Dreamspinner Press Year Six Greatest Hits

by JD Ruskin

  “What?” Arthur tried again, pushing up and getting a hand between them to get at his zipper. Bertie swatted his hand away and licked at him when Arthur moaned.

  “The fairy,” Bertie spoke shortly and put a hand to Arthur’s hip to hold him still. Then Arthur thought he felt teeth. He almost blacked out when that made his blood pound harder, made it agony to move and know no relief was coming, but no matter how he tried Bertie didn’t let him move up as he made his way slowly, too fucking slowly, down Arthur’s chest. As if this was really, finally happening.

  Arthur dragged his hands along Bertie’s back where the skin was like silk. Bertie stopped. His roar wasn’t quite a word, but Arthur thought he heard his name, like a plea that coiled up inside Arthur as tight as a spring. Bertie slid his mouth over Arthur’s stomach and shifted over him again. Forget fairies, Arthur thought, breathing raggedly in and out, he had this.

  “Clem—” He stopped himself before he said the name, somehow sure it was wrong to say it now, and then struggled to think of anything to say at all. “He… that was different,” he insisted. Bertie growled anyway, the sound hitting Arthur deep inside, in a place dark and lonely.

  It was dangerous to make a dragon jealous, but Arthur wet his mouth again because he couldn’t do anything else, and he wanted Bertie to want him that much. “Clematis,” he began to explain, though he was underneath a dragon without even a shield to protect him, and gasped because those were teeth against his skin. They were as sharp as Bertie’s voice was soft. Arthur would come right that second if Bertie weren’t careful.

  “Please, pet. Please.” But Bertie wasn’t pushing inside him or holding him down, he was begging Arthur for information about Clematis, wanting Arthur to want him more.

  Arthur’s hand found its way to Bertie’s cheek. “No, it was…” He tried to think of his ex and could only get flashes of glitter and giggles and the taste of sugar. “It was fun.”

  The second growl hit him in the stomach and traveled, white hot and heavy, down to his balls. He pushed up and groaned when Bertie continued to hold him down. Arthur shook his head and realized his voice was the barest rasp. “But this is…” frightening and intense and amazing. Deathly good and terrifying at the same time. If he could have, he would have fallen to his knees. He sucked down a breath at the thought of declaring himself as Bertie’s boy so obviously. It didn’t do any good. The thought made him writhe. “This is serious business.”

  The low rumble against his palm and then his hipbone sounded a lot like “darling.” But he had no time to wonder if Bertie had understood what he meant, because Bertie abruptly pulled away and knelt back, watching with all-black eyes as Arthur trembled. Then he slid one hand over Arthur’s hip and put the other over Arthur’s fly.

  Arthur arched his hips up, frowning at Bertie when the glide of the zipper took too long and then inhaling in relief and pleasure when Bertie licked at his lips, probably to taste the precome in the air. Maybe he did, or maybe he smelled how close Arthur was to begging, because in the next second he shoved Arthur’s pants down in one rough motion and pulled down Arthur’s underwear with them. Bertie didn’t give Arthur a chance to do much more than try to kick to get rid of the tangled mess, and then he settled back down between Arthur’s legs.

  He must have understood what Arthur meant by serious business, because the tongue that tasted the skin around Arthur’s belly button took its time, and the nip that followed was gentle.

  “Arthur.” Bertie’s body was mostly out of reach, but his mouth, his hot mouth, was close enough to make Arthur go tense. “Arthur, I wouldn’t leave you.” Contempt for Clematis left the air charred, but Bertie slipped a slow hand between them to tease Arthur’s balls.

  Arthur looked down at Bertie’s sleek black hair, the rasping stubble almost at his thigh, and the full lips close to his dick. The room was trembling.

  “I don’t want you to,” Arthur wanted to say, but he forgot everything when Bertie turned to taste the head of Arthur’s cock before sucking it into his mouth.

  It had been forever since Arthur felt this and it had never been Bertie, with his hands pressing into Arthur’s skin like he wanted more and his curling tongue that could smell and taste everything.

  Arthur reached out until his hands were flat at Bertie’s shoulders, and he arched up the moment Bertie’s hands slid to the couch. Bertie let him this time, breathing hard and drooling wetly around Arthur’s dick. Arthur closed his eyes and tried, tried not to move anyway, but his cock was sliding into a hot, wet mouth, into a tight throat, and he was so hard that for a second when he heard the greedy sounds escaping Bertie, he thought he was the one making them.

  He shifted up, just an inch this time, maybe less, and Bertie didn’t laugh a delighted fairy laugh at his eagerness or impatience, he didn’t do anything but swallow and take more and make choking, embarrassing noises that Arthur couldn’t bear to hear because he wanted Bertie inside him too. That much, maybe even more. He wanted Bertie inside of him almost as much as he needed to come, to hear Bertie tell him to. Bertie would want him to, he’d purr it if he could. “Come, Arthur pet. In my mouth please, treasure.” And the idea of the words was like the firm heat of his tongue under Arthur’s cock, a soft stroke and a whispered request. Arthur would do anything Bertie asked, didn’t Bertie know that?

  “Bertie,” it slipped out in that same raw voice, louder than Arthur had ever said it, and he shut his eyes tight and imagined Bertie’s voice again, begging him, pouting at him for not spurting come into his mouth for him to taste. He thrust up and then came, sudden and hard until he couldn’t do anything but twitch as Bertie swallowed around him.

  He opened his mouth and left it open for a long time so he could catch his breath. He stared up at the ceiling until Bertie pulled away from his sensitive, soft dick and climbed back into view.

  Arthur couldn’t make out his expression. It was too like what his expression was in a room full of blindingly bright treasure, but he recognized the smug curve to his lips and the quick dart of his pink tongue.

  “Arthur.” The slow murmur against his mouth was deep and sweet and flavored with his come, which wasn’t sweet at all. Arthur thought vaguely of fairies one more time and then put his hands back into Bertie’s hair before he raised his head. With his mouth against Bertie’s ear, Bertie wouldn’t see his face.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled over his embarrassment at coming so quickly.

  “I don’t mind. In fact, I… thank you.” Bertie surprised him again since Arthur was sure he was supposed to be the one saying that here. “It was flattering. Not everyone cares for dragon bodies when we’re changed like this, and I thought… I wasn’t sure about you.”

  “Not sure?” Arthur’s voice was husky. He pulled back enough to watch Bertie blink awkwardly at him. Bertie looked like he wanted to blush again. “You couldn’t tell?”

  “Dilated pupils can also mean fear, dear boy,” Bertie teased after clearing his throat, but the way he exhaled against Arthur’s skin was warm. He moved his hips, just a little, and Arthur automatically inched his legs open wider.

  “You couldn’t…” Arthur hesitated and then tried a lick under Bertie’s ear. His tongue couldn’t detect the things that Bertie’s could, but it felt good, and Bertie seemed to think so too. He curled into Arthur and grasped at him, so Arthur did it again before he scowled and thought about his next question. “You couldn’t smell it?”

  “Ah.” Bertie either sensed his confusion or was just making sounds for what Arthur was doing to him. Arthur had never thought about rendering a dragon speechless, but at the moment it seemed like something he really should try. “That… oh, Arthur… that isn’t how it works, as such. Arthur, please.” Bertie’s breathing hitched as Arthur dared more, licking at Bertie’s jaw, spicy and clean, but he allowed Arthur to push him up and back onto the cushions and said nothing that didn’t indicate acquiescence when Arthur straddled his hips. Arthur could feel the powerful, hidden strength beneath him w
hen Bertie breathed in, his body rolling under Arthur as if Bertie could move mountains.

  The air stuttered out of him, leaving him weak and wanting to apologize, but Bertie’s eyes closed and his voice was quiet and eager. “Please, Arthur.”

  “How does it work?” Arthur asked to distract him from how clumsy he was with the remaining buttons, not that Bertie seemed to care. He shrugged his shirt off and then took Arthur’s hand and pulled it to his crotch. Arthur instantly spread his fingers over the bulge, though he also scowled to himself, because he wasn’t completely a virgin here. He didn’t need that much guidance.

  He bent down to suck a mark onto Bertie’s shoulder and scooted up until he was in Bertie’s lap. He wanted to move in time to Bertie’s heavy breathing but he didn’t want to take his hand away either.

  “You cruel thing, asking these questions now,” Bertie whined but eased up when Arthur pulled down the zipper to lightly touch the slick, wet fabric stretched over his cock. He paused to exhale and then opened his eyes. “Arthur.” Bertie was practically vibrating. “It’s not about what I smell as much as it’s what the scents trigger in me. What they make me want to do. Don’t tease, darling.”

  “What….” Arthur’s mouth was dry. “What do they trigger? What do you want to do?” He kept his head down but stared with wide eyes as he peeled away damp silk to look at Bertie’s cock. It was normal. Uncircumcised, but big like he thought before, thick and flushed darkly. It was also hard—hard for Arthur. Just thinking about it made Arthur feel hungry. He swallowed as he bent down. When he slid back he breathed in to catch the scent, trying to think of how it might make Bertie feel. He knew how it made him feel. He wet his mouth.

  Bertie whined again, then let out a small, unsatisfied roar.

  “What I want?” he asked in disbelief. His eyes were riveted to Arthur’s face. “I want to take you and keep you.”

  Arthur met his stare for one moment, feeling the heat spread through him, and then he ducked his head. He couldn’t do what Bertie had done, but he could spread his fingers over Bertie’s stomach and press down as he used his tongue to explore Bertie’s foreskin.

  Bertie’s breath hissed out of him. “Arthur.” He didn’t push up, not much. From the corner of his eye Arthur saw one of Bertie’s hands stretch over velvet, and then Bertie drew in another long, long breath. “Arthur,” he started again, but Arthur shook his head mutely and adjusted his position to get more comfortable. His hair fell forward, but only for a moment and then Bertie was sweeping it back for him. It was like being petted, but Arthur didn’t care. It was embarrassing how much he liked it, how much he’d like to be Bertie’s pet, his boy, how much he wanted to be kept.

  He moved his head forward until there was weight on his tongue and then tightened his lips. Bertie wasn’t a fairy. There was no laughter, not like that anyway, though when Arthur stopped moving there was a strangled sound from Bertie that could have been a laugh. But it wasn’t breezy and it wasn’t light and it wasn’t followed by teasing instructions or the kiss of glitter at his back.

  Arthur took his hand away from Bertie’s stomach and raised his gaze up to Bertie’s face. Of course he was watching, but his eyes were dark and he wasn’t moving, as if anything that Arthur wanted to do was fine by him. Arthur used his tongue, letting his spit and the satiny taste he lapped up mingle on his taste buds before he swallowed.

  “Darling,” Bertie purred with his head back, and the word shouldn’t have been as dirty as it was. Arthur’s hips pushed forward as he hummed over the taste difference between fairy and dragon. He wasn’t hard, but the bitter taste on his tongue made him want to slide his body forward until he was on top of Bertie. He lifted his head and felt stinging hot at the sound of Bertie’s cock popping free of his mouth.

  Bertie made a noise too, low with loss and frustration until Arthur moved closer, shifting up to fit in his lap. Arthur ducked his head because he had no grace, not like Bertie, but when he rocked and settled himself over Bertie’s legs and Bertie’s cock slid against his ass, Bertie choked out his name.

  Arthur couldn’t resist moving again at that, shifting his hips experimentally after Bertie’s groan and then one more time when Bertie panted at his ear. His hand pushed down between them and went to Arthur’s dick, which was throbbing but not stiff, and then crept over to Arthur’s thigh. Arthur opened his mouth wide, gasping over Bertie’s throat. He felt muscles move when Bertie swallowed and almost, but not quite, scraped his teeth over Bertie’s jugular and the path of those hidden scales. He felt Bertie’s voice too; it trembled under his lips.

  “Arthur.” Bertie’s other hand fell weakly through Arthur’s hair, curving over his ear and then his jaw. Arthur turned his head without thought and sucked Bertie’s thumb into his mouth. He just needed something inside him.

  Bertie’s hips left the couch. Arthur pushed him down by rocking against him. He didn’t stop because Bertie begged him not to and because it felt right, the sticky pulse, the heat, the freedom to run his hands over the skin of Bertie’s stomach, taut as a drum. He rolled his hips and grunted when Bertie rose up to meet him. Bertie’s fingers dug into Arthur’s lower back. It was only for a moment, and then his hand fell away and Arthur realized Bertie was biting back a growl.

  He couldn’t look up—he couldn’t. He wasn’t hot or very experienced but he could do this. He could make Bertie come, and right now that was all he wanted.

  “Don’t stop, Arthur.” Bertie’s praise was rough but intimate against Arthur’s ear; it worked its way down Arthur’s back and made him grind down, harder than Clematis had done to him. He wanted Bertie to come, wanted to ride him and please him, and he couldn’t rain down glitter, but he could nip at Bertie’s skin and twist against his cock. But he gasped when Bertie pulled his hand from Arthur’s mouth.

  “Bertie,” Arthur protested in shock as the thick weight of Bertie’s thumb slid out of his mouth. He raised his head, leaving his mouth open and empty and his chest heaving. He would have died of humiliation if Bertie hadn’t been staring at him like Arthur was a dream come true.

  “May I?” he asked as if Arthur knew what he meant, but when he ran his wet thumb along Arthur’s lower lip, Arthur parted both lips wide to take in his fingers. He knew Bertie was watching and blushed hot but curled his tongue around Bertie’s two fingers and drew them in to the last knuckle. He sucked until Bertie was groaning, his voice getting rough and strange. “You make me want everything.” He was breathing heavily, his body thrusting up as Arthur worked his fingers. Then he inhaled sharply, cutting himself off as he pulled his fingers away.

  Before Arthur could react, he moved that hand to Arthur’s hip and then around to his ass. His eyes were steady on Arthur’s face as he slid those wet fingers even lower.

  Arthur exhaled shakily and arched back into the stroking touch. He glanced away, then back when Bertie whispered, “Arthur you don’t know what you do.” Arthur moved mutely against Bertie in reply, because if Bertie pressed in, Arthur would be hard again.

  “Bertie.” Saying the name was just like he’d thought it would be, longing and soft against Bertie’s skin, along his neck.

  Bertie pulled him close and held him there, pushing up to meet Arthur’s every wild move and gasping out Arthur’s name over and over, as if he was weak and wasn’t digging marks into Arthur’s hip or teasing him with two wet, hot fingertips.

  Arthur bent his head to put his mouth over shining shades of black, untouchable unless he sucked them to the surface, like a bruise.

  Bertie’s hand scrabbled at his side and he moaned. Arthur used his tongue, his teeth, until Bertie was arching up and coming, coming hot and fast on Arthur’s thighs, under his ass, possibly all over the velvet couch. Arthur rocked into him until Bertie fell back. It took him longer to pull his mouth from Bertie’s skin, to realize that he’d marked Bertie while rubbing himself all over his lap, but when he started to sit back Bertie threw one arm loosely around him to keep him still.

  “
Arthur, won’t you stay just a little longer?” he spoke in a sleepy, warm voice and sighed. Arthur looked up. Bertie’s eyes were closed, though there was a slight grin at his mouth. Arthur glanced away from him and around the room, but there was no reason to get up. After a second he wiggled a little to try to get more comfortable, then gave up when Bertie put a hand between them without opening his eyes. He gave Arthur’s dick one lazy stroke as if gauging Arthur’s state and then smacked his lips.

  “Just give me a few minutes, dear boy,” he murmured and seemed oblivious to Arthur’s wide-eyed stare as he shut his eyes. In seconds his breathing evened out, and Arthur realized that despite his words, Bertie had fallen asleep.

  THE BREATHING in Arthur’s ear woke him up and he turned toward it with only a partial awareness of feeling sticky and oddly contorted. There was soft velvet at his back and then something like hot silk, like moving hot silk, under his palms and against his chest.

  It was heavy too, and he opened his eyes. Surprise almost stopped his heart. For one second as he realized that a dragon was asleep on top of him, he wasn’t sure his heart didn’t stop. Then he became aware of things like the unpleasant, gross feeling around his ass and how he was perilously close to the edge of the cushions.

  The fire was dying but Arthur was itchy with sweat. Bertie must have gotten him onto his back at some point and fallen asleep half on top of him. Arthur couldn’t say whether Bertie had been a dragon then or not; he couldn’t recall.

  He blinked and looked over at a peacefully sleeping Bertie, at the side of his neck, which was now covered in black scales. There wasn’t even a hint of the hickey Arthur had given him earlier.