Bullet ab-19

by Laurell K. Hamilton

  Micah moved beside Asher’s long, slender legs. “Boots first,” he said.

  Nathaniel climbed up on the bed so he was on my side but lower down so he mirrored Micah. “I thought you were going to watch,” I said.

  “I changed my mind, unless you don’t want five of us?”

  I smiled at him. “I’m fine with it if Mephistopheles is okay with it.”

  He was already stroking his fingers over the very edge of Asher’s leather pants. He was feeling the texture of the leather, and very carefully not going lower on the other man, or maybe he was just feeling the more intricate texture of the leather at what would have been the belt area, where instead of a belt the pants had their own interwoven lacings.

  Asher was watching him stroke the leather. The look of naked longing that he’d had earlier in this very room with Jean-Claude and Richard was missing. His face was very careful, but his eyes followed the other man’s movements.

  “I think he’s okay with it,” Nathaniel said.

  The three of us exchanged a look and then I nodded. “Boots first,” I said.

  They each started to work one of the soft leather boots down his legs. I went to the top of his pants and undid the front lacings. Mephistopheles helped me ease the leather apart. “I like the pants.”

  “You’ll be seeing a lot of leather here,” I said. We had Asher’s pants open enough that Mephistopheles could trace the scars where they went below the pants line. His touch was still delicate as his fingers slid down inside Asher’s pants, tracing the trickling line of scars as if he weren’t bothered at all that he was putting his hands down another man’s pants.

  Asher’s eyes closed and I caught a look on his face. If Mephistopheles had groped him for real he’d have been a very happy vampire, but the other man said, “The scars stop.” If he found it titillating, it didn’t show in his voice or his reaction as his hand came back to light.

  “Not exactly,” I said, “but we’ll have to get him out of the pants to show you what I mean.”

  Micah and Nathaniel got Asher’s boots off and Nathaniel put them over the side of the bed. Mephistopheles cheerfully helped me peel the leather pants down Asher’s body. He didn’t react when he saw him nude. But when he saw that the scars continued on the side of Asher’s thigh he started tracing the thin line of scars. Micah and Nathaniel took over pulling the leather down the rest of all those long legs, until the only thing Asher was wearing was the open shirt.

  Mephistopheles went back to the scars on his chest and stomach. “These are a lot deeper.” His fingers traced down the thigh and the thin line that crawled across the thigh toward the groin. “But this is light.” He looked at Asher’s face. “It’s like they couldn’t bear to ruin your face or your junk.”

  “They didn’t do to my face what they did to my chest,” he said, “but they didn’t spare me elsewhere. I wasn’t circumcised. The foreskin was horribly scarred. I was . . . ruined for more than a century.”

  “But the scars were all in the foreskin?” Mephistopheles asked.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Why would they do that?” he asked.

  “They wanted to burn the devil out of me.”

  “There’s a little more scarring,” I said, and moved Asher’s thigh so the thin scar on the inner thigh was visible.

  Mephistopheles traced his fingertips over Asher’s inner thigh just like he had everything else. He was all about the texture and didn’t seem to differentiate between what he was touching, focused only on how it felt.

  I glanced at Asher’s face while he did it. He and I locked eyes for a moment. He gave me no clue, no encouragement, but he didn’t discourage what I was thinking, either, and he had to know I was thinking it.

  “There’s one more scar,” I said. I ran my hand over Asher’s testicles, and he reacted to that with a small wriggle against the bed. Mephistopheles didn’t react to it in any way that I could see. I moved my hand enough to show the thin white line that traced the loose skin.

  His fingers traced along that scar as they had every other one. There was no moment of homophobic hesitation. I couldn’t tell if he was moved by Asher’s nudity or not. His reactions were odd, and that made it hard to judge, but he wasn’t bothered by it, either. I knew from experience that the scar on Asher’s balls was harder to touch, because the skin moved. To really feel it, you had to do more than just run your fingertips over it.

  Mephistopheles figured that out, and took the skin gently between his fingers so he could trace the scar back and forth. Asher’s body was starting to react to being touched. I ran my hand up the shaft of him and began to stroke over and around him while Mephistopheles played with his balls. He wasn’t playing with them the way Asher liked, he was mostly playing with just that line of scar, but he didn’t stop exploring when I started doing Asher by hand, either. But for the life of me I still couldn’t tell if Mephistopheles was okay with touching another man, or if he was just after the texture in an almost nonsexual way.

  Asher grew long and hard in my hand. Mephistopheles kept exploring lower. He wasn’t just tracing the texture of the scar now, but the texture of the skin and the delicate bits inside. He’d actually closed his eyes so he could concentrate on just the touch.

  I wasn’t sure how to move us past this, or if I should. Asher was getting more touch from the new guy than he’d gotten from anyone else until just yesterday. I didn’t want to spoil it for him, but . . . I looked at Micah for a clue, or an assist.

  It was Nathaniel who said, “There are enough of us to do oral on two of us at the same time.”

  It made Mephistopheles open his eyes and his hand go still around Asher’s body. “Who does who?” he asked.

  “Do you want to go down on someone, or have someone go down on you?” Nathaniel asked. I realized that of the three of us he was the least fazed.

  Mephistopheles grinned. His hand stopped playing with Asher and rested on his hip in a gesture that was very comfortable. “It’s oral sex. I’d like someone to do me.”

  “If you go orally then you don’t get to fuck anyone,” Nathaniel said.

  He frowned. “Hard choice.”

  “Are you good at giving oral?” Nathaniel asked.

  He smiled and the look was enough. “No complaints.”

  “Any compliments?” I asked.

  That seemed to puzzle him for a moment and then he said, “Some, yeah, but I mostly go on the whole screaming and eyes rolling back into their head as the compliment.” He was back to being pleased with himself.

  “Screaming, so girl,” I said.

  “Mostly,” he said, “but oral sex is like kissing; close your eyes and you can’t tell who’s kissing you, only that it feels good.” He made an unhappy face. “Except for facial hair, and I can’t get past that.”

  “No one in the bed has facial hair,” I said.

  He smiled. “So it works out.”

  What I wanted to ask was, did he honestly not have a preference between guy or girl, but I was afraid if I asked the question that he’d suddenly decide he did; I figured if we just kept acting like it was no big deal, he would just go along with it. I’d never been with anyone like this, where there wasn’t some strong preference one way or the other. It was a little unnerving.

  Asher said, “Have you ever had a vampire go down on you?”

  “No,” he said.

  “Do you like pain?”

  “You mean with sex?”

  “I do.”

  “Not that much.”

  Asher opened his mouth wide, flashing the delicate but very there fangs. “Then you don’t want me going down on you.”

  “Good point,” and then he laughed at his own accidental joke. “So, I go down on you?”

  Asher blinked at him and then said with no change of expression, “That works for me.”

  43

  NORMALLY I HAVE trouble getting naked in front of a stranger, but Mephistopheles was so unembarrassed, so totally at home with it
all, that it was almost impossible to be uncomfortable around him. If he honestly had as few hangups as it seemed, he’d be damn near refreshing.

  The clothes came off, and he made good on his offer. Some men, like some women, will go down on someone, but they do it as if it’s a duty, something that’s expected, not something they enjoy. The new man closed his eyes and treated Asher’s body the way he’d treated touching our scars, like he wanted to feel every texture change in the other man’s body. He sucked, rolled, lipped, kissed, and just enjoyed everything he could do with Asher.

  It was only when Asher shuddered, spine bowing, head thrown back against the pillows that Mephistopheles raised his face up and looked up the long line of Asher’s body. He drew his mouth off of him with a smile, hand still wrapped round the base of his penis. “You taste close.”

  Asher could only nod.

  Mephistopheles looked at the three of us on the other side of the bed. “Why are you just watching?”

  “I like to watch,” Nathaniel said.

  “I wanted to watch Asher’s reactions to what you were doing,” I said.

  Micah said, “I knew they wanted to watch.”

  He grinned at all of us, his hands still playing around Asher’s body so that he kept him long and hard, and didn’t lose any ground. “Trade me,” he said.

  Micah and I blinked at him. I said, “What?”

  Nathaniel said, “Okay.” He moved from between us and crawled toward them. I was beginning to get the idea that maybe Nathaniel was more comfortable with a lot of things than we were, but without anyone else in the bed that comfortable, he’d been gentle with us.

  Micah put me very firmly in front of his body. I got the distinct impression that it was one thing for Nathaniel to have crossed certain bridges after two years, but a different issue for a strange man. I would have said I was projecting, but the firm grip he had on my shoulders, and the fact that he stretched my body down the length of his as he lay back against the bed, both mirrored what Jean-Claude and Richard had been doing with Envy, and used my body as a happy shield.

  I was caught between watching Mephistopheles crawling to us, nude and erect for the first time, and Nathaniel settling himself between Asher’s legs. I watched Nathaniel’s mouth slide over Asher, and felt the sight of it tighten things low and hard in my body. I’d enjoyed seeing Mephistopheles go down on Asher, but I’d enjoyed Asher’s reactions to it more. But watching Nathaniel and Asher like that did more for me. It wasn’t just watching men doing each other; it was watching the men I loved do each other.

  Hands stroked my hips, then slid inside my thighs. It made me gaze down at the man who was settling between my legs. He slid his hands under my ass. “You are beautiful,” he said, as he lowered his face toward me.

  I’d never tried to be this intimate this quickly with a stranger without the ardeur. I’d never tried anything quite like this with just me in my head. I felt my body tense, and Micah’s hands slid over my breasts, cupping them, kneading them. It made me put my face back next to his so he could kiss me, as Mephistopheles lowered his mouth to me. I got glimpses of Asher and Nathaniel as my eyes fluttered open and shut. Then I gave myself to the men touching me and lost track of all else. Micah put his hand under my chin, keeping my face upturned so he could kiss and explore my mouth with his lips and tongue. The kiss made me grind my body against the front of his, and I felt his body begin to swell against my back. Mephistopheles licked between my legs and it drew a small sound that Micah ate with his kisses. His other hand tightened on my breast the way he knew I liked it. Mephistopheles plunged his tongue between my legs, and it made me cry out again, pushing against Micah’s body, his mouth pushing at mine. His tongue found the center between my legs and began to lick, long, slow strokes. I writhed against his mouth, Micah’s body, Micah’s mouth, and both their hands.

  Mephistopheles began to shorten his strokes, licking around and over, up and down, over that sweet spot. He began to lick in short, quick flicks of his tongue, and I felt that warm, heavy, weight growing between my legs. I whimpered into Micah’s mouth as he continued to kiss and explore me. He rolled my nipple between his fingers and pinched, knowing that little bit of pain would push the pleasure for me.

  Quick flicks of Mephistopheles’ tongue, fast and faster: One minute it was a building warmth, heavy and delicious, and the next lick he pushed me over that sweet edge. I screamed my orgasm into Micah’s mouth, my body spasming between them. Mephistopheles set his mouth around me and sucked so that the orgasm grew and grew. He tightened his hands around my thighs to keep me from bucking too hard against him, and Micah held me with both arms to keep me still, or as still as he could. He finally let me tear my mouth away from his so I could scream my pleasure.

  I felt Mephistopheles hesitate as if I’d startled him, and then he went back to sucking, until my eyes fluttered back into my head and my body was limp and twitching between them.

  Micah whispered against my face, “Is that enough?”

  I managed to tap my hand on the bed, which was one of our signals when we were rendered speechless with orgasm. Micah laughed and said, “She’s done.”

  Mephistopheles gave one last long lick that made me cry out again and writhe against Micah’s body. I could feel him hard and ready against my back, and I wanted that between my legs. I so wanted that.

  I felt the bed move, and Mephistopheles wasn’t between my legs anymore. If I could have opened my eyes I would have looked to see where he’d gone, but the next minute I didn’t have to look, I could feel. The tip of him was pushing against my opening while I still lay back against Micah’s body.

  I struggled to make my eyes work enough to watch him above me, but about the time I tried the head of him slipped inside me and my eyes rolled farther back into my head, spasming my body against Micah. Mephistopheles began to push his way inside me, and he was big enough and wide enough that just that made the orgasm aftershocks of the oral sex continue. My body spasmed around his, and I felt him shudder above me.

  I struggled to open my eyes and look at him. I managed to see his face above mine, his body held up on his arms, his lower body pressing in against me. His eyes were closed, his face turned away. I heard him mutter, “God, she’s spasming around me, so tight.”

  Micah said, “The first time is amazing.”

  “Is she always like this?” he asked in a breathy voice.

  “After oral sex, yes,” Micah said.

  Mephistopheles worked his way until I felt my body stop, before his did. It made me open my eyes, made me look down to find that he was buried as deep inside me as he could go, our bodies wedded to each other. Just seeing it made me cry out, my body pushing against his.

  “God,” he whispered, “I don’t want to hurt her, but, God!”

  “You won’t hurt her,” Micah said.

  I found enough of myself for me to whisper, “Fuck me.”

  “What?”

  “Fuck me,” I said.

  Mephistopheles looked behind me at Micah. He said, “Do it.” Micah was so hard and so big pressed against my back, and the other man was big and hard and inside me. The combination made me scream and try to put my nails in someone’s flesh. Micah pinned my arms against me, and being held even that little bit upped everything for me. I bucked between them and that was it. Mephistopheles drew himself out of me just enough and began to fuck me. He found a deep, pounding rhythm and with my body raised against Micah’s he couldn’t get deep enough to hurt me. It was just deep, thick, pounding fucking, but Micah had angled me so that Mephistopheles would have had to change position to hit hard at the end of each stroke. Micah’s own body was pushed against me. Not in me, not even close, but I felt his body grow wet and I knew it was his own excitement lubricating against my back. It made me begin to move more for both of them.

  Mephistopheles’ body began to lose its rhythm, and I felt him fight to keep it, to last. He recovered the thick, stroking rhythm of his body into mine, and I felt tha
t deep, heavy build of orgasm begin. I said in a voice gone breathless, “Close, I’m close.”

  “When she goes you won’t last,” Micah said, “trust me.”

  “I believe you,” he said, and I felt his body shudder as he fought to keep stroking himself in and out of me, faster, harder, deeper, but never too deep, never too hard, as if he could feel that sweet spot inside me and knew he was stroking over and over and over it. Micah’s body danced behind me as his body grew hard and wet against me. Then the next stroke of Mephistopheles’ body filled me up and spilled me over so that I screamed and drove my body harder onto his, pushing my back harder against Micah. He kept my arms pinned to my body, and I fought and danced between them, my body bucking and writhing as the pleasure filled me, spilled me, and then Mephistopheles shoved himself into me one last time. I felt his body spasm above me and inside me. I felt his release, and it made me cry out again. I felt Micah’s body spasm behind me and spill out in a hot wash of pleasure. I cried out again, at the feel of them both going at once in me and on me, and finally ended in a limp, twitching puddle of happy between the two of them. Micah lay behind me against the bed. I could hear him breathing hard, feel his heartbeat against my body.

  Mephistopheles half collapsed, pulling himself out of me as he moved. That made me writhe more, and Micah cried out behind me as my body danced over him. Mephistopheles lay over my lower body and Micah’s. His breathing was heavier, more labored than Micah’s, but then he’d been working harder.

  Asher cried out, and I turned to see his body bowed in a line of desire and release. Nathaniel was pressed as deep to his body as he could get. Nathaniel reduced him to eye-fluttering writhing and only then did he rise up from the other man’s body. Nathaniel’s eyes were soft focused, lips parted, as if he’d orgasmed, too.

  “Devil,” Mephistopheles gasped.

  “What?” Micah asked.

  “Anita . . . asked what to call me . . . Family calls me Devil.”