstantial. Asagoroth hugged him from behind, Trystan’s back against his chest. Asagoroth beat a steady pulse in the air with strong wings and never seemed to falter, no matter how much pleasure he felt. Asagoroth bent his legs, causing Trystan to sit on Asagoroth’s lap, his large erection sliding along Trystan’s back.
“Are you ready?” Asagoroth said with a growl against Trystan’s ear before kissing it.
Trystan nodded, unable to speak. His body still shook with pleasure, his skin singing with warmth and sensation. He knew there would be no bruises on his skin anywhere. Asagoroth handled him with infinite care.
Trystan knew what to expect; he wasn’t completely naïve. And he wanted it. By the Light Bringer, he wanted it to his very core.
Asagoroth slowly pushed inside him, and Trystan forced himself to relax. The stretch, the burn, and the realization he was becoming one with the dragon helped maintain his pleasure, helped him push back the discomfort. He was going against everything he’d been taught, everything his people believed.
Trystan’s eyes popped open.
Asagoroth continued to push slowly inside, but Trystan had other ideas. He took a deep breath and shoved down, pushing the entirety of Asagoroth into him. Asagoroth gasped and gripped Trystan’s hips hard enough to bruise. There was a spike of pain, but the knowledge he was rebelling against those who tried to make him feel worthless, that he was being fucked by a dark force of nature, wanted by a great dragon, made the pain worth the price.
“Trystan—”
“Move, move, Asa. Please, Light, move!” Trystan began to move himself, inexpertly, but at that moment, he didn’t care he looked awkward and inelegant.
Asagoroth growled low and deep and bit the back of Trystan’s neck, deep enough to leave a mark. Trystan yelped. Asagoroth began to thrust hard, deep, slow at first, but soon moving faster. Trystan didn’t bother to keep silent. He cried out with each thrust, his cries soon becoming sobs. Asagoroth grunted with each penetration, his mouth never leaving Trystan’s neck. He licked, he nipped, he kissed. Trystan knew it was possession, plain and simple. Asagoroth wanted his scent, his essence, to cover Trystan, to make it known to any being in the cosmos that Trystan belonged to the dragon, the demon commander.
The torment continued, Trystan’s entire body sensitized to every movement, becoming raw from the penetration but just on the edge of painful. Then the pressure in Trystan’s head intensified, and pleasure not his own suffused his mind, his body. Asagoroth’s presence was right there, inside his mind like as it had been in Emphoria. But this time he felt everything, and he knew Asagoroth could feel his own pleasure. He couldn’t handle the sensations that built and built, threatening to cause him to explode.
Sweat coated his body, and he could barely retain his grip on the moldings.
“Asa,” Trystan sobbed, not knowing what he wanted but knowing only Asagoroth could give it to him. His own erection was painful and leaking.
Asagoroth pressed up tightly to him, one arm around his neck, the other around his waist. He changed the angle of his thrusts, and Trystan’s eyes rolled up into the back of his head. After only a few thrusts at the new angle, which turned Trystan’s bones to jelly, Asagoroth reached down and gripped Trystan’s erection, squeezing once, jerking once. It was all it took.
“Mine,” Asagoroth said.
Trystan heard that one word even as he exploded.
Chapter Ten
Trystan woke up and realized he was being carried. His head lay on Asagoroth’s shoulder, his legs on either side
of Asagoroth’s waist, one strong hand under his bottom, the other wrapped around his back. Leathery wings rose up before his eyes and dragged with a whisper of sound over the stone floor. Trystan looked around to see they were heading down a wide corridor, one without walls but massive columns that held up the looming ceiling. He could barely make out the stars and gaseous clouds in the Beyond far past the columns. Where was Asagoroth taking him? Trystan didn’t recognize this place. Though, granted, he knew very little about this temple.
Wrapping his arms around Asagoroth’s shoulders, Trystan sat up and looked at Asagoroth’s face.
“You are well?” Asagoroth’s voice rumbled out of his chest, vibrating against Trystan’s own. That voice did not belong to that body.
Trystan nodded, boldly sliding his fingers along one of Asagoroth’s horns. He caught a small smile on Asagoroth’s face.
“Do you dislike them?” Asagoroth asked.
“No,” Trystan said softly. “I… I like them. They’re different.” Asagoroth chuckled and Trystan smiled. “I’m so used to angels,” Trystan continued, feeling loose and, for the first time in his life, free. “I’m used to cold and distance. You’re—”
Trystan stopped, realizing Asagoroth was listening to him intently. His bright eyes were firmly focused on Trystan’s face, his head tilted slightly in interest. Trystan had never had anyone’s undivided attention before, not like this. Not even with Annalise.
“I’m what, Trystan?” Asagoroth whispered.
“Warm,” Trystan said on a breath of sound. Impulse had him cupping Asagoroth’s face in both hands. The heat of Asagoroth caressed his skin. He shivered. “You’re warm, Asagoroth. Hot. I see the flames between your scales when you move. I see them when I look into your eyes. You are so different from what I’m used to.”
“I’m glad,” Asagoroth said. He leaned forward and nuzzled Trystan’s neck. Smiling, Trystan closed his eyes and slid his hands over Asagoroth’s horns before continuing down the back of his head.
And still Asagoroth walked down the corridor, carrying Trystan somewhere unknown.
“You smell good,” Asagoroth said, his lips moving against Trystan’s skin. “You taste good. You feel good.” He tightened his arms around Trystan. “By the cosmos, I missed you so much.”
The emotion was raw in Asagoroth’s voice, and a lump formed in Trystan’s throat.
It’s not me he missed.
To distracted himself, he asked, “Don’t you need to eat something?”
“I ate after I left Emphoria, when I knew you were safe in the rubble. I had to make it quick but it was enough to sustain me.”
“Where did you go?”
“The Middle Realm. The beasts there are quite delicious.”
They suddenly began to descend. Trystan realized they were walking down stairs, and what light there was began to fade, growing steadily darker. But instead of growing colder, it grew warmer, the air heavier.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” Asagoroth’s eyes glowed in the darkness. They were so beautiful. Once again going with impulse, Trystan kissed him, warm lips pleasant against his cold ones. A rumble of satisfaction came from Asagoroth’s chest as he pushed his tongue into Trystan’s mouth. Sighing, Trystan focused on the kiss and let the comfort and pleasure of it wrap around him, infuse him.
A pale light began to shine against his eyelids, and he pulled away, opened his eyes. The walls were glowing? How could the walls be glowing?
“They are tiny creatures,” Asagoroth said, reading his mind. “They flourish in the dark.”
Trystan looked around to see they had entered a large cavern with rough stone walls, floor, and ceiling, but his attention was caught by the massive black pool of water carved into the center of the floor. Steam curled up from it, indicating the water was warm.
Asagoroth stopped by the water’s edge. “I’m glad you are cool to the touch.”
Trystan looked at him.
Asagoroth’s eyes gleamed, a wicked smile on his face. “I do enjoy warming you up.”
Trystan grinned, his face heating with memory. Asagoroth suddenly brushed his intimate opening with his long fingers, and Trystan jumped in surprise. Laughing softly, Asagoroth shimmered his wings intangible and stepped into the water. Trystan gasped at the heat that was almost too hot.
“Relax, give it a moment,” Asagoroth murmured, taking them deeper. The water soon lapped around their chests, and it wasn’t long before Trystan acclimated and felt the heat seep into his skin, almost touching his bones. He moaned in pleasure and pressed his cheek against Asagoroth’s, a gesture of affection his sister used to share with him.
A rumble, like a purr, came from Asagoroth’s chest as he gently stroked Trystan’s back. But then he gradually let go, and Trystan panicked for a moment since his feet couldn’t touch the bottom.
“Easy, love.” Asagoroth gripped his arms to steady him. “Just move your feet and arms slowly back and forth. The water will hold you up if you let it.”
Trusting his word, Trystan did as suggested and was surprised to realize he easily floated. The only pool of water he’d ever seen was in the Center Garden, and he had certainly never considered swimming in it. Angels were meant for flying, not swimming. But this felt very nice.
Nodding in approval, Asagoroth swam a little bit away before dunking completely under the water. Heart pounding, Trystan couldn’t see him. The water was too dark and the light too faint to see below the surface. He twisted his head around, but little good it did.
“A-Asagoroth?” he said.
Something suddenly tickled his feet, and he jumped, nearly losing his rhythm to stay afloat. But then it came again and he recognized those fingers. Asagoroth, the great dragon, could be playful. Who knew?
Giggling, Trystan tried to swim away, but he didn’t know how best to move, and Asagoroth wouldn’t let him escape that easily. The tickling continued, crawling up his body, and he soon lost his rhythm and dunked below the surface. For a moment he panicked, holding his breath, but Asagoroth brought his strong arms around Trystan from behind—protective arms—and lifted him easily to the surface. Gasping in air, he clung to Asagoroth’s arms and noted the stark difference of their appearance. He had noticed it before but for some reason, at that moment, he was struck by the paleness of his own skin and the obsidian black of Asagoroth’s. Trystan was delicate with the appearance of fragility. But Asagoroth…. He was beautiful, but in a different way; power radiated from him as surely as his heat. He looked unbreakable, a solid, unwavering force that conquered and devoured.
So different and yet… they seemed to match each other. Two sides of the same coin. Perfect opposites.
Trystan shook himself. What an odd thing to think about. But that thought brought back the memory of the demon and angel soldier and how they had avoided harming the other, how they had separated and the look of relief on the angel’s face. Angels and demons hated each other, but… why did he feel so good with Asagoroth? Was it simply because he was once Roland?
“You always did look good wet,” Asagoroth said, breaking up his thoughts.
Snorting, Trystan tilted his head back, looking into Asagoroth’s amused face. “You mean to say I don’t look good dry?”
Asagoroth grinned, pale teeth gleaming. “You always look good, my love. But especially when you are naked and wet.”
Laughing, Trystan tried to wiggle free, but Asagoroth had other ideas. He cupped Trystan’s balls with one hand, and the other grabbed his shaft. Sucking in a sharp breath, Trystan pushed back against Asagoroth, biting his lip.
“Asa—”
Bending his head down, Asagoroth nibbled at his neck, and Trystan tilted his head to the side, giving him more access. Trystan reached back and wrapped his arm around Asagoroth’s thick neck, trying to find some leverage, something solid to hold on to as pleasure spiraled through him once again, brought on by Asagoroth’s insistent touches.
“I must give you pleasure,
” Asagoroth murmured, his strokes becoming faster. “To make up for time lost.”
Panting, Trystan let out a moan that was perilously close to a whimper. “Asa, I want… I want to touch you. Please.”
He didn’t know when he became so bold, but the desire was there, and he couldn’t shake it. Asagoroth touched him so freely, and Trystan wanted the same freedom. He wanted to touch and taste and to take. He wanted to give Asagoroth pleasure.
A deep groan issued from Asagoroth as he moved them back to a shallower part of the pool. Trystan’s feet touched the bottom, and he turned in Asagoroth’s arms, his erection hard and aching. But he didn’t want release yet. Asagoroth stared down at him, slipping his hands over Trystan’s wet skin.
Asagoroth leaned down and pressed their foreheads together. “Then touch me, Trystan. Do what you will with me. I can deny you nothing.”
Trystan’s breath caught. What Asagoroth was offering was far more than he ever thought he’d have in his life. Asagoroth kissed Trystan’s palm, the scarred one, his lips achingly tender. Trystan swallowed hard and took Asagoroth’s hand, returning the favor by kissing his palm. Asagoroth’s eyes flared, but he made no move toward Trystan, letting him set the pace. Trystan smiled.
Trailing his hand up the steely arm, Trystan traced the shape of Asagoroth’s muscles with his fingers, felt their firmness. He shivered to know Asagoroth was capable of such viciousness, and yet he could tickle his feet and touch him so tenderly. Trystan continued to slide his hand along Asagoroth’s broad shoulder and to his neck. Asagoroth watched him, his eyes unreadable. Trystan laid his palm flat against Asagoroth’s chest, right above his heart.
“Do you mind?” he whispered.
“Never,” Asagoroth said, equally quiet. “You touch me, which means you do not fear me. You want me, Trystan. I give myself to you, just as you do to me.”
Trystan swallowed hard again. Overwhelmed, he laid his head on Asagoroth’s chest and wrapped his arms around his waist. He closed his eyes and spoke truth.
“But I do fear you, Asagoroth. I can’t help but be afraid. Your true form is terrifying and magnificent and… so much more than what I am. You’re a demon with fire in his veins, and I’m an angel with ice in mine, and….” He shook his head. “I don’t know what I’m saying.”