He inhales sharply, but not out of shock. Not if the way his jeans twitch is any measure. He smiles.
“We should get out of here,” he says.
No small talk.
No what do you do? or what brought you to LA?
Derek is right to the point and I am perfectly okay with that.
“How did you get in here?” I ask.
“I want you to find out,” he replies. His eyes burn into me and my veins lap up the flame.
“I came here with a friend,” I say, looking back toward Parker.
Parker’s still leaning against the bar. He smiles and nods in a have at it sort of way. But I still take Derek by the hand and pull him over toward where Parker waits.
“I think—“ I begin, but he cuts me off.
“You two go have fun,” Parker says. “Braxton’s on in a bit.”
He says it as though I was inviting him to a threesome. I realize that, in some small way, I was sort of hoping it could be. He must see my disappointment, and the surprise that I feel it.
“Take care of my boy,” Parker says, looking at Derek.
“You know it, boss,” Derek replies.
Parker leans forward and slips a folded piece of paper into my pocket. Then he whispers into my ear. “Think of me when you cum.”
It sounds like a command. It makes my heart flip.
“Call me tomorrow,” he says when he leans back. “We’ve got a lot to discuss.”
I swallow and nod. But honestly, Parker doesn’t seem the slightest bit upset about me leaving so suddenly. He watches me with the same sort of smile that I’ve worn when watching cute guys fuck in an orgy—like he’s happy to be witness, even if he isn’t playing himself.
I don’t even notice the Ifrit dancers on the way out, or the dozens of gorgeous men we pass. Derek is so close to me I can feel his heat, and every step makes my jock rub my dick in a way that feels like foreplay. If we drag this out any more, I’m going to explode. And the way Derek looks at me makes me want to take our time.
There’s no conversation as we make our way out of Ifrit. There’s no question of where we’re going or what we’re about to do. I take the lead, walking half a step ahead of Derek and heading straight toward my apartment. I want him so badly I ache, and I can tell he feels the same about me.
He takes my hand. Stops me and pulls me around and toward him, presses me against his thick chest as he presses his lips to mine. His kiss is magic.
Fire and fireworks and all I can think of is how even the little space between us is too much. His hands reach up to my face, one in my hair, the other on my jaw, so tender and yet so forceful I purr like a damned kitten. My hands go to his waist and pull his hips to mine, our dicks pressed between us and electric with want. He pushes me back, and a moment later I’m pressed against a palm tree and my hands are sliding up under his shirt and my fingers dart under the waist of his jeans and his tongue presses between my lips. I open with a sigh, let his tongue probe mine, tasting the tang of whatever he’d been drinking mixed with his saliva, more intoxicating than any alcohol. My eyes are closed but in that moment my grasp on my powers lessens, and I feel the gaze of everyone around us—the jealous boys in the bar across the street, the lascivious thoughts of a wandering group of straight women, the couples and singles who pass us and stare openly. Their envy rides the lust rising in my chest, burns through my thoughts until I am so solely aware on the two of us, inside and out, that the way he and I connect makes up my entire world.
He leans back slightly, bites my bottom lip, tilts and kisses my jaw, all the way up to my ear, where he breathes hot and fast before whispering “I want you” in a voice that nearly makes me cum.
“Then take me,” I gasp.
I don’t fucking care: he could rip off my pants and take me right there on the street. But he has the sense of mind to step back. His chest heaves and his eyes pin me to the tree. He grins. My hands trail off his waistline, but he loops a finger through the band of my shorts and pulls me away. If I wasn’t so horny I’d laugh—he knows the way back to mine better than I do.
We pause at the building’s entrance while I fumble for my keys and he steps up behind me, presses his dick against my ass, wends his hands around my hips, his fingers tracing the V of my hips and sliding beneath my jock.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard,” he whispers into my ear, then nips the back of my neck.
And yeah, it’s definitely not the most original line I’ve heard, but it still sends my mind reeling and my cock throbbing at the thought of him reenacting every single thing he’d imagined that morning.
I find the keys and we race up the steps to my studio. Again, the pause at the door, but this time his hands aren’t just exploring: he unbuttons my shorts and begins unzipping before I even get the key in the door. Light spills out. My shorts drop to my ankles when the door opens, but there’s no threat of tripping.
He picks me up like I weigh nothing and carries me over to the sofa, kicking the door shut behind him. I don’t even care if it locks.
6
Gently, he sets me on the arm of the sofa, his hands going back to my face as mine go to the fly of his jeans.
“No,” he mutters against my lips. “I want to worship you first.”
Fuck.
He presses his lips against mine, his thumb tracing my jaw to the corner of my mouth. When my lips part to invite in his tongue, his thumb presses into my lower lip, pulls it down gently, opening my mouth wider as his tongue probes deeper. I press back, hands motionless on his waist as his tongue curls over mine, thick and hot and all I can think of is his cock sliding in between my lips, swallowing him down to the hilt. I groan at the thought, my cock poking out of my jockstrap and dripping against my stomach. His free hand goes down to my waist, presses the top of my hip, pushing me down against the sofa, his thumb brushing the head of my cock.
He trails his kisses down, keeps my mouth speared by his thumb, which I suck as greedily as I would his dick as his finger probes deeper into my mouth, warm and heavy. His kisses are jolts of electricity, every one shooting straight across my skin toward my dick. I can’t stop the moans that vibrate in the back of my throat as he kisses my collar, as the hand on my hips lifts my shirt up, revealing my stomach, my chest. His fingers pinch my nipples, making me gasp in pleasure. He presses his thumb further into my mouth and I moan again.
I watch his head dip lower, the dark shaggy mop of hair tickling my chest. He looks up at me, once, his eyes making me breathless with need. Still watching me watch him, his lips find my nipple piercing, his tongue gently exploring the right barbell. His torso presses against my chest and my dick bulges against his shirt, the rough fabric slicking with precum. He tilts my head back, forces my gaze up to the ceiling.
Then he catches the barbell in his teeth and pulls while he bites.
I yelp with pain but the moment I do his hand is on my dick and it turns to pleasure. He doesn’t let go, either of my cock or my piercing, his tongue circling my tight nipple while his thumb traces the underside of my dick, slick with want.
He growls a happy “Yes” as I writhe against him, pinned there by dick and nip and jaw, and I know then that I will let this man do anything to me. I open my powers and press that thought into his mind as I rock my hips against his torso, dick straining against his touch. Take me. Take me. Take me.
“Not yet, boss,” he whispers, releasing my nipple, his breath against my slick skin making my hair stand on end.
He licks lower, still forcing me to look away even though I could see it through his eyes if I wanted to. I don’t want to. Every single point of contact sparks with erotic energy and I don’t want to break the spell.
His tongue traces the V of my hips. I twitch against the touch, ticklish and turned on, gasping and biting on his thumb, his wide palm hot on my jaw. He licks. Scratches his teeth into my hip. I moan and his hand tightens on my cock, his thumb still tracing the underside of its head. More precum drips
down his fingers and, as he bites harder on my hip bone, sending fire and pain and ecstasy flooding through my chest, he pulls my jockstrap down.
My cock throbs out, hard as stone and veins bulging so taut it nearly hurts. But the pain is bliss, and when he catches the jock underneath my nuts, forcing them up and out like half of a cock-ring, the pressure builds.
I gasp against his grip, my heart racing as fast as my breath as his hand encompasses my thigh, presses against my inner leg. His lips trace down, warm and slick, and then I feel his scruff graze against my dick. My cock bucks. Scratches against his stubble. His hand closes around the base of my shaft, warm against my balls, pulling my foreskin down, making my cock strain erect. My hands grip the sofa’s edge, every muscle in my body tight and quivering.
I want to look at him. I want to see his eyes as he worships my cock, but I can’t move my head against his grip and before I can do anything he licks up the underside of my shaft, slow as the moan pulled from my throat.
Then, when he reaches the tip, he engulfs my dick with his warm, wet lips.
I gasp with pleasure. His lips slide down my shaft, tongue lapping against my cock. I squeeze my eyes shut and bite into his thumb to keep from yelling out. He feels so. Fucking. Good.
Even with his hand pressed against my thigh, I gyrate my hips against his jaw, twisting and thrusting my cock deeper into his eager mouth. He laps it up, sliding his lips back and forth along my shaft, a rumble in the back of his throat vibrating along my cock and up to my own lips.
He slides up and down, pressure building inside of me, his tongue flicking against my shaft while his thumb probes my mouth and his hand palms my nuts.
I want to yell out. I want to tell him I’m close. My hands tighten on the sofa as the pressure builds, as my cock strains against his lips…
Then he pulls back.
My dick flops against my stomach as he stands in one smooth motion, his own cock pressed hard against his jeans, a slight wet patch showing in the dark denim.
“Now,” he says. He wipes off his lips with his palm. That smile never once leaves his face. “My turn.”
I nod eagerly, fully ready to take his glorious cock in my mouth. But he clearly has other plans. He puts his hands on my hips and flips me over the sofa. My cock presses against the arm and my forearms are on the seat, my jock tangled at my feet. I look back to see him rip off his shirt, revealing a chest as hairy and broad and muscled as I’d hoped it would be, a perfect trail of scruff leading from his pecs down to his crotch. He pulls off his jeans and slides down his wet boxers. His own dick flops out and once more, I want nothing more than to taste every inch of it. It’s thick and long and straight, about the size of my wrist, and okay—if he goes in without prepping me it might hurt a bit but damn it’s going to be worth it.
He grabs his cock, strokes it a few times. Raises his eyebrows.
“You want this?” he asks in his gruff voice.
I nod eagerly.
“Good,” he replies.
Then he drops to his knees and presses my ass apart with his hands, burying his tongue in my eager hole.
“Fuck!” I cry out.
He laps against my ass like a thirsty dog, stubble scratching my cheeks and his tongue leaving long, hot swathes of wet against my hole. He groans with my pleasure, licking harder, making me slick. Then he slips the tip of his tongue inside of me, probing against my depths.
I yell out again and bury my face into a throw pillow to keep myself from waking up the whole damn neighborhood. I try to relax, let him go deeper, my cock throbbing against the sofa as he probes and groans hungrily. His hands leave my ass and faintly, I hear the sound of ripping packaging. A condom. He doesn’t stop fucking me with his tongue, pushing all thoughts from my mind save that one delicious feeling, the nakedness of being entered, of being desired, of being devoured. I realize then that this was his fantasy from this morning, and it fills me with heat to have him playing it out now.
He stands and slides his dick up along my crack, his hands going to my hips. I look back at him, catch his hungry eyes. His fingers tighten. I nod.
He looks down and spits, a long trail of saliva dripping down between my ass cheeks, puddling against his cock. Then he pulls back just slightly, the head of his massive dick sliding against my crack, and slowly, gently, presses his cock inside of me.
I moan and go back to pressing my head into the pillow as my ass stretches, relaxes. I try to breathe in deep against the pillow, against my racing heart. Sweat breaks across my skin and even though the pain of him slipping into me is sharp, it eases in a moment, heightening the pleasure as, centimeter by centimeter, he slides his cock inside of me.
“Yeah, boy,” he whispers. He leans over, presses his warm chest against my back. “You’re so fucking tight.”
“You feel amazing,” I gasp back. And I mean it.
One last inch and he buries himself fully inside of me, filling me, his pubes scratching against my ass and his cock pressing against my prostate. Sparks flash across my vision and I yelp with pleasure, pushing back against him, forcing him deeper, deeper.
“Yeah,” he whispers. He bites my earlobe. “Yeah, take all of it.”
I moan as he stands upright and pulls his cock back, then plunges it deep inside of me. In and out he thrusts, his balls smacking against mine, his dick spearing against my prostate, sending jolts through my body. His hands dig into my hips and the only sound is the wet smack of our bodies against each other, my yelps and his grunts, the panting of his pleasure.
He slides one hand up my spine and grasps the back of my neck, pulling me up. I arch my back as he draws me to him, his lips seeking mine and his hand wrapping across my chest. I twist to kiss him, our lips trembling with want as his tongue slides between my teeth. His fingers pinch my nipple piercing, making me gasp, as his other hand reaches around and wraps around my shaft.
He holds me like this, fucking me fervently, clutching my throbbing dick while his other hand goes to my throat, pulling me closer, closer. Ever closer.
“Fuck, Derek,” I manage to gasp between thrusts.
He chuckles low in his throat. The sound of his deep enjoyment brings me to the edge.
“You have a lot of toys,” he murmurs.
I nod, barely able to do even that. He doesn’t stop thrusting against me. I gasp every single time.
“Which is your favorite?” he asks. His voice is breathy, his pulse hot.
“I… I’ll…” I don’t think I could walk over to the toy bin if I wanted to.
“Show me in here,” he says. He kisses my temple, accentuating his point with another thrust. I yell out in pleasure.
I can barely think. Everything is sparks and touch and heat and sweat, pleasure and the barest, perfect hint of pain. But I open to my power, show him my favorite dildo with my mind—the toy is long and thick, curved to perfection. Admittedly a lot bigger than he is, but if he wants to pull out and put it in me, I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever he wants. I am putty in his hands—if not for him holding me to his grizzled chest, I would collapse.
“Good boy,” he says. “That one looks like a lot of fun. I bet it hits all the right spots.”
I murmur a yes, or at least, I think I do. His hips have me speechless. I don’t want him to stop.
“Oh, babe, I’m not stopping.” He pushes against me again, deeper this time. I moan, the sound cut off by the slight tightening of his hand against my throat. “Do you want to see my power?”
I nod against his jaw, find his lips, kiss him hard. Fuck, I want everything. Everything.
He plunges inside of me, makes my vision swim. And then I feel him change.
Deep within me, his dick bucks. Twitches.
Grows.
It fills me, curves against my prostate, and between one frantic breath and the next he is huge, the same size as the dildo I’d thought of.
I don’t even whisper my shock at his ability to shapeshift. Before my thoughts can register, he pull
s out and thrusts back in, and my yell of pleasure pushes all thoughts from my mind.
He holds me there, hips smacking against my ass with every pulse. He doesn’t kiss me, but his lips hover over mine, breathing hot into my lungs. The hand around my cock begins sliding back and forth, slick with my own precum, keeping perfect time with his thrusts. His breathing gets heavier, huskier. His grunts grow louder as his enormous dick pulses deeper, pressing so hard against my prostate I’m leaking all over the sofa.
I am so close. I can barely see. My vision is black and speared with stars, every thrust of his hips renders me speechless, breathless.
I can only gasp.
Can only register, deep in my mind, that I am close, so close, and I can’t tell him to keep going or to stop, and I don’t know what I want more.
His hand grips my shaft tighter, his thrusts grow faster.
The pressure inside me builds.
Close.
So close!
Fuck!
He buries his dick deep in my ass with a groan as my orgasm rips through me.
My body convulses over and over as ropes of cum spurt over the sofa, wave after wave of heat and pleasure coursing through my body. My chest is fire and my cock is electric and his own cock bucks inside of me, his body quivering as he cums in my ass, every twitch of his dick another throb against my prostate, another jolt of pleasure.
My vision goes black against the stars. And in that light, I see Parker. Blue eyed, innocent Parker. Smiling that I’m thinking of him. Just as he told me to.
We collapse over the edge of the sofa, panting, trying to catch our breath. Derek’s cock twitches again and I convulse. I don’t ever want him to pull out.
He chuckles, kisses the back of my neck.
I let out a sigh and breathe in deep.
“Fuck,” I say aloud. It’s honestly the only word left in my vocabulary.
“Yeah,” he replies.
He holds me there, cradled against him, his sweat mingling against mine. I close my eyes, let myself curl up against the warmth, the comfort of being held. Just for a moment, I let myself feel innocent as well.
Warlocks of West Hollywood : The Newcomer Page 3