by Lucy Auburn
"Just kiss me." Desperate, I reach for him, snag his shirt and pull him to me. "If I still seem high once we start, you can always stop in the middle."
"Mora..."
"I'm not completely out of my mind. I'd still feel this way if I were stone cold sober. Here, I'll prove it." Sense must have left me, because I'm yanking the IV out of my arm before I can even think about it for a second. "See? No more drugs going into me. Kiss me until I'm sober and let me jerk you off, Jasper. I promised you won't regret it. Neither will your dick."
Cupping his crotch, I push my fingers against the shaft I can feel strapped to his right thigh. His eyes flutter closed. He groans, and I know I have him. So I press my lips against his and let his moan turn into a deep kiss.
"We shouldn't," he says again, but this time he adds, "but let's do it anyway."
"There's the spirit."
Grabbing his pants, I zip them open and flutter my fingertips at his waistline. Jasper has a lithe, somewhat thin body, with a bit of soft androgyny over his masculine frame. He tastes like summer fruit and smells a bit like flowers. And beneath his tight black underline, which peeks up over the waistband of his stupid white pants, his dick is hard as I wrap my fingers around it.
I like his contradictions. The pastel purple hair and roguish smirk. Eyes that look like a cat's and hands that are covered in callouses. Jasper's shifty nature straddles the line between genders—at least the way humans see them. Us demigods aren't quite so close-minded; as far as I'm concerned, Jasper could express a desire to turn his outie into an innie, and maybe he even does that with his powers. A hot piece of ass is still a hot piece of ass no matter what's beneath the wrappings.
In this case, what's beneath is a warm hard cock that springs from black silk underwear with eagerness. Twisting my hand around the base, I lean towards him. His hands reach up to cup my breasts, and his thumbs push up beneath my top.
Groaning, I stroke his shaft from the base up, already anticipating how it'll feel to feed off his moment of climax. As I move my hand up and down he rocks his hips forward, pushing for more, harder, tighter. I give it to him, desperate to feel his cum against my skin, to taste a bit of his life force as it surges to the surface.
The more I work his shaft, the deeper his tongue flutters into my mouth, thumbs pushing up beneath my top to brush against my nipples and stroke them to hardness. I groan and let him in, enjoying the push of his cock inside my grip, reaching under with my fingers to brush against his balls. Almost there....
Boots ring out down the hallway, the sound of a guard approaching.
Jasper jerks, and not in a good, I'm-gonna-come kind of way, which would be fast but forgivable. No, he straight up jumps away from me, pulls my fingers off his cock, and stuff himself back into his pants—poorly, I might add, because his erection is pretty clear given how tight they are. Not only that, but his cheeks are flushed, and his hair sticks up in a dozen different directions, something like static electricity running through the strands as they shift between wild colors like neon yellow, burnt orange, and even a dark silver.
"What, worried about getting caught?" I push my breasts up with my hands, trying to entice him. "Come back. I can totally get you to come before the guards find us."
"Those footsteps will be here in less than a minute," Jasper points out.
"Yeah." I grab his waistband, pull him to me, and open up the zipper again. "Like I said, I'm good."
"I'm sure you are." He stills my hands, and I sigh, watching him swallow as he glances down towards my cleavage—which I've made sure to emphasize by sitting back and pressing my arms against my boobs, all classy-like. "It just seems like something that can wait for—ah, fuck, for later."
I've pushed my breasts up against him, brushing him with my hard nipples through the black fabric of my top. He groans, hands gripping my wrist, cock still hard, clearly torn between two impulses. The head of his dick is leaking precum into his tight briefs, which just makes me want to grab it and twist it more. It almost looks like he might actually give me what I want if I just reach in and take it fast enough.
Fluttering my eyes up at him, I tell Jasper, "You want to come. I want to make you. So just pull that curtain closed and let it happen."
His fingers twitch. The curtain around my bed isn't exactly opaque, but the door is far enough away that it would provide a few seconds cover. I can see the temptation in his eyes.
Jasper reaches back towards the curtain.
I pull at his black underwear and slip my hand beneath it.
His cock jumps at my touch as I pull it from its confines. I twist my fingers around it deftly and press forward as I jerk it towards my breasts. The head of his cock slips neatly between my cleavage, rubbing precum on my skin.
"Fuck." Moaning, Jasper's mouth goes slack, his hand twitching the curtain around us. "Do that. More of that."
"Like this?" Pushing my breasts around his cock head, I jerk him harder and faster, twisting my hand to pulling him towards the brink. I can hear the sound of footsteps get closer, and a thrill goes through me, enough to make my own arousal pulse. It feels good to watch Jasper's face react as he edges towards climax. "Come on my tits, Jasper. I'm so wet just thinking about it. You know you want to."
"I do—fuck, I do."
He comes as I push my breasts tight around his shaft, angling my chest so his cock is buried in my top. Moaning, he curls forward and buries his hands in my hair, fingers tightening around the dark strands that spill over my neck and shoulders.
I sigh as I feel his warm cum pulse inside me, grabbing his cock with both hands, one on the shaft and one cupping his balls and tightening around the base. With a twist of my fingers I pull as much of his too-fast orgasm out of him as I can, and feel his life force push against his skin as his arousal spills out of him.
His bit of vitality, the little death that comes out of him along with his climax, makes my fingertips tingle and my breath hitch. It tastes like sunshine and fresh water. My heart jumps with excitement as I drink it out.
It's not enough. I want more. Pulling Jasper's wet and still-twitching cock out of my new black top, I lick the head and shaft, cleaning it from balls to tip with the flat of my tongue. He groans as I do so; when I look up, his eyes are flashing between blue and gold. Squeezing his balls, I put my lips around his cock head and suck until I get the very last drop.
It's enough of him to take the edge of the starvation that lives inside me. Not enough, I think, to take the cuffs off—now that the morphine is edging away, I can feel the hollow hunger in me. But it's more vitality than I'd get from any mortal man, and a start to my plan.
"By the way," I tell Jasper as I lick his cum from my lips, "I'm not joining your team. I just wanted to make you come. Nothing more."
He blinks at me, then pulls back and shoves his still-softening cock into his briefs. Just in time, too. The footsteps are right outside.
Far faster than I thought possible, the door opens—and Damien himself walks in.
Chapter Twelve
Striding over, he pulls the curtain to my bed back, eyes darting back and forth between Jasper and me. The shapeshifting demigod does his best to pull his zipper shut subtly, but it's pretty obvious what just happened here. His cheeks are flushed, and though I tried to keep his cum inside my shirt, some of it is dripping between my breasts and soaking the black mesh front that reveals my cleavage. Not to mention, I realize as I lick my lips again, there was a tiny bit in the corner, painting the pink flush of my cupid's bow.
Heat sparks in Damien's cheeks. He scowls at Jasper, which is the wrong target for his wrath. I'm the one who bullied and cajoled him into letting me jerk him off, after all.
"Get out," the god hunter snaps at the demigod, whose hair is settling into a jet black, eyes a vibrant unnatural green. Damien's nostrils flare in anger. "You may have certain privileges because of your designation as a team leader, but don't think that makes you untouchable. I'll find a way to punish you for thi
s, count on it."
"For what? She wanted it."
"The training room orgies are one thing. But this is a place of medicine. And she's injured. It's inappropriate."
"Whatever you say, bossman. It won't happen again."
Jasper shrugs Damien's ire off, shoving his hands into the front pocket of his white skinny jeans, which only makes the fabric strain against his still-visible bulge. Apparently he's the type to be able to keep it up after climax, maybe even enough for another round—information that only makes me sigh, in light of what he represents. Maybe I'll be lucky and one of the booze-filled sons of Bacchus will turn out to have stamina, but somehow I doubt it.
"I hope you're better soon, Mora," Jasper tells me, backing out of the room while facing me, a little smirk on his kiss-reddened lips. "If you change your mind about joining up, let me know. There are certain perks... if that's your thing. Since it seems to be." He winks at Damien, who clutches his gloved hands into fists so tight his circulation must be cut off. "You should consider using some of your power to avail yourself of this prisoner's skills. Looks like you could use it, Highwater."
"Go to Hell."
"No such place, puny human."
Jasper slips out of the door. For a moment, Damien stares at it, looking torn between chasing after him and staying put. His hand skims the holster where his electric baton resides. Then he jerks visibly, like a stallion straining against his reins, and turns to me with a frown on his face.
"Your IV came loose."
"I tore it out," I confess; the morphine must still be loosening my tongue a bit. "There were other plans, but the handjob seemed like a good idea, and he didn't want it as long as I was high. So I sobered up."
"Not quite. Your pupils are blown." Walking over to me, Damien looks noticeably unsettled by the cum drying on my top. "Lay back. Let me get the doctor."
"No, don't bother him. He looks like he needs a nap." I yawn as I lean back, and my ribs ache terribly. "Or maybe I need the nap. And some morphine. Do they make a version that's bottled or canned or something? You would know, you're mortal."
"I wouldn't know, the stuff has never worked very well for me." Damien's face battles between amusement and disgust as he pulls the hospital sheet over me, cringing as it falls across my top. He gently puts my left wrist in his hand and tugs it out from beneath the sheet to lay it next to me, the leather of his gloves soft and warm against my skin. "I can put the IV needle back in. I have medical training. But you need to stay still, and not... try anything."
Raising my brows, I snort in amusement. "What, like, jerking you off?" I wriggle my fingers at him, which miraculously stayed clean, mostly because my cleavage took Jasper's load. "I wouldn't dare even think of it."
"Good, because this is hardly the time or the place."
In a faux scandalized voice I declare, "Why, Reginald Jackson, are we ho-nest-ly suggesting that a man might expose his ding-a-ling inside an empty room and let a woman rub her bare fingerlings all over it?"
"Fingerlings doesn't mean fingers. And your British accent is terrible." He grabs an alcohol swab and pulls my arm down towards him. "Again, stay still."
Sighing, I tell him, "I didn't think it would hurt this much."
"What—the IV needle? I haven't even gotten it in yet."
"No. The beatdown." I cringe away from the all-too-fresh memory of Tia and Cara beating the everliving fuck out of me. It's harder to drift on morphine clouds without the morphine. "I mean, I knew there had to be a catch to this place. We get to wear our own clothes, eat actual food, and have orgies? Sign me up! But Ares is in charge. So of course the guards zap people halfway to death with their shiny baton things. You ever gonna put that needle in me? It's not a dick y'know, you don't need to get me hot and bothered. Unless you want to."
"I'm done." I blink at Damien, who stares steadily back, still wearing his dark leather gloves. "You should lie back and rest. And maybe consider cleaning yourself up. The shower in the corner has a chair and a detachable shower head in case you need it."
Purring, I tell him, "You could help me."
Damien steadily ignores me. "I didn't come here for more of your inappropriate banter. I wanted to tell you—"
"I guess I can take care of myself," I mutter, pouting at him. "If the shower head is detachable. Y'know, Jasper didn't get a chance to give back what he received. But since you're here—"
"Hush." His voice is just loud enough with rebuke to make it seem like he's not interested, but the tips of his ears are a bright red pink, and the tiny bit of his neck that peeks above his high collarbone has turned red as well. "I wanted to come here to make sure you were okay, which you clearly are, since you're up to your antics. And to warn you to be more careful. This place isn't some kind of a game."
I know that now. Raising a brow at him, I put a hand on his chest and ask, "Are you worried about me? That's sweet."
"I'm responsible for you, as the lead hunter who brought you in."
"What a strange way to look at things. If I'm hurt again, will you release me?" His jaw clenches, and he's notably silent. "Mmmm. That's what I thought. I have the feeling the only reward around here for getting repeatedly beaten by the guards is a stint in solitary."
"It would be to protect you," he argues, "but I hope it doesn't come to that."
"I won't let it," I swear.
Damien frowns. "If you have something dangerous planned—"
"Again, why do you care?"
For a long moment he's silent. There's an expression on his face that seems torn between revealing something and keeping quiet. Finally he tersely says, "Just try not to get yourself killed the first month here."
"And my second month?"
"I guess I don't really care."
I laugh at him a little, which makes his brows draw even closer together, his green eyes sparking with irritation. The godmark on his forehead seems to flare to life. He clenches his gloves hands.
"If that's it... and you're not going to play with me..."
"Absolutely not."
"Then I guess you should go so I can clean up and take a nap. Or did you want to stick around?" Breathing in, I playfully tug at the strap to my revealing black top. "You could watch me wash up. I promise you, if you like the goods like this, you'll love them when they're unwrapped."
He sighs. "Are you ever not horny?"
"Right after I'm thoroughly fucked. If you give it a shot, I can show you. Sometimes I even keep my mouth shut during sex—unless it's really, really good. I bet you could make me loud enough to wake the whole prison. Unless you'd prefer to gag me, which is also an option."
"You're right, I should go."
His discomfort is clear, but so is the slight stiffness in his legs as he pushes up off my bed and paces towards the door. I smirk; clearly I've gotten to him. I know I shouldn't, but playing with Damien is so much fun. Especially because I have no idea why he seems to be so weirdly attached to me—unless it's just sublimated sexual attraction, which I can definitely deal with. There's something else there, though, and I want to know more.
Stopping by the door, he tells me, "I'll come back when you're released, to escort you to your cell. I want to make sure nothing else happens to you."
"As long as those guards are on duty, that's pretty much guaranteed."
"Cara and Tia were moved off your cellblock." He frowns briefly, the expression a flash across his face. "It was the best I could do."
"You really, really do like me." I bite my lip, staring him down. "Sure you don't want to see me on my hands and knees for you?"
"Stay safe and heal, Mora."
After the door shuts behind him, I flop back onto the pillows, going over everything he said. My mind races with all the implications: the fact that he was worried about me, has power to move the guards away from my cellblock, and plans on returning to protect me.
It doesn't quite fit into the image of the man who captured me that night in Queens, or even the one who nervously
fidgeted in the back of a prisoner transport van, frowning every time I made a too-sexual comment. Something has changed, something he's not telling me. I can't help but notice it changed around the same time that Ares' firstborn son, returned to life despite the odds, showed up here with vague plans to overthrow his father.
Aleksander is at the center of all this. And I don't like it one bit.
* * *
Jasper doesn't visit me again, which is too bad. I fiddle with the cuffs my first night in the medical bay, and manage to get one off again, only to have to promptly put it back on. The single orgasm from one uncuffed demigod barely made a dent in the hunger within. It'll take a lot more feeding to get to a place where I can escape.
Thankfully taking one cuff off for a moment, as agonizing as it is, seems to speed up the healing process quite a bit. The doctor is surprised by how much better I look the morning of my second day in the hospital, though if he suspects anything godblood-related, he doesn't mention it.
"It looks like you'll be well enough to be discharged this afternoon," he says, gently probing my ribs with his fingertips. "You're lucky. Most of the patients I see don't get so lucky."
"The ones who are hurt in the arena, or the ones hurt outside of it?"
His eyes are tired and wary. "I've treated so many that I couldn't possibly choose one way or another. All I'll say is that you're very lucky the next arena tournament won't happen for a week and a half. It gives you plenty of time to rest up, heal, and prepare."
"Thanks, but I won't be fighting in the arena."
"For your sake, I hope that's true."
He leaves me to do whatever it is that he does when he's not here—it's hard to imagine. Mortal doctors who treat demigod patients aren't exactly common. There must be some kind of story there.
A young woman shows up in the afternoon and cheerily introduces herself as Nurse Pratchett. "It looks like you're cleared for release," she says, scanning the clipboard at the foot of my bed with cursory attention. "I've gotten the lead guard to come escort you back to your cell, and given him your pain meds for dispensation. You'll take two a day or as needed for the next week. Do you have any questions?"