by Cari Z
“You are one. Smug. Bastard,” Devon said viciously. He was touching himself through the cloth, but it was more muscle memory than anything he was likely to get stimulation out of. Rio reached out and stretched Devon’s arms out to the side.
“Don’t move them,” he told Devon.
“Like I’ll know if I do.”
“I’ll know if you do,” Rio said, “and I’ll stop the show if you don’t keep them out there where they can’t do any damage to you.”
“Aww, you care,” Devon teased, but he didn’t move.
“Good boy,” Rio said, and Devon’s eyes went dark in an instant. That in and of itself was such a fucking turn on. Rio took his time unzipping his jeans as he thought about the best way to make this good for Devon, to make it enticing for all of his remaining senses. Rio pulled his jeans and his boxers down his thighs and stroked his stiffening cock and few times, eyes falling shut at the knowing feel of his own hand.
“I could suck you,” Devon said, sounding a little desperate. “I could suck you, and that way I could taste you. I want to taste you.”
“You’d worry,” Rio said, a little breathless as he jerked himself harder. The idea he had for his little show was a simple one, but it should do the trick. “No, baby. You just get to watch.” He stood up long enough to shed the rest of his clothes , then crawled up the bed to Devon’s body , and straddled Devon’s chest with his knees in Devon’s armpits.
“Just watch,” Rio repeated, leaning over Devon’s head and bracing one arm against the wall, the other hand working his cock right above Devon’s face. Fuck, his balls felt so heavy and full; he’d gotten so used to getting off with Devon lately that his body didn’t know what to do with a day off. It had to be so much worse for Dev, and Rio hummed under his breath, then let out a soft groan, a verbal accompaniment to the subtle sounds of flesh gliding over flesh. He was close enough that he knew Devon could smell him, smell his sweat, the hints of dirt and grass still clinging to him from playing outside with the kids. Dev was getting an eyeful, that much was clear from the way his vision was riveted to Rio’s fast-moving fist, and as for taste, well…
“You want me to come on you, baby?” Rio rasped, getting impossibly harder when Devon whined at his words. “You want me to paint your face with my load? Got a lot saved up here for you. I could get you so wet, get close and let my dick slide through the mess I leave all over your face.”
“Rio…” Devon panted, his eyes completely black, his mouth open. Damn, his mouth was so gorgeous.
“Tesoro mio,” Rio murmured, feeling his chest and groin tightening in preparation for his orgasm. “Drink me down.” He lowered the head of his cock to the very edge of Devon’s swollen lips and stroked himself a few more times, then let go. Fuck, but he came hard, squeezing his shaft to the edge of pain as he milked it for all that he was worth.
Most of his come ended up in Devon’s mouth, although some spilled over his bottom lip and ran down his chin. Devon swallowed greedily, and the taste [must have] triggered something in his subconscious because his body flexed instinctively; by the time Rio got himself together and glanced beneath him, there was a wet spot spreading across the front of Devon’s jeans.
“Oh shit, did I come?” Devon demanded breathlessly. “Seriously, I came? God damn it!”
“Didn’t feel a thing, huh?” Rio asked, rolling off of Devon’s body and laying down next to him.
“Not really…I mean, I love watching you, and my head got spinny like it does when I have an orgasm, but it didn’t feel…fuck!” Devon threw himself against Rio, impacting him way too hard, but Devon didn’t look like he was in the mood to care. “When this bullshit deal is over I am going to impale myself on your cock for an entire fucking week.”
“That might make doing our job a little difficult,” Rio said.
“Fuck the job.”
“Just meditate some, baby, you’ll get over it.”
Devon glared at him narrowly. “I will hurt you.”
“Aw baby, don’t be that way.” If looks could kill Rio would be so dead. “C’mon, shower with me. You can tell me more about the wicked things you plan on doing once you’re back online.”
Devon rolled his eyes but let Rio hoist him out of bed and into the bathroom.
They went to sleep pretty quickly that night, though Rio took a few minutes to check in with Maria before getting under the blankets. Devon arranged them to his satisfaction the same as last night, his head resting on Rio’s chest, and Rio let him. It was a comfort, actually; his dreams were filled with white fire and the screams of the impious, and starting awake only to realize that Devon’s snoring on his chest was a ground like he never felt when he was alone. Maggie didn’t count, and besides, she was sleeping in Jamie’s room tonight.
Their second day with Emile and Renard began much like the first one did, with no palpable change in Devon’s condition, but at least Maria had good news.
“He was staying at the Westin,” she told them around sips from her coffee mug. Rio had gotten her that mug at an airport in Java; he’d thought it very appropriate at the time. “Porter’s got a suite on the top floor of the North Tower that’s bigger than my house. We’re watching him, but he doesn’t seem to be doing much right now. It’s like he’s waiting for something.”
“Or someone,” Rio suggested. “Porter Grey’s a pretty big dog, but he was safe in Taiwan. Now he’s playing resident sorcerer for solipsists like Saint Peter on a continent that he knows has entire organizations out for his blood? Doesn’t make sense. Someone’s got to be pulling his chain.”
“Maybe,” Maria allowed, “but he was definitely a solo act in California. He had to be in control of everything; he didn’t teach his acolytes shit about summoning so that they’d remain reliant on him, which was great for us, but doesn’t explain why he would be working with someone else now.”
“They could have something he wants,” Devon said. His eyes looked a little haunted. “What if someone else has his favorite demon under their control? Summoners can form a bond with a demon if they call upon it enough times. Maybe somebody else is playing with his favorite toy, and he wants it back.”
“I hadn’t considered that. It’s…disturbing.”
“Yeah.” Rio was more than ready to end the conversation. “Maria, send us what you’ve got on Porter Grey’s movements in Seattle: his schedule, his contacts, where he gets his shoes shined, whatever. We should be back on the road by tomorrow afternoon.”
“Or evening,” Devon said, giving Rio a Look. Rio ignored it.
“The sooner the better, guys. We don’t know what he’s planning, and he might not be active now, but that could change at any time. We’re tracking Steven Sorensen too, incidentally. He flew in last night from Vegas. I suggest you give him a call once you get close to the city.”
“So we’re planning on trusting him, then?” Devon seemed pretty excited by the idea.
“We’ll see if his skills become necessary. You don’t have to trust him to work with him on a limited basis.”
They said their farewells and ended the call, and Rio looked at Devon for a long moment. “You like him.”
“Not as much as I like you,” Devon said, batting his eyelashes. He was pretty good at it for a guy who couldn’t feel whether his eyelids were moving or not. “But I wouldn’t kick him out of bed for eating crackers. Or kick him off of the couch, or out of the shower, or off the floor…”
“Off the dining room table,” Rio continued, ticking off locations where he and Devon’d had sex. “Off the railing of the balcony. Out of the bed of the truck. Out of the cab of the truck. Off of the hood of the truck—”
“Wait, when did we do it on the hood?”
“Two jobs ago. You were dressed like a Japanese school girl.”
Devon grinned widely. “Oh right! God, that was one of the best nights of my life. The Japanese are second to none when it comes to kink.”
“Yeah, I remember too, kinkster. I was sca
rred by that job. Scarred.” Rio stood up and helped Devon to his feet. “Come on, let’s go get some breakfast.”
Chapter Sixteen
Devon had always thought himself a pretty patient person. He’d learned patience first by force, following every command of his masters, and then by design, wanting to be good for Ren and Em, learning to focus and meditate. Yeah, sometimes he failed at taking things in stride, but overall he did a pretty good fucking job, he thought. Which was probably the only reason he wasn’t strangling Angelo right now. That and the fact that he couldn’t walk over to him unaided, but Devon was going to give his own exquisite personal restraint the lion’s share of the credit.
Angelo was flirting with Rio. Flirting with him. It was ridiculous, a thirteen year old boy, no matter how pretty he was, flirting with Rio Pagani. First off because Rio was Rio, he wasn’t the type to give in to flirting of any kind, secondly because he wasn’t a pedophile, and thirdly because Devon had clearly marked Rio as his personal territory, though Angelo was completely disregarding that in favor of being a snotty little bitch.
“If you keep making that expression, your face might freeze that way,” Ren remarked as he sat down next to Devon at the picnic table beside the dock. The rest of the group was a little ways off playing in the shallows, and Angelo was with them, cocking his head and making cow eyes at Rio and touching him—fucking touching him—on the arm and shoulder.
“Who does he think he is?” Devon muttered.
“Your talk didn’t go so well, then.”
“Hey, it’s not my fault Angelo won’t listen to reason,” Devon said. “I tried. I tried all day, remember? And Angelo just stayed sulky and now he’s trying to get back at me.” It wasn’t that Devon didn’t have compassion for his foster brother; he remembered being that age, and he remembered how incredibly frustrating it had been. But Angelo had no idea how lucky he was, and after a while Devon hadn’t been able to take the complaining anymore. He’d told Angelo to get over himself, and Angelo had responded like any wounded teen would and kicked him out of his room. Yesterday he’d given everyone the cold shoulder, and now, on the day Devon was supposed to be getting his sense of touch back, Angelo was putting all of his effort into keeping Rio preoccupied with him.
“Angelo’s just flexing his muscles,” Ren said calmly. “It won’t affect Rio, and it gives your brother an outlet for his energy. There’s no harm to it.”
“Whatever.”
Devon couldn’t feel Ren’s hand clasp his shoulder, but he could see him scoot closer along the bench, and the attempt at comforting made him feel a little better. “Why doesn’t our allure work on him?” he asked his dad quietly.
Ren shook his head. “It’s not my place to tell you. Suffice it to say, that man is well-protected against all sorts of things. He’s a good guy to have on your side.”
Devon huffed in exasperation. “I know he is, I just want to know why he is. What he is. I’ve known him for almost two years, but I hardly know anything about him.” He bit his lip, then winced.
“Don’t do that,” Ren chided him, “you’ll hurt yourself.”
“I know, it…” Holy shit. Holy shit, it hurt. It hurt. Devon bit down on his lip again. Not much, but there was the barest glimmer of pain, and that was…
He stood up so hastily that he almost fell over, but he could tell, at least, that he was about to fall. Devon could feel the ground. He could feel the ground!
He took off running, awkward and barely keeping his feet but determined. Rio turned around just in time for Devon to launch into his arms and wrap his legs around his waist.
“You—” That was all Rio had time to get out before Devon sealed their lips together, hard and hot and vicious. His allure welled up, feeding on Devon’s own lust, and he was barely able to keep it from spilling out and affecting his foster siblings.
“Go inside with him,” Em urged Rio. “We’ll stay out here until the edge is off.”
The edge? There was no edge, Devon was already over the edge, splayed against it, slit open by the sharpness of his need. Rio’s arms slid around his waist and held him tight, but all Devon knew was the heat of his lover’s mouth and how amazingly good it felt to press his hard dick against Rio’s stomach. Fuck, Devon wanted to strip him down and come all over him, lick it off and then do it over again. He writhed in Rio’s arms, desperate for more contact but unwilling to let go, and by the time Devon realized that they were in his bedroom, he was on his back on the comforter and Rio’s hand was sliding roughly into his pants.
One stroke, one fucking stroke, was all it took, and he came with a wail, teeth gritted, orgasm blooming and fading away like dandelion seeds on a breeze. It wasn’t enough. Nowhere near enough.
“Rio…”
“I know, baby.” Rio pulled Devon into an upright position and stripped his shirt off, then pushed him back again and removed his pants. His movements were quick, efficient, not sexy at all except that it was Rio doing it, getting Devon naked so he could fuck him, so he could take care of him. Devon sucked two of his own fingers into his mouth while he watched Rio strip, and before his lover had time to grab the lube, he slipped his hand down and pressed the fingers inside his body.
God, it burned so good. Everything felt good right now, the rub of the comforter against his back, the stir of air against his skin, the roughness of his own hand. He spread his fingers wide, stretching himself, then yelped when he felt one of Rio’s, larger and slick with real lubricant, enter him as well.
“More,” Devon begged.
“Not yet,” Rio said. His voice was low and gravelly, rough, Devon could practically feel the vibration of it against his hip where Rio’s mouth was. Rio controlled both of their hands, pressing in and pulling out of Devon’s body, way too slow, but Devon knew Rio wasn’t going to give in on that. Devon started to stroke himself with his free hand, spreading his cooling come all over his cock and delighting in the sticky feel of it.
Rio pushed another of his fingers into Devon just as he sucked the head of Devon’s cock into his mouth. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Devon chanted, another orgasm already threatening to overwhelm him. This was fast, even for him, but he’d gone without for days and he needed it and Rio was right there, and his tongue felt so good pressed to the underside of Devon’s cock, swirling slow and dirty over the head, and that—it—
He came again, squeezing down on their joined fingers, feeding Rio his come, and Devon gasped, straining for more even as the pleasure washed through his body, calming him. “Fuuuu…” He didn’t have the breath to complete it, the word draining away with his tension.
So much better. Better, but not good enough. He had been starved for sensation for days, and everything felt so much more powerful now because of it. Devon needed more, so much more. “In me,” he whispered hoarsely, bucking his softening cock further into Rio’s mouth. “Now. Now!”
Rio pulled back and licked his lips. He looked hungry, almost desperate, and Devon thrilled with the realization that it was all for him. Rio wanted him. He wasn’t just being kind, he wasn’t just getting Devon off because Devon needed it; he genuinely wanted him. That was just…perfect.
It was a lot more perfect a second later, when Rio pushed Devon further up the bed and climbed on, tilted Devon’s hips up with one broad hand on his lower back and thrust inside of Devon in one hard, fast motion. Devon didn’t know what the noise was that came out of his mouth, but he felt as if all the air had been driven out of his chest. Good fucking god…Rio was seven feet tall, and his cock more than matched the rest of his proportions. He was huge and hot and made Devon feel so small and tight and delicate.
Firm hands looped around his thighs to hold him up, and Devon watched wide-eyed as Rio began to move inside of him, just a swirling, circular motion at first. It felt so good, to be filled and held and taken. To feel Rio inside of him. Devon had never had another lover like him, so far beyond Devon’s allure but still wanting him so much.
“More,” he said,
and Rio nodded and thrust harder, moving Devon’s body with ease back and forth, back and forth on his cock. His hands were going to leave bruises on Devon’s thighs, and that was perfect. They’d be gone within a day; cambion healed fast, but while they lasted, Devon would touch them, press on them, and revel in the memory of so much sensation.
“God—” Rio bit off the rest of what he was going to say, the muscles in his jaw sharpening and twitching, but Devon didn’t have to use his allure to know what the other man was feeling. He was on the cusp of losing it, and Devon wanted them to come at the same time. He kept his gaze on Rio, taking in the dull gleam of his sweaty skin, the rhythmic bunching of his muscles and his dark, fathomless eyes. All of this was Devon’s, all of the exertion and focus and desire, and every long, thick inch of the cock splitting his ass open right.
Devon felt Rio’s rhythm begin to stutter and he stroked himself faster. As soon as Rio drove deep and let himself go, Devon arched his back and wailed helplessly with his third orgasm in a quarter hour. God, he ached, sharp and empty in his balls, and everywhere else with the novelty of his first real exertion in three days. It felt amazing.
Rio crumpled like a broken flower, bending slowly until his head rested on Devon’s chest and his grip on Devon’s legs had shifted to a more comfortable hold around his waist. He didn’t pull out, for which Devon was grateful, just lay close and quiet as they both regained their breath. Devon ran his hands over Rio’s shoulders and neck, greedily touching every inch he could reach.
“Mmm,” he hummed happily, “that was perfect. Let’s do it again.”
Rio chuckled, but shook his head. “We have to get going. We need to be to Seattle by tonight.”
“It’s just a five-hour drive,” Devon protested, tightening his ass experimentally. Rio pinched his side. “Ouch! Bastard.”