by Marie Harte
Morgan stood tall and whipped his shirt from his body, startling Kisho from his musings.
“What the hell are you doing?” Holy shit, Morgan was ripped. Corded abs, solid pecs, and biceps bigger than his own. The thought of dominating Morgan didn't intrigue him as much as the fantasy of being dominated by him. Hell. He was getting hard again.
Morgan licked his lips. “I want to get bare bones with you, that's all. Man-to-man. Come on, kitsu, bring it on.”
Had he just called Kisho kitsu? Again? Before Kisho could second-guess, Morgan attacked.
His reflexes saved him, but only just. Surprised, Kisho balanced himself on the balls of his feet, his knees bent, ready. He met Morgan's next two advances, dodging and then striking out with a kick that rocked Morgan on his ass. Before Kisho could take advantage, Morgan was on his feet again.
Kisho raised a brow. “I'm trying to take it easy on you, because I know that handicap makes it difficult to fight back.”
“Handicap?” Morgan questioned between breaths. He darted in and feinted left, striking to Kisho's right. His fist grazed Kisho's waist, and Kisho couldn't help being impressed.
“Your small brain.”
Morgan laughed. “Yeah? Well, at least I'm not letting my hard-on distract me.” Kisho automatically looked down to see Morgan wasn't lying—the brawler had a large erection. He caught Morgan's fist aimed at his gut and spun the male around, so that Kisho's cock pressed against Morgan's fine ass. “Easy, Morgan. Or I'll think you don't like me.” Morgan groaned and rocked back. “If I didn't like you so much, I wouldn't be this close to coming in my damned shorts.”
With incredible speed and flexibility, Morgan somehow managed to break out of Kisho's hold and reverse his position, so that they stood chest to chest.
Morgan shifted, and his cock grazed Kisho's.
Staring into green eyes that suddenly flashed from emerald to a darker, mossy green, Kisho was unprepared for Morgan's next move. The kiss took him by surprise, and he opened his mouth to protest.
That quickly, Morgan snaked his tongue inside, and the taste of raw male and sweet orange shot Kisho's libido into overdrive.
He couldn't think as Morgan took charge of the kiss. His beast settled happily under the aggressive male, not protesting in the least, which further put Kisho under Morgan's spell. The recognition that had sparked the first time they'd touched was nothing compared to the inferno of lust and need that swamped him now.
Morgan groaned and rocked against him, rubbing that massive erection against his own.
Needs long denied rushed him, this mating act so different from the sexual desires he slaked with his teammates. This was so much more.
He drew Morgan's scent into his mouth, into his beast, and purred when Morgan ran his hands over his chest.
Morgan broke the kiss to growl, “You're cut. So fucking hot. Christ, I need you.”
He yanked Kisho's T-shirt over his head and kissed him again before Kisho could think to protest. Worry about the future, about his control, about his plans to seduce the truth from Morgan—everything faded as sheer desire overwhelmed him.
To his shock, he trembled in Morgan's hold, confused, hungry, and so desperate to connect.
“Yeah, that's it, kitsu. Give me more,” Morgan whispered and licked his sensitive nipple.
When Morgan put his lips there and sucked on the hard nub, Kisho felt as if he'd split apart from the sheer ecstasy of his touch. A rush of precum dampened his shorts, and he ground against Morgan's cock.
“So hungry. Need you now,” Morgan muttered against his mouth. The large man slid down his body. Morgan yanked down his shorts, then took Kisho to the back of his throat.
Unable to do anything but react, Kisho fought the verge of change when Morgan cupped his sac and eased a finger near his hole.
The fire of desire overwhelmed him. A mixture of orange and cinnamon filled the air.
Every breath he took tasted like Morgan. As he gripped Morgan's silky hair, he lost himself in the male's embrace.
Morgan slid his tongue around Kisho's shaft and sucked hard. His finger left Kisho's ass for a moment, then returned, slick and hot, and slid inside.
Fuck, he used his own cream to lube. God, I'm so close…
Morgan moaned and shoved his finger deeper. Prodding, pushing, until he grazed that sweet spot that sent Kisho reeling.
“Morgan, please. Yes,” he moaned, climbing too fast toward his end.
In response, Morgan rumbled his pleasure and sucked harder, thrusting his finger in and out with greater speed.
The feeling of belonging, the union of scent and touch and male, pushed Kisho over the edge. “Morgan.” He unloaded into Morgan's hot mouth on a groan. He came hard, shuddering as he emptied his seed.
Morgan swallowed, and Kisho felt a moment of dizziness as the unreality of the situation shook him. He was purring so loudly it couldn't be missed, but he wasn't finished. His beast demanded he take what belonged to him. Light-headed, he pulled out of Morgan's mouth and sank to his knees.
The sight of Morgan licking his cum from his lips sent him into a frenzy. Kisho shoved Morgan to the floor mats beneath them and sliced his shorts from his body. The long, wet cock that met his gaze turned him on like nothing else.
Kisho devoured him.
“Oh, fuck. Kisho.” Morgan moaned his name like a prayer.
Kisho sucked hard, fast, and licked the sweet precum from his lover's dick, purring all the while. He distantly heard Morgan cry out his name, felt the man tremble and clutch his shoulders with strong fingers, tight enough to bruise.
And then Morgan came, jetting into his mouth with such sweet, hot cum.
Kisho sucked him dry, laving his shaft and balls, nuzzling the musky scent as he captured Morgan's essence and strove to keep it deep inside him.
The taste of his mate forced his arousal to the fore again. Going on instinct, Kisho shoved off his shorts and levered himself to his knees, now completely naked as he straddled Morgan.
“So beautiful,” Morgan rasped.
Kisho started jerking himself off, growing larger and thicker under Morgan's scrutiny. But Morgan wasn't content to watch. He caressed Kisho's belly, his balls, and rimmed his asshole.
And all the while he whispered words of praise and need that soothed the beast preening for attention. When Morgan pushed Kisho's hand aside and gripped his cock, Kisho exploded into a second, harder orgasm.
He grunted and shot over Morgan's belly, white jets of seed marking his mate.
“Rub it in,” Morgan said in a thick voice. “All over me.”
“Mine,” Kisho growled, his beast staking its claim.
“My kitsu…” Morgan murmured.
Kisho didn't hesitate. He leaned down and kissed Morgan, but the slight press of his fang over Morgan's lip drew blood. The taste of sweet copper told him what he'd already known.
Morgan Reynolds was his mate. His partner.
His future.
Reason returned, and Kisho groaned.
Morgan was all that, and more. Morgan was his doom.
Chapter Four
Morgan lay there, trying to regain his wits, as Kisho fumbled with his clothing. Agitated and fierce, like the beast that writhed beneath his skin, the Circ just begged for Morgan to say to hell with everything and claim him. But he had a plan and an agreement to keep, so he'd bide his time. He'd wait, if not with patience, at least with the surety he'd found what he'd been so long in searching.
Sighing with contentment, Morgan linked his hands behind his head and watched his lover shove his arms through his shirt. “Where are you going?” Kisho glared down at him but said nothing.
Morgan could almost see the wheels of his kitsu's mind churning. Right now, Kisho had to be wondering what the hell to do. For years, Morgan had kept quiet tabs on the man. He was familiar with the way Kisho thought. Deliberate, decisive, straightforward: Kisho Hayashi dealt with life the way he wanted it dealt to him.
Growin
g up as an unwanted bastard on the streets of Okinawa had given him a hard shell, one that would be tough to crack. But Morgan lived for challenges. Hell, he'd been born to create friction, as his parents were fond of saying. Morgan always conquered obstacles in his path.
He had an innate gift for self-preservation. He should have died several times over during the course of his lifetime, but something—or someone—had always kept him tied to the here and now. He healed from mortal wounds. He never scarred and had never suffered from so much as a cold. Those closest to him, those people who were important to him, kept him grounded.
He knew there were some, like him, like his family, who were simply more. People like Fallon who could pull secrets from the mind, and Olivia who could read emotions. They could pose a danger to him if he let them. But Morgan refused to allow anything to threaten what he considered his. His family, his friends, his lover.
Nothing in his life had ever mattered as much as making sure he didn't lose Kisho.
“Aren't you going to get dressed?” Kisho asked in a quiet voice.
The quiet Morgan didn't mind. But the careful tone alerted him to pay attention. He deliberately stretched and rubbed his stomach, pleased to feel the sticky residue of Kisho's marker. “I'm basking in the afterglow. Gimme a minute.” Kisho frowned. “I need to…” He glanced toward the door, then back at Morgan, his gaze fixed to Morgan's hand on his belly. His dark eyes lit from within, and Morgan swore he saw an animal staring out at him.
So fucking sexy, that beast. Hearing Kisho purr while they'd blown each other had been heaven and hell, because it made Morgan hot and so hard, he hurt. He'd wanted to come while sucking off his lover, that huge cock that tasted like warm cherries in his mouth.
Kisho cleared his throat. “We're supposed to be fighting, not fucking. Tuck your hard-on away.”
“Morgan. Tuck your hard-on away, Morgan. Say my name.” Kisho scowled. “I know your name.”
“But you have a hard time saying it unless you're coming in my mouth,” Morgan provoked. “What's wrong, baby? Afraid your boyfriends will see me and get jealous? Don't worry. I can handle them.”
Anger crossed his face, and Morgan realized that in the short span of time he'd actually spent with Kisho, he'd never seen the Circ broadcast so many emotions. The stoic features of perfection looked even better creased in confusion or darkened in anger.
“They're not my boyfriends, Morgan. They're my friends, my brothers.”
“Really? Kind of an incestuous relationship you have going on there.” Kisho jumped on top of him and wrapped a hand around his throat before Morgan could blink. Good Christ, the man could move.
“Watch your tone,” Kisho growled, exposing a hint of fang.
He knew it wasn't smart, but Morgan couldn't help antagonizing him. Anything to shake up his lover's well-ordered world. He rasped, “Watch your tone, Morgan.”
Kisho swore. To Morgan's surprise, Kisho removed his hand and mashed his mouth against Morgan's in a kiss that sparked instant heat. But as soon as the fire started, Kisho backed away, wiping a smear of blood from his lips as he stood.
Morgan licked the coppery taste from a cut on his mouth and contained a shudder. Damn, his kitsu could kiss. Even brutal, the connection between them flamed hotter than ever. The tent in Kisho's shorts and the answering arousal paining his own groin said what neither man would.
That the connection between them went deeper than normal lust.
Noise outside the gymnasium sounded, and Kisho froze.
The animation that had previously lit his face faded. Kisho's expression cleared, suddenly resembling a blank wall. “I need to talk to Mrs. Sharpe. I'll see you later.” He left Morgan for the double doors and had just reached the exit when he added, “And stop calling me 'kitsu.'” He pushed through the doors and disappeared.
Morgan stared down at his overeager dick and wondered how the hell he got into these situations. The plan had been to seduce Kisho slowly. Some time alone, a few dinners, maybe some walks on the beach.
Instead, he'd lost his mind being so close to the object of his desire. Going down on his little fox— big misnomer there—had been the best thing in his life. Salty sweet, that cum addicted him like nothing else. It spoke of a need, of a hunger for Morgan that his lover couldn't hide, no matter how much he might want to.
This whole mission revolved around finding Colonel Montaña and Captain William Delancey, at least so far as the Circs were concerned. But Morgan had arrived on an altogether different agenda. He'd come to claim what Alicia had started when he'd turned sixteen. She'd given him that damned jade fox as a birthday present and changed his life forever.
The small memento from some forgotten trip abroad promised a love he'd kill to experience. So many years ago, yet he could still remember the feeling, when the instinct long dormant inside him had blossomed in seconds, telling him that the person who possessed the figurine's twin was his.
Growing up surrounded by a loving family made Morgan no stranger to affection. He recognized the close ties the Circs here had for each other. The annoyed yet protective way Ava treated Alicia, the loving, sexual heat in Olivia's eyes for Fallon. All of it felt real, and he ached to feel it for one special person.
Except his lover seemed less than inclined to meet him halfway. A better man would try to soften Kisho's edges, to show him with tender loving, and time, that Morgan could be trusted to hold his heart.
But Morgan didn't have time.
Finding Kisho nearly dead two months ago still haunted him. Instinct had led him to seek out Alicia sooner than he'd intended. And thank God for that. He'd been born for that moment, to heal his future mate and tie them even tighter together. By sharing a breath with his other half, by sharing the very essence of what made him what he was in a kiss, he'd jumpstarted Kisho's own healing abilities.
But now what? He still had to find Montaña. Morgan didn't think of his skills as psychic, not like Alicia's Circs. He couldn't predict the future, read minds, auras, or turn into a hulking killing machine. But his instincts never failed. Morgan simply followed the course set for him and didn't stray. Unfortunately, Kisho screwed with his reasoning.
He should have allowed the man some time before jumping him. Three days wasn't all that long to get acquainted. Still, their raw loving had soothed that ache building inside him. Despite Kisho's obvious upset, Morgan felt boneless, sated, and on the verge of falling asleep, naked as the day he was born.
“Oh man, I could have lived my entire life without seeing this,” Tersch groaned from the doorway.
“Looks like we missed quite a party.” Fallon grinned at the torn clothing by his side.
Morgan slowly stood and stretched. “Yeah, Olivia's a real devil in bed.” Between one blink and the next, he dodged Fallon's fist. “Or so I've heard. How the hell would I know? I just thought I'd enjoy your gymnasium to the fullest.”
Kisho was going to love knowing his buddies had caught Morgan naked, with his scent all over him. Now how to use that to my advantage…
Tersch loomed over him, his gaze considering. “Smells like someone fucked you over good.”
Morgan wasn't fast enough to avoid Tersch, who suddenly gripped him by the throat and dangled him off the ground. Choking for real, Morgan clutched Tersch's thick arm.
“You screw with my boy, I'll tear your fucking head off.” He dropped Morgan to the ground.
“Right. Got it.” Morgan rubbed his throat, thinking it might be prudent to leave.
“Nicely done, Frederik.” Fallon bent down to touch his toes, then stretched his hamstrings.
He glanced at Tersch. “I'm going to lift some weights before we train.”
“Good idea. We'll wait for Jules.” Ice blue eyes turned back to Morgan. “Well, go ahead and find some clothes you can work out in. I'll see for myself whether you're as pathetic as you look.”
Morgan had to concede that Tersch had a flare for insults. Then again, so did he. With a smile, he retorted, “
Ava doesn't seem to mind me. And you don't look nearly as discerning as she is. Oh, discerning means 'choosy.'”
Fallon coughed to unsuccessfully smother a laugh when Tersch growled and took a step closer to Morgan.
“Prick.”
“And I thought we were friends.” Morgan walked to the door, unashamedly naked. He chalked up a lack of modesty to an unconventional upbringing and his comfort in this place, with these people, he was starting to think of as home. “I'll be right back. Try not to fantasize about my cock while I'm gone.”
“Talk about annoying,” he heard Tersch grumble before he left in search of clothing. He didn't encounter anyone on the way to his room. Once inside, he re-dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, minus the shoes, since the Circs didn't seem to wear them around the place. Before he left, he stroked the small figurine on his bed stand. A small jade fox, his own kitsu. A talisman foretelling his future, or so he hoped.
Kisho shook with need, fury, and panic that he couldn't contain his emotions. Tamping down the firestorm inside him took effort, but he had himself back under control while he sought the one person with all the answers. He found Mrs. Sharpe in her study, looking at her computer screen.
She glanced up with a hopeful smile when he entered. “How was your training this morning?”
Forcing himself not to blush took effort, but he mastered his embarrassment with an iron resolve. “Why is Morgan Reynolds really here?” he asked without preamble.
“Why do you think he's here?”
“Please, Mrs. Sharpe. Just answer the question.”
The shrewd look in her eyes told him he wouldn't find the answers he wanted.
“You know why he's here, Kisho. You just won't accept it.” The damned woman couldn't possibly know the future he'd seen.