by Alex Jace
He stayed on his knees afterward, sticky and hot, his master’s fingers in his hair still keeping his face pressed into his master’s crotch. His head pounded.
The sorcerers were making fun of him for sucking cock in front of them. Kit tried to pull away, reddening, but Sebastian let him go only to lift his chin with a finger. “That was good, kitten. Thank you.”
Kit lowered his eyes, scarlet with embarrassment, still throbbing with the force of his climax.
Sebastian chuckled and took pity on him. “I think you need to cool off for a moment.”
Kit could not sneak out fast enough. He staggered dizzily when he first got up. The sorcerers’ laughter followed him out of the library.
Kit leaned against the cold stone outside, pressing himself into it, taking deep, steadying breaths. He kicked himself for the heat in his face, the tingle of desire that warmed his blood. He could still feel Sebastian’s grip on his hair as Sebastian had come in his mouth in front of everybody.
Heat swept over him again, mingled shame and pleasure. Sebastian was so… so… Kit could not even put words to it. Sebastian could coax him so easily into doing whatever he wanted, and somehow Sebastian always made it good for him. And then Sebastian would pet him and praise him and make him happy. Sebastian’s praise was a warm glow that settled inside Kit to brighten him from the inside out.
Kit took one last slow breath, and pushed himself away from the wall. Now that his heartbeat had settled, he should probably go back inside. Sebastian probably wanted his glass topped up.
It happened so fast Kit did not have a chance to object.
A shadow fell across him. He started to stiffen.
Then rough hands bundled him out of the hall into a storeroom. He got a glimpse of piled sacks of flour as his heart leaped into his throat. When he gasped, a hand clapped over his mouth. It tasted of salt. The door shut, plunging them into blackness; the hand over his mouth stifled his yelp. He tried to pull away, but blind, he was helpless.
The door locked. The click reverberated through him. He panicked, trapped, fighting for air.
“That’s better,” Alan said in his ear.
Recognition hit Kit the instant he spoke. Alan and Aaron had waylaid him once before. The memory jolted Kit with mingled terror and excitement: being bent over, held down, a knee pushing his apart. How he’d wanted it, feared it. He pulled half-heartedly against their grip, the hand over his mouth still stifling his protests.
“Nobody is coming now,” Alan promised him.
It was so intense Kit’s belly contracted and he couldn’t think. He wasn’t supposed to feel this shameful thrill that made his pulse skitter. But his master had given him permission to indulge all his fantasies, so if he wanted…
“Let’s have a look at him.”
The light clicked on. It was a bare bulb just above their heads, casting harsh shadows across the narrow space. They were crowded in together, Kit and these two strangers, one fair, one dark. Kit stared up at them, frozen. They looked so intent. So hungry.
“He is perfect,” Aaron said, his voice hoarse.
Alan took his hand from over Kit’s mouth. Kit tripped over his tongue. “What are you—”
Aaron lifted his chin with a thumb. Kit stammered into silence, struck by the heat in his eyes. Aaron drew that thumb slowly along Kit’s lower lip, and heat surged in Kit’s belly. Kit gasped.
“We made sure we’d have time,” Aaron said, low and intimate. “Get you good and ready for us.”
His thumb pressed lightly, seeking entry. Reflex kicked in and Kit took it in his mouth.
They stared at each other, Kit wide-eyed. Then Aaron captured his face in both hands and kissed him. Hard.
Kit yielded instantly, melting into him. Aaron kissed him as though to drown him, fingers tangling in his hair, teasing at his throat. Kit could not resist, it was hopeless, a storm surge that swept him up and tumbled him away. He needed this badly.
His knees gave and he stumbled into Aaron, who chuckled. Alan stepped in behind him, pressing, trapping him between their bodies. Aaron was hard against his belly, Alan against his ass. “It’s all right,” Alan said soothingly. “I know. You want it. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
Aaron deepened the kiss, demanding more. Kit clutched him, needing to hold on. Behind him Alan was kissing his throat, biting, making him hot and molten.
“Fuck,” Aaron said, breathless.
“I know. He’s so eager.” Alan pressed hard, grinding against Kit’s ass while Kit gasped for air.
Aaron’s mouth was just a fraction above his. Kit shivered in a haze, wanting to be kissed into oblivion. “Please.”
Aaron claimed his mouth again. Yes. So good.
Alan fumbled with Kit’s belt, pulled it out of its loops and bound Kit’s hands behind him. Kit’s breath hitched in his chest with sudden fear; he was not used to being tied up. The increased sense of helplessness sharpened every sensation, made him want even more to yield.
They opened his trousers, yanked them down. The cloth hit the floor. Kit made a half-hearted sound of protest; Alan took his cock boldly in hand, and Kit's protest yielded to a whimper. Alan grinned against his throat. “He’s hot for us.”
It was difficult to think past those stroking, teasing fingers. Alan pushed his feet apart, opening him. Another hand ran up Kit’s inner thigh and he gasped, arching into Aaron, suddenly trembling on the edge.
Aaron laughed. “Better do it, if we’re going to. Before he comes early.”
They bent him over a table. The table bit into his thighs, the ropes into his wrists. Somebody gripped the back of his neck, pinning his face against the table, smooth wood under his cheek. Kit’s voice went up the scale. “I don’t—I—”
“Do you want to be fucked or not?”
Yes. Badly. “Please.”
A rag stuffed into his mouth. It tasted of flour. Kit’s yelp strangled off. “Something to bite down on,” Alan told him. “So you don’t scream when we enter you.”
Kit’s belly tightened so hard he saw stars and he nearly came right then and there. Oh fuck, he needed this so badly.
Aaron pushed his legs apart, opened him wide. Kit shuddered under him, paralysed with fear and hope.
“Be good now,” Alan coaxed, keeping his face pressed into the table.
A slick finger pushed into him. The shock was so sudden that Kit nearly leaped off the table. Alan laughed. “Fuck, he’s tight,” Aaron said. The finger pressed deeper. Kit clenched, couldn’t relax, couldn’t adjust, pinned hard against the wood. Aaron’s voice tautened. “Tight as a virgin. He’s gripping my finger. Fuck.”
“Open him.”
“I’m trying.”
The finger crooked inside him. It was so strange, so invasive. Another finger pushed inside. Kit strangled out a whimper. It was sweet torment that they wouldn’t let him relax; every time the fingers moved inside him he clenched again. A third finger. He couldn’t get out words, not even sounds, biting hard on the rag.
“Let’s see…” Aaron rubbed the sweet spot inside him.
Pleasure exploded in the pit of Kit’s belly and Kit jolted against their hands, making a strangled sound. Alan chuckled.
“That’s better.” Aaron stroked him again, slow and deliberate, and Kit was clenching helplessly, so slick now, so sweet. Three fingers weren’t enough, he needed more. He pushed back against them.
Aaron’s voice had gone rough. “Oh, you want more? I’ve got something for you. Something big.”
Alan dragged Kit’s face into his crotch by the hair and gripped tight. There came the clink of a buckle behind Kit, the scrape of cloth. Kit shuddered. He could not be more open.
Aaron settled his weight on top of him, gripped him by the hips and slammed home.
Kit did scream, couldn’t help it, the sound torn from his throat. The invasion was so sudden that his whole body clenched violently. Aaron growled triumph in his ear, stiflingly heavy, impaling him on his cock. Kit gasped, shoo
k, trembled, helpless.
“Fuck me, he is tight.” Aaron pinned him down.
Alan stroked Kit’s hair, keeping Kit’s face in his lap. “I know. It’s so big you think you can’t take it all. But you can. Just relax.”
Aaron stayed still, gripping him hard, giving him a moment to adjust. Kit squirmed, finally relaxed, unclenching.
“That’s good. That’s so good. Well done.” Alan kept soothing him.
“Yes.” Aaron sounded breathless. Aaron shifted his weight, adjusted his angle. This time when he pulled out, pushed home, Kit choked on the rag as Aaron hit the exact right spot to make him see stars. “I can keep this up all night.” Aaron drew maddeningly out, pushed home again, making Kit’s belly clench, driving a whimper from Kit’s throat.
“Think he’s ready now,” Alan said.
“Tight and slippery. Mmm.”
Aaron kept up this slow, slow pace, teasing Kit as the heat built, as Kit’s muscles tautened, the need building like a fire. Kit was trapped. He couldn’t escape, he could only whimper. He started to squirm under Aaron’s weight and Aaron laughed. “Simmer down. You can come when we’re all finished.”
Kit made a helpless sound of frustration. Now Alan and Aaron were both laughing. Alan stroked his face as Aaron rocked his body with these slow, relentless thrusts.
Another minute adjustment of angle inside him and Kit arched off the table. It was so intense, so taut and sweet, and there was nothing he could do. Nothing. He was helpless.
Aaron gasped in his ear. “Fuck yes, that’s good.”
Alan gripped his hair, grinding against his face, panting. “Give it to him. Really give it to him.”
Aaron began taking him hard, slamming into him. Kit was yielding so intensely he couldn’t twitch, could barely even whimper. Aaron drove home once, twice, finally came, hot seed pulsing deep into Kit’s body. Kit tried to arch against him, tried to get over the edge but Aaron wouldn’t let him, holding him down.
For a while Aaron just lay on top of him, panting. Then Aaron peeled himself reluctantly away. “Fuck.” Kit trembled, tormented, empty.
“My turn?” Alan asked.
“Sure.”
Alan got behind him eagerly, fumbling his cock out. Kit bit down on the rag but couldn’t hold back his strangled sound as Alan thrust home. Kit was so slick now, so ready. Alan was pressing directly against that sweet spot and Kit made a stifled, desperate sound. His belly was so tight, the heat so insistent. He struggled under Alan, trying to get the right pressure, the right rhythm.
Footsteps rang on flagstones outside the door. They froze. Alan’s cock slipped in and out inside Kit. Kit made a helpless sound. Alan pinned him harder, a warning grip, but even the slightest movement inside Kit was unbearable. Kit’s climax obliterated everything: he shuddered, clenched, desperate, silent. Alan came too, pushed by the clenching of his body, filling him with seed.
For a while Kit just lay there, dazed. He ached unbearably. His heart was beating so hard it shook his whole body. Alan still pinned him down, braced over him, panting in his ear. Eventually Alan pulled out of him, leaving him empty. The footsteps had gone.
“Swap?” Aaron suggested.
Kit nearly groaned. It was never-ending. He couldn’t take this much rough treatment, this much relentless pleasure.
They turned him over onto his back. Alan cupped his face in both hands while Aaron pushed his legs apart, hands under his ass to angle him just right. Kit quivered, caught between them, spread open and helpless.
Alan stroked his hot cheek with one finger, his eyes predatory. He took the rag out of Kit’s mouth for a moment. “Should we stop?”
Aaron drove into him, and Kit moaned aloud, his eyes sliding closed. His world had narrowed down to their ruthless attention. “No,” Kit managed, his voice hoarse. “Don’t stop.”
Alan stuffed the rag back in his mouth.
#
Sebastian was not half as stupid as he sometimes found it helpful to pretend. He knew exactly why his guests were doing their best to distract him with conversation in the library. They thought he hadn’t realised that his two most annoying neighbours had sneaked off to kidnap his little incubus, who was undoubtedly getting ravished right now.
Sebastian let them think they were fooling him; it was nothing to him. People who thought they were more intelligent than him were easy to deal with. He drank his wine, and hoped his kitten was enjoying himself.
“… in about a week,” Hart said.
Oops. Sebastian had just missed something important. He rewound the last thirty seconds of conversation. “In a week?”
“Yes,” said Hart, with a malicious smile. “By then I should have a little treat of my own.”
Sebastian momentarily froze. He stared at Hart over his glass.
Hart lived a few miles over to the west of him, with an estate that was his own little kingdom, just like Sebastian with Summerhall. They had never been friends; Sebastian worked to maintain peaceful relations with the local sorcerers, but he counted only one as a true friend, and it wasn’t Hart. So Sebastian had had no idea that Hart was so close to summoning his own incubus.
All sorcerers wanted an incubus of their own. It was the ultimate prize, a display of power, to make something so inhuman so willing and obedient. The rituals were supposed to be complex, and Sebastian rarely met anyone who had managed them. Apparently Hart was quite confident that he would shortly be in possession of his very own incubus.
The silence stretched out, broken only by the crackling of the fire in the hearth, as Sebastian stared at Hart.
Sebastian normally thought of himself as a ruthless person, even callous. He did not spare much concern for those weaker than him. But ever since his favourite kitten had first sneaked into his arms, he had started having all kinds of strange feelings. Feelings that tightened his throat when he thought about how easily Kit could have ended up defenceless in the hands of someone like Hart. Sebastian had no illusions about how that would have gone. Kit would have been assaulted, enslaved, perhaps beaten.
Sebastian would kill anybody who laid a hand on Kit. No question about it. Compared to that, Sebastian didn’t give a fuck about the fragile peace that he had built between rival sorcerers in this little corner of the English countryside. Nobody touched Kit. And Sebastian was picturing Hart’s future incubus as Kit so strongly that the fury rose inside him like a tide and he had to grip the arm of his chair.
“Is there a problem?” said Hart, deliberately.
Bastard. Sebastian breathed, relaxed, and topped up his wine. “Not at all. Good luck to you.” He said it somewhat through gritted teeth, but unless he wanted to start a war, there was nothing he could do.
And in all honesty, Sebastian was not sure that this was so different to what he had done himself. Sebastian had captured a frightened incubus, deliberately seduced him, and taken him as his servant. Kit could not disobey him now; it was simply impossible. Sebastian had taken his rebellion away along with his freedom. Kit was compelled to obey him, to want him, to serve him body and soul.
Sebastian’s wine tasted bitter.
That night Sebastian held his little incubus tight, keeping him close and safe in the warmth of their shared bed. Kit was only too willing to snuggle closer and tuck himself under Sebastian’s chin. Sebastian kissed the top of his head and stroked the copper shine of his hair in the moonlight. Sebastian did not like to think what could have happened to him if he had been claimed by anyone else. How his charmingly shy kitten could have become a flinching shadow of himself.
Sebastian slid a little further down into the warm covers, tipped Kit’s chin up with a finger and dipped his head to kiss him. Kit reacted sleepily, one hand coming up to cup his face. Sebastian took his time preparing him before sliding into him, keeping it slow and sweet.
“Oh.” Kit’s dark lashes fluttered shut. It should be illegal to bite his lip like that, his teeth dragging against his soft lower lip, pure sex in one brief gesture.
<
br /> He was truly irresistible. Sebastian indulged every possessive urge before Kit came sweetly for him and Sebastian finally let go deep inside him.
“You’re my favourite person in the world,” Sebastian whispered to him, still getting his breath back. “You’re so sweet. So obedient. I’d never give you up. Never hurt you.”
“I know.” Kit snuggled into him with a little contented sigh that melted Sebastian’s heart. “I love you.” He had never said it before, but the words slipped out so easily in this sleepy state, as if he had said it a million times already.
Sebastian’s heart turned over and he had to swallow hard. He wanted to say, I made you love me. He wanted to say, You have no choice. But he didn’t. That would only hurt Kit’s feelings.
“I know you do.” Sebastian kissed him one last time. “Go to sleep.”
Sebastian lay awake for a long time that night, wondering.
If Kit would ever have loved him of his own free will.
If Kit really loved him now.
If anything between them would ever be real.
It took him a long time to sleep.
FREED
“It’s going to be absolutely fine,” Sebastian lied.
Kit pressed into his side. “I don’t want to go.”
“Kit.” Sebastian took him by the chin, capturing his attention; Kit stopped talking.
They stood in the great hall at Summerhall, with its vaulted roof and shining windows. Evening sun spilled in through the panes of glass to paint the tiled floor in warm gold.
Sebastian found his little incubus more irresistible every day, and sunset was clearly Kit’s colour. Kit was truly beautiful with his copper hair afire, all reds and golds, his eyes such a breathtaking green as he looked up at Sebastian. Sebastian found him particularly adorable when he was nervous like this, when he sneaked into the curve of Sebastian’s arm to be protected. Kit’s smaller form fit perfectly against him.