Secret Energy (Shifters Book 2)

by Kat, Chris T.

  Peter tipped his head to the side before he said, “I don’t think I can follow your reference.”

  “Fairy tales? Where everyone is afraid of the big bad wolf? Ring any bells?”

  Peter lifted his head and frowned. “I don’t hear any bells ringing.”

  “What?”

  “Bells. You were talking about…. Oh. A figure of speech. I get it.” A smile appeared on Peter’s face.

  Robin rolled his eyes. “Great. That’s an improvement. Now that that is settled, how about you finally do the honorable thing and fuck me?”

  “Is that really what you want?”

  “Didn’t we already have this conversation? Like seconds ago?” Robin asked.

  “I’m sorry, I should clarify my statement. Do you wish me to fuck you, as you put it, or do you wish me to make love to you?”

  “Ah, yeah. Um, I think I’d rather take option two,” Robin said, wishing his legs would stop trembling.

  Peter smiled down at him, a line of white teeth flashing for a second before he clasped one hand around their cocks. He stroked their shafts, never using enough pressure to give Robin the friction he needed. Once in a while, Peter circled his thumb over their slits, smearing precome all over them.

  Robin laid his hand above Peter’s, trying to urge him to move faster, but Peter grinned at him with a devilish glint in his eyes. Though it was difficult, Robin kept eye contact, even as his thighs and belly muscles began to quiver.

  Peter knelt in between Robin’s legs and crawled closer to him until his knees pressed against Robin’s buttocks, reminding Robin this was real and not a dream.

  His breath hitched when Peter bent forward and said, “Watch.”

  Robin’s hips canted upward when Peter swirled his tongue around Robin’s cockhead. Robin relaxed when Peter laved his cock with his warm saliva but shivered when Peter blew upon it. The difference between hot and cold heightened his senses, leaving him gasping and waiting for more.

  Peter’s tongue worked his cock and his broad shoulder muscles flexed. Without forewarning Peter pushed one finger into Robin’s asshole. Robin cried out and canted his hips higher up, forcing Peter to take more of his cock.

  Peter moved around, grabbing a pillow and stuffing it underneath Robin’s ass. Robin clenched around the intruding finger while at the same time trying to get more friction on his cock. To his dismay, Peter let go of his dick.

  “Peter!”

  “Patience, my angel.”

  Robin groaned. “In case it has eluded you so far, I’m not exactly a patient man.”

  “I noticed,” Peter said with a wink before he licked and nibbled along Robin’s inner thigh.

  Robin gasped and squirmed, but Peter held him in place. “You’re… you’re…,” Robin stuttered, then tried again. “I’m not sure this is allowed.”

  “Why?” Peter asked after a sharp nip to the spot where thigh met crotch, eliciting a yelp from Robin.

  “Because you’re driving me crazy!”

  “With desire, I hope.”

  Robin laughed as Peter bent his knees to his chest and instructed him, “Hold onto your knees.”

  Robin slipped his hands under the hollows of his knees, swallowing when he pictured himself—ass in the air, completely open and vulnerable. A shiver ran through him from head to toe while he stared up into Peter’s eyes, watching them darken in response to Robin’s position. Or maybe he reacted to the sight of Robin all spread out for him.

  Peter trailed kisses along Robin’s calves, but his eyes—warm and shiny—stayed on Robin the whole time. Robin’s blood raced in his veins when Peter slid his hands over Robin’s ass cheeks, kneading the flesh.

  Peter’s mouth enveloped Robin’s cock while two fingers dipped into his hole. Peter’s pace remained slow, and whenever Robin caught a glance of Peter’s face, Peter’s eyes were closed and his skin flushed. He appeared as if he was savoring Robin’s taste. Thrilled by that belief, Robin relaxed his ass muscles more, allowing Peter deeper access. A sudden tap on his prostate jerked Robin’s hips upward.

  “Peter!”

  Peter looked at him then, his mouth stretched around Robin’s cock and his fingers leisurely moving in and out of Robin’s body, and Robin’s every muscle clenched. He was so close to coming.

  Robin groaned while his legs twitched whenever Peter tapped his prostate again. Peter left Robin teetering on the edge but decreased the pressure when Robin’s climax built up to the point where Robin could finally tip over into sweet ecstasy.

  “Peter, I need to come. Please, it’s too much.”

  And it was: too many emotions, too many sensations, his body feeling as if it was liquid fire, melting him from the inside.

  “Please, oh please, let me come,” Robin begged, close to tears.

  Peter added another finger to his ass and rubbed Robin’s prostate constantly. Heat rushed through Robin and a long-drawn-out moan tumbled over his lips as everything around him faded and he hurled over the edge. Robin screamed each time Peter tapped his prostate or dipped the tip of his tongue into his slit.

  The world around him finally came back into focus, sharper and more vivid than ever. Every time Peter’s beard brushed lightly against the sensitive skin on his inner thigh, Robin shuddered.

  Slowly Peter withdrew his fingers from Robin while he pulled off Robin’s waning erection. Grabbing and stretching Robin’s legs, he pulled the pillow out from under Robin’s ass before he massaged Robin’s legs with firm strokes of his large hands.

  Content and sated, Robin watched Peter’s chest heaving irregularly while he worked on Robin’s muscles. Licking his lips suggestively, he smiled when Peter gulped and faltered in his ministrations.

  “Peter,” Robin whispered.

  He reached out for Peter, who abandoned Robin’s limbs and instead crawled upward until his knees pressed into Robin’s armpits.

  Peter guided his hard cock toward Robin lips and asked, “May I?”

  Robin laughed about Peter’s question, batted his eyelashes, and made sure to smile his deep dimpled smile before he answered, “You may.”

  “I assume my phrasing was a bit odd?”

  “Less talking, more sucking,” Robin replied, opened his mouth wide, and closed his lips around Peter’s erection.

  Robin shut his eyes when Peter’s unique taste exploded on his tongue. Peter groaned and shifted, probably bracing himself against the headboard.

  Robin hummed around Peter’s cock, eliciting a harsh grunt from him. After grabbing Peter’s buttocks and digging his fingers deep into the steel-like muscles, Robin opened his eyes, wanting to see the expression on Peter’s face.

  Peter looked down at him from under heavy-lidded eyes. His lips parted, and his tongue snuck out from time to time to lick along his bottom lip. Robin breathed in sharply and continued squeezing Peter’s buttocks, resulting in Peter’s eyes sliding shut. Peter’s thick cock in his mouth expanded even further, the vein at the underside pulsing frantically. Peter was close, so close, and all because of him.

  Raising his head, he pushed Peter’s hips closer to his face. Robin relaxed his throat muscles to take Peter in as deep as he could before he buried his nose in his coarse pubic hair, inhaling the musky scent.

  Peter’s hips snapped back and forth, almost gagging Robin until he had the angle right again. It only took Peter a short time before his heavy cock swelled and the first jet of semen flooded Robin’s mouth. He held on to Peter’s ass, forcing Peter to stay deeply inside his mouth, eagerly swallowing all he had to give.

  Peter rocked in and out of his mouth for a long time. Robin held onto Peter’s hips and kept licking and suckling on Peter’s cock, relishing in the scent and taste of sex.

  “Impressive,” Peter whispered as he pulled his cock free from Robin’s mouth.

  Trailing a finger from Peter’s ass to his belly, Robin grinned up at him. “Yep, that I am.”

  “Impudent cub,” Peter muttered, his breathing still fast and irregular
.

  “Hey, I take objection to name-calling!”

  Peter climbed off Robin and settled on his side next to him. As he reached out to push a stray lock from Robin’s face, he said, “I apologize, my angel. Will you teach me how to phrase my words in a better way?”

  Robin’s grin widened, which brought forth a chuckle from Peter. “Only appropriate words, Robin.”

  “Of course. I’m the master of acceptable phrasings.”

  Peter tilted his head sideways, then shook it. After heaving a dramatic sigh, Peter said, “That might be so, but I foresee you making fun of me in the future.”

  “Would I ever do such a thing?” Robin asked, rounding his eyes in mock-innocence.

  “Yes, you would. You do look like an angel, but you’re not one. I love you just the way you are.”

  A knock at the door surprised Robin. He exchanged a look with Peter, then called out, “Yeah?”

  “If you’re done, how about you two come down for breakfast? Tim and Jay are already there, and we’d like to plan the day!” Ralf called back.

  Robin winced before throwing a glance to Peter. Robin’s voice was higher than usual when he answered, “We’ll be downstairs in a few minutes!”

  He listened to his father’s retreating footsteps, then scooted closer to Peter and wound his arms around him. “This is so embarrassing!”

  “You do look a little bit flustered.”

  “Can I hide behind you when we go downstairs?”

  Peter’s relaxed features changed into a concerned frown. “Is there something you’re afraid of?”

  “Is that a serious question? Ah! Wait, yes it is. I don’t think you remember how embarrassing it is for your parents to know you just had sex?”

  “My parents never knew when I was intimate.”

  Robin groaned and pushed his forehead against Peter’s chest, mumbling, “Sometimes it’s really hard talking to you.”

  “I’m not sure I can follow you.”

  “So you’ve said.”

  Peter sighed. “It happens quite frequently, I agree.”

  Robin chuckled at Peter’s heartfelt admission. “Aw, don’t you worry. I still love you.”

  A sudden crackling noise in the air alarmed Robin, and goose bumps rose all over his body. “What…?”

  “You said it.”

  “Said what?”

  “That you love me. Your declaration has our energy lines soaring, so much power lies in it,” Peter said, his voice filled with so much emotion it cracked at the end.

  “Oh.” Wide-eyed, he observed the dancing and flickering lines, a constant buzzing sound accompanying them.

  Peter’s gaze was unfocused as he stroked Robin’s back and ass, but an enraptured smile was on his face. Robin looked back and forth between their energy web and Peter’s face. Breakfast would have to wait just a little bit longer. He had to watch Peter, to imprint this awed look in his memories forever.

  Twenty-Nine

  WHEN THEY eventually made it downstairs, freshly showered and dressed, the adjoining pantry door was closed. Robin resented having to pass the room where Walter had been slaughtered.

  His stomach coiled in disgust and bile rose up in his throat, tasting sharp and acidic. Even though Walter hadn’t been killed in the kitchen, the close proximity to the pantry unnerved Robin. He swallowed hard as he reached for the doorknob.

  Before he opened it, his father’s voice floated through the open living room door across the hall. “You made it after all. We’re eating in the living room.”

  Robin blushed to the roots of his hair. He followed Peter into the living room, where he faced Ralf, who sat at the large table, a newspaper in one hand. Despite knowing it was a childish move, he stepped behind Peter and grabbed the waistband of Peter’s jeans. Ralf’s mouth twitched in amusement.

  “I believe your son feels uncomfortable after your remark,” Peter said, his eyes shining with mirth.

  “I assure you it wasn’t my intention to make Robin uncomfortable,” Ralf replied, straight-faced.

  Robin let go of Peter’s waistband and walked up to Ralf. After wrapping his arms around Ralf’s neck, he said, “You’re a terrible liar.”

  Robin received a crushing hug from Ralf before he was turned around and pushed onto a chair.

  “Let’s not talk about what I heard when I was upstairs, okay? You’re my youngest child and hearing those sounds coming from your bedroom….” Ralf trailed off, then gathered his thoughts again. “I’m not sure whether I want to kill your mate or grab you, drive you home, and keep you far away from any potential partners.”

  Peter’s chair scraped on the floor as he positioned his chair next to Robin’s. “I agree with keeping him away from other men, but I’d prefer if we could remain civil. I mean your child no harm.”

  “Sheesh, don’t use the word child so much. I’m nineteen. I’m an adult and have been sexually active since—” Robin broke off midsentence. After casting a worried look at Ralf, who was biting his lower lip, Robin said, “Dad! Come on! No embarrassing me in front of my mate! Also, it’s just plain gross to talk to you about sex. Eww!”

  Laughing, Ralf patted Robin’s shoulder and filled his and Peter’s mugs with coffee. “All right, truce?”

  Robin nodded while Peter squeezed his thigh once, then dug into his breakfast. In between bites Robin asked, “So where is everyone?”

  “Jay and Tim are feeding the horses. Two of Peter’s men are keeping an eye on them, and Tim and the other men are patrolling the area. We thought you and Jay would like to exercise the horses after you’ve eaten. The horses could use it.”

  Robin squirmed on his chair, wincing. Even though he knew the horses needed the exercise and he loved riding, his thighs were going to kill him tonight.

  Without much enthusiasm he replied, “Yeah, okay.” Lifting his eyes to watch Ralf’s reaction, he added, “How… how is Jay today?”

  “He hasn’t accused anyone of being a murderer so far.”

  “Great,” Robin said.

  His appetite waned during their conversation. He cut his sandwich into small pieces, pushed them to one side, and stacked them up neatly. He wasn’t sure he was up to dealing with Jay’s mood swings. He had barely started to process what was happening; how was he supposed to help Jay, especially if Jay chose to blame Peter for Walter’s death again?

  A warm hand came to a rest on Robin’s hand, stopping it. Robin gazed at Peter, who directed his warm dark brown eyes at him and said kindly, “Why don’t you eat? If you’re going to ride, you need your strength.”

  “I am eating,” Robin protested, mostly out of habit.

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “His mother always threatened to feed him oatmeal. Worked like a charm every time,” Ralf chimed in.

  Robin glowered at Ralf, or at least he tried to. Exasperated, he swiped at Ralf’s newspaper. “Mom hates when you hide behind the newspaper during breakfast.”

  Ralf lowered the paper, a crooked smile on his face. “But she’s not here, is she?”

  “I could tell her?”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Wanna bet?”

  “I’ll never tell Debra off again when she teases you about Mr. Bear if you do that,” Ralf replied.

  “Who is Mr. Bear?” Peter asked. “I have to admit I couldn’t follow your conversation at all. What does your newspaper reading have to do with Robin not eating?”

  Robin pressed a quick kiss into Peter’s beard, resulting in a cough from Ralf.

  “I told you, I am eating.”

  “We must interpret the word eat differently, then.”

  Ralf coughed again, this time longer, making it very clear he was hiding laughter behind the faked coughing fit.

  “That must be it,” Robin said.

  “I shall teach you the correct meaning,” Peter said.

  “Huh?”

  Peter slid his arms underneath Robin’s legs and around his wais
t, and lifted him onto his lap, where he already put a piece of bread in Robin’s mouth.

  Robin tried to fend off Peter’s next feeding attempt. He didn’t mind the feeding in general. On the contrary it made him feel cared for—which was really weird—but he didn’t want Ralf to be a witness.

  “Peter!” he yelped when all his struggling didn’t garner him the desired effect.

  “Yes, my angel?”

  “Oh God!” Robin moaned. Slinging his arms around Peter’s neck, he pressed his flaming face into Peter’s shirt.

  “I think this is my cue to leave you two alone. I’ll be on the porch,” Ralf said, his voice sounding strained from the effort to hold back his laughter.

  Robin listened to Ralf getting up and leaving the room. After the door clicked shut, he sighed. “This day’s gonna suck.”

  “I thought it started quite well,” Peter replied, a wistful note lingering in his voice.

  Smiling, Robin said, “Ah, yeah, you’ve got a point there.”

  “Then we should finish our breakfast.”

  “Okay,” Robin moved to get up from Peter’s lap, but two powerful arms locked around his waist.

  “I know you like me feeding you. Please stay here.”

  For a brief moment, Robin debated with himself if he should deny the pleasure he’d gotten out of such a simple treatment. Seeing the longing look on Peter’s face, he caved. “All right, by all means feed me.”

  The happy glint in Peter’s eyes made up for the slight discomfort Robin still felt by allowing another man to feed him. Soon, he relaxed and leaned back into Peter’s embrace, accepting the offered food with dignity. Peter was right: the day had started on a positive note. Maybe the rest of it wouldn’t suck either.

  AFTER BREAKFAST, Robin and Peter walked outside, avoiding the kitchen. Robin’s stomach clenched when he spotted Ralf sitting on the porch in the same chair Walter had sat in only a couple of days earlier. The sudden irrational fear of this being a premonition of the things to come had Robin grasping Peter’s hand.

  “Robin?” Ralf asked.

  “What?” he replied, hating how high his voice had risen.