by Cari Z
“I just want you however I can get you, as long as it’s now,” Devon assured him.
“Fine.” Rio abruptly pulled his truck off to the side of the road. He killed the engine and the lights, set Maggie down on the seat in between them and got out of the truck. Devon spilled out on the other side, stumbled around to the back and into Rio’s arms, and the pain transformed to ecstasy as soon as they touched.
“Oh, yes, yesyesyes,” Devon murmured before Rio hoisted him up and kissed him. It was an explosive kind of kiss, just the kind of thing that Rio was good at. It sent a shock wave through Devon, starting at his lips and rippling down his entire body. Rio stank of sweat and salt, he had blood on the tops of his boots that Devon could smell from ten feet away, but he was still the most delicious thing Devon had ever known. Devon couldn’t smell his desire, he couldn’t get anything extra out of Rio with his power, but pressed against the evidence of Rio’s interest, Devon felt like he was on top of the world.
Rio didn’t waste any time. He got the tailgate down and was laying Devon flat almost before Devon could blink, and then his pants were open and Rio’s hand was on his length. It was so much, it was so perfect that Devon came right there almost immediately, moaning as the orgasm set him trembling. He soaked Rio’s hand with his come, but Rio didn’t stop, just gentled him through it and kept stroking him until he was ready to go again. It was that simple with a cambion who had energy to burn, that quick and he was ready for more, slower this time.
“I love your hand,” Devon whispered in Rio’s ear as he pulled him close. “I love the way it feels on me, I love how huge it is and how you can hold almost all of me like that. I love how big you are.” Devon splayed his hips and groaned as Rio settled against him, rubbing their erections together through a harsh layer of cloth. It hurt, but in a good way. Devon pulled Rio’s hand up and slowly licked it clean as they rutted together, eating up every last drop. Rio huffed an amused breath, but he still unzipped his fly and took himself out with a sigh of relief.
“This is what I like,” Devon purred, arching his hips up against Rio’s. “This is what I want.” He kissed Rio softly, then asked, “Am I what you want?”
“Everyone wants you, tesoro mio.” Rio rolled his hips back down, and sparks tingled across Devon’s skin.
“But you don’t want just anyone,” Devon said, not giving up on it for some reason. He wanted to hear…he wasn’t sure what he wanted to hear. Something special.
“You’re not just anyone,” Rio smiled. “Come on, Dev, come for me, come again, I know you can.” He rubbed their dicks together, hot and hard, and it felt so damn good. He got into a rhythm and Devon held him tight, running his tongue up the length of Rio’s neck and sucking on his earlobe as the pressure built. Rio was heavy, a real and present spur to Devon’s desire, and he felt…oh god, he felt…
“Rio!” Devon came again, shuddering and gasping in Rio’s arms, spilling a smaller load between them. He never got soft, just skipped the entire concept of a refractory period and came when Rio asked. Rapid orgasms were a delightful side-effect of being both a cambion and a relative youth, and the release felt so good, the fire in his bones finally starting to recede a bit. The need was still there, but it was so much less now, Devon finally felt like he could relax a little.
“Now you,” he said, leaving nippy kitten-bites along Rio’s collarbone. He could feel the tension riding in Rio’s spine, and while he wanted to strip him down and touch every bare inch of him, every coiled muscle and overheated bit of skin, he wanted for him to come first. Their erections were slick with Devon’s come, and Rio’s hips were heavy, the rhythm he was hitting was fast and hard, and he was going to give it up, he had to—
Rio exhaled hard and arched his back, and it was inevitable but still somehow surprising for Devon when he came. When he had sex with people, Devon could feel their orgasms build; he could feed on their desire. Not as much as an incubus could, but he could still sip on the edges of their ecstasy, and it felt so good. It was still good with Rio, it was amazing, but he couldn’t feel inside Rio the way he was used to with a partner. It made Rio mysterious, and it made every orgasm Devon could coax from him something to be treasured.
They lay still for a moment, and Devon basked in his lover’s attention as Rio kissed his cheek and smiled. “Think that’ll hold you until we get to a hotel?”
“Maybe,” Devon said coyly, wriggling his hips a little. They were both messy and sticky and they smelled like smoke and sex, but all in all it was one of the best afterglows he could remember. “As long as you promise to take a shower with me when we get a room.”
“For you, Dev, anything.” It was kind of funny Rio should say that, since Devon had no hold over Rio and he knew it, but he smiled past the bittersweet ache that tugged at the back of his throat. This was so good, there was no way it wasn’t enough for them.
***
A solitary man made his way across an open section of moonlit desert, moving as quickly as someone who looked as thoroughly used and tattered as he did could be expected to. If someone else had been watching him at that very moment, they might have been surprised at the opulence of his ruined suit and shoes and the expense of his watch and haircut, considering that the owner of all these refinements didn’t sound anywhere near as genteel as the picture he’d presented.
The man swore a blue streak under his breath, mixed English and Italian that blended into a private and vociferous lingua franca, and he favored one leg heavily. A monolithic rock outcropping stood out in the distance, and it was toward that the man was headed, away from the almost invisible hole in the ground he’d emerged from, and far away from the gouts of fire that rose from the ruins of his former employer’s personal heaven.
Porter Grey always had more than one way out of any situation, always had layers of failsafes in place to keep himself alive. It was a side effect of his uncertain youth, and one he had been grateful for more times than he could count in his long and varied career. Extensive planning had allowed him to evade the authorities for as long as he had. Planning was what had convinced him so long ago that learning to summon demons was the clearest path to material wealth and status open to someone like him, someone with intelligence and ability but not much opportunity. It was a path he had grabbed for with both hands, well aware that the sorts of challenges he would face down the line might very well be lethal.
This time hadn’t been lethal, not for him, but it had come close enough to make Porter more than a little shaky as he climbed behind the wheel of his second spare vehicle. His primary car, a brand new Porsche Carrera, was in all likelihood a smoldering heap right now, and his Ducati was faster but not the ideal thing to be driving on rough desert roads at night. So instead he ran the half a mile to the rocks where he’d stashed his Jeep, cursing at the injuries that made him limp, then pulled off the camouflage netting that had covered it.
It was an older model, not flashy or classy, really not his style at all, but it would be good enough to get him to a bigger city where he could exchange it for a more comfortable rental to take him the rest of the way to his destination. Saint Peter and the Pearly Gates had only ever been bait, but Porter was surprised by just how fast and how violently the place had been found and wrecked. Not just wrecked—demolished, utterly destroyed. By just one man. One man who’d no doubt freed the cambion by now. It was such a wasted chance… Porter huffed his frustration as he turned the Jeep onto a dirt road.
He could barely see out of his right eye, swelling from where one of the stinger grenade’s tiny rubber balls had hit him just below it. Porter hadn’t been expecting grenades, and he’d lost control of the succubus when the explosion had hit Saint Peter’s little corner of the room.
Admittedly, his control tonight hadn’t been as good as it could have. Porter hadn’t been with Saint Peter for long, and he hadn’t enjoyed a moment of his time there. He was a lot of things, but sycophant wasn’t one of them, not to someone who didn’t even apprecia
te the skill Porter brought to the table. It didn’t exactly inspire him to perform to the height of his ability.
Still, that had been too close. He could have died, if the succubus had come after him first instead of attacking her closest admirers. His entire body ached from so many small, hard impacts, and his clothes stank of smoke and sweat and fear. Fear…no, he wasn’t afraid. He couldn’t let himself be afraid. Porter took a few deep breaths to calm down.
Everything was fine. Better than fine, really. He hadn’t come away from the Pearly Gates with all he’d hoped for, but he could still play the fox to Safeguard’s hounds. It would have reflected better upon him if he’d come out of there with the cambion already in his grasp, but whoever it was that had come after the boy, he had done a more than adequate job of destroying Saint Peter and all of his presumptuous aspirations, which had saved Porter considerable effort.
And the cambion would come after Porter again. He’d have to, if he was jumping at Elliana Mayhew’s beck and call. Porter made sure his heartbeat was low and steady and his voice firm before taking the phone out of his pocket and dialing the only number in it. His recipient picked up on the second ring.
“You aren’t where I left you, kitten.”
“The Pearly Gates have been destroyed,” Porter replied, fighting against the instincts that made him want to pull the Jeep over and get his hand on himself as soon as he heard this mellow, dulcet voice. “It was Safeguard’s doing. They sent heavy firepower in after Devon Harper.”
“This isn’t good news for you, little kitten. You assured me that this would be the perfect opportunity to get what I need.”
“They aren’t going to give up,” Porter said confidently, but he felt new sweat prickle across his brow. “I can still pull this together. I’ll go to LA, someplace with plenty of surveillance; they’ll think I’m trying to leave the country. I can set a trap to separate them and finish this.”
“No,” the voice said after a moment. “I want you closer to home for this. Not that you haven’t performed passably, but I feel the need to take a firmer hand from here on out.”
Porter felt like his heart was going to fall out of his chest. “I didn’t mean to disappoint you.”
“I know you didn’t,” the voice replied, sounding sweet but telling him nothing about its intent with those words. “Come home. I’ll position you where I want you and we’ll make sure to accomplish our objective this time. No more excuses, kitten.”
Porter swallowed heavily. “No excuses,” he agreed.
“That’s right.” The call ended, and Porter mechanically slid the phone back into his pocket. His eyes burned with unshed tears, and he needed a few more stabilizing breaths before he felt back in control.
Porter hated feeling vulnerable, hated the uncertainty that came with distance. He thought longingly back to the days in Taiwan, then Rome, when everything had been certain and his position of favor had been assured. Those had been the best days of his life. Being back in America was incredibly frustrating for him, not just because of the difficulty of the task he faced now, but because it reminded him of past failures that he’d barely survived.
It wasn’t that Porter didn’t understand the grand scheme that was underway here; he even agreed with it, but he hadn’t had the time to plan for every eventuality. Porter didn’t like not knowing how every permutation of a series of events might play out, and this one was just going to get more and more uncertain as time went on.
Well, there was nothing he could do about it. Porter wasn’t naturally obedient, but he had learned, through harsh tutelage, the necessity of subservience. He had thrown in his lot, made his bed, and there was no going back. He’d been promised it would all be worth his while, and he had to have faith in that promise now.
He also had to get a goddamn icepack and some painkillers before his eye swelled completely shut. Porter checked the marked map he had prepped in the glove box and found the route to the nearest big town, Sunnyside. Fifty miles to relief. He stared grimly forward and pushed the gas pedal to the floor.
Chapter Five
Rio woke up covered by the equivalent of a human comforter. Not just a blanket; a blanket implied that Devon was good for nothing other than providing warmth, while a comforter evoked the idea that even though no one being sprawled all over you should be comfy, Devon actually was. He was a skinny, gorgeous waif who should be all bony elbows and exhausted snoring after the night they’d had. Instead he was curled across Rio’s chest like a human cat, warm and satiated and breathing soft and easy. Rio stared down at Devon in silence for a moment, then reached up and ran his hands over Devon’s bare back. “Wake up, Dev.”
“Mmmno.”
“Mmmyes. We need to get up and call Maria.”
“You call her.” Devon pushed his nose into the side of Rio’s neck and sighed contentedly. “I’m just gonna lie here for a while.”
“You’ve been lying there for hours.”
“That’s because you’re a great lay,” Devon said, smirking up at Rio as he stretched out further, the tips of his toes making it about halfway down Rio’s shins. He was well on his way to hard again too, and Rio rolled his eyes.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I never kid about morning sex.”
“We’ve had truck sex, shower sex, and bed sex, all within the last twelve hours, Devon. Aren’t you worn out yet?”
Devon rubbed his erection against Rio’s stomach, leaving a thin wet trail. “Is that a trick question?” He kissed the point of Rio’s chin, then his mouth. Of course his breath was fresh. Morning breath would never dare take residence in Devon’s mouth, no matter how filthy it could be. “Don’t you want to play with me?”
“Boy, there’s no way I’m getting it up, you’ve broken me.” Devon pouted mercilessly at him, and Rio sighed. “But I suppose I can still make it happen for you.” He slid his hands down to Devon’s hips and hoisted him up until Devon was sitting on his chest. Devon laughed and threw his head back, exposing the long line of his neck and the dark bruises Rio had left there the night before.
Rio reached over to the unslept-on side of the bed and grabbed the discarded lube, accidentally waking up Maggie, who’d been sleeping on the pillow. She barked once in annoyance, then bounced off the bed and stalked over to her water bowl. Rio left the door to the hotel room’s tiny porch open, and he was pleased when Maggie headed out there a moment later. It was way too awkward having sex in front of your dog, and she seemed to agree, because she always made herself scarce when she sensed it coming. He coated the fingers of his right hand in cool lubricant and reached around behind Devon.
His hole felt a little warm and swollen, hardly surprising after spending so many hours getting fucked. Devon hissed lightly but pushed back into the pressure, and Rio slipped a finger inside of Devon’s body. His ass was unfathomably tight, all things considered, and seeing Devon writhe on top of his hand was a thing of beauty. “Gorgeous,” Rio murmured, a little surprised when he felt his cock stir despite all the hard use.
“Another,” Devon demanded breathlessly. Rio had long, thick fingers, and Devon knew how to move to get them hitting his prostate with every stroke. Rio added a second finger and Devon rolled his hips into it, undulating on Rio’s chest like a cobra rising up to face its handler. Each roll brought his erection closer and closer to Rio’s lips, and Rio used his free hand to tip Devon forward. He reached out and licked the head of Devon’s cock, and Devon half-laughed, half-gasped.
“Lean into it, baby,” Rio encouraged him. “Fuck my mouth.” Devon whimpered and tightened around his fingers, and Rio pushed him forward until his dick slid between Rio’s lips. He tasted like musk and sweat and sweet precome. Rio urged Devon into a rhythm, back and forth between his mouth and his fingers until Devon moved like a wave, smooth and controlled as he drifted between two high points.
He was getting close. Devon had some of the best staying power Rio had ever seen when he wanted to have it, but h
e could also have a hair trigger. Whenever he got together with Rio he tended to go the hair trigger route, and came over and over until he ran dry. Rio apparently turned him into nothing but quivering muscles and a brain full of fireworks.
Rio’s mouth was sloppy, his throat was open and his fingers were deep in velvet heat. Devon keened when Rio added a third finger, his hands wrapping around the back of Rio’s neck and fucking into him and against him. His hips arched, his mouth opened and as he threw his head back, Rio thought Devon looked like a martyr, like a painted saint experiencing rapture. He was passionate and unearthly beautiful, and he came with an ecstatic cry. He filled Rio’s mouth with hot cream, and Rio swallowed him down.
Devon whimpered happily as he floated down off his cloud. Rio gently disengaged his fingers and wiped them off on the blanket, eased Devon off of his chest, and pulled him down for a kiss. Devon licked the come out of Rio’s mouth, then collapsed happily against Rio. “That was lovely.”
“So are you.” Rio let him bask for another minute or so, then slid him off to the side and sat up. “Now, get dressed so we can debrief.” He took in Devon’s freshly-fucked look. “Maybe have another shower, actually.”
“You wanna have one with me?” Devon asked cheekily.
“Don’t start,” Rio warned, heading for the bathroom. First things first, he needed a toothbrush.
***
Fifteen minutes later, they were decent, Maggie was ensconced in Rio’s lap and Devon had Rio’s tablet set up to video conference. The line rang just once before Maria answered, only visible from the neck up. She was an unconventionally pretty woman, with straight dark hair pulled back into a ponytail and square-cut bangs that made her look strangely young. Her eyes were blue, her pale skin was freckled, and there was a shallow slash on the right side of her mouth, like a dimple that had been stretched too far. It pulled her lips down into a half-frown. “Finally.”