“No,” Mace cried. The squeak of bed springs sounded through the room. “I have a restraining order against you. Get away!”
Jessup’s laughter was cruel. “No restraining order is gonna keep me away from you, Mace,” Jessup claimed. “You’re mine.”
Kort could no longer hold his tongue. “You leave Mace be, Jessup, you bastard,” he roared. “Get your hands off of him!”
“Who is that?” Jessup demanded. “Who’s out there? Tell me now, Mace.”
Mace cried out, then whimpered, “I-I don’t know.”
Kort would have been upset that his human didn’t recognize his voice, but they’d only had the one, short conversation.
“Who?” Jessup demanded again.
“M-Maybe my friend, K-Kort.”
“Who the hell is that?” Jessup asked. “What the hell is he doing outside your bedroom window?”
“I’m the guy who will give you to the count of three to get out of Mace’s house before I make you get out,” Kort declared. “One.”
Rage simmered through Kort’s system and he chanced a peek through the window. What he saw did not calm him in the least. Jessup knelt on the bed at Mace’s hip, who was sitting up. He had a hold of the upper section of Mace’s good arm. From the deep lines bracketing Mace’s lips and his furrowed brow, Kort knew Jessup’s hold on Mace hurt his mate.
“Two.”
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Jessup snarled, jerking Mace closer, causing him to cry out as he lost his balance and toppled half on top of the man. “Get the fuck out of here.”
“Three,” Kort bellowed.
Unmindful of the consequences, Kort leaped through the window. Glass shattered in every direction and he prayed it wouldn’t hit the man he hoped to soon make his lover. Kort landed in the bedroom, spread his wings, and focused his angry glare at Jessup.
“Release Mace, Jessup,” Kort demanded, a deep snarl rumbling through him. “Or face your death!”
Mace screamed. Jessup yelled.
Instead of releasing Mace, Jessup hauled him closer, as if to use him as a shield.
Kort growled low in warning, curling his lips and showing off his sharp canines.
It must have been enough, for Jessup shoved Mace away from him, sending him tumbling across the bed toward Kort. The man leaped from the bed and bolted out of the room. The sound of footsteps slapping on hardwood floor reached Kort, followed by the slam of the sliding glass door. Whether it was being opened or closed, Kort had no idea.
Mace’s whimpering caused Kort to once more focus on his mate. “Easy, Mace,” he rumbled. He didn’t like how pale the man was, or how glassy his eyes appeared. Mace looked to be almost in shock. Still, Kort had to try. “I told you Wren sent me to keep you safe.” He lifted his arms in a placating gesture. Pasting on what he hoped was a depreciative smile, he added, “This is why I can’t join you in your garden during the day.”
Kort didn’t think Mace’s brown eyes could get any larger in his face. His mouth was open as he just stared. His face appeared white as a sheet.
“Wh-Wh-What—” Mace didn’t seem able to finish the question.
Still, Kort knew what he was asking. “I am a gargoyle, Mace. I mean you no harm,” he assured. “I only want to see you safe.” After a heartbeat, he added, “And happy.”
“A gar-gar-gar—”
Mace seemed to have stopped listening after Kort’s first few words. His body gave a full body shudder. Then, his eyes rolled to the back of his head, his eyelids closed, and his torso flopped sideways as he crumpled on the bed.
Kort grimaced and approached the bed. He leaned over the mattress and, reaching out, carefully rested his clawed fingertips on his neck. As he searched for a pulse, he struggled to resist the urge to pet Mace’s beautiful neck.
Once Kort found a steady pulse pounding through Mace’s veins, he couldn’t resist. For a moment, he just stroked down his neck, only to lift his fingertips back to the base of his jaw and stroke his human again. He admired the fall of Mace’s shaggy hair across his face. With his other hand, he gripped one of those locks and rubbed it between his thumb and forefingers.
So silky soft.
Sighing, Kort touched Mace’s cheek one more time, then straightened and pulled out his phone. He punched in Einan’s number, then thought better of calling his enforcer. Not wanting to get told he couldn’t bring Mace to the estate and his home, he decided to shoot the enforcer a text. Hell, Kort wanted Mace to wake up in his bed so he had a chance to explain.
With that thought in mind, Kort punched in a message for Einan. Jessup attacked Mace. I intervened. Jessup fled. I’m bringing Mace home with me.
After pressing send, Kort returned his phone to his belt. He leaned over Mace again and slid his arms under him. Kort lifted his mate into his arms and cradled him close to his chest. He crossed to the window, leaped out through the shattered pane, and carried his mate away.
Chapter Five
Mace jolted forward. His pulse pounded in his veins and he gasped for breath. He finally understood the expression heart in your throat. If Mace could have screamed like a little girl, he totally would have.
Instead, his lungs seemed to freeze. He couldn’t see anything and he hated the dark. Hated it. Especially since he knew this wasn’t his bed.
Mace could feel the difference.
He’d spent more than he should have on his amazing, Sleep Number, king-sized mattress. The damn thing even regulated the temperature. This mattress... nope. Not his.
“The blindfold needs to stay in place until I can explain a few things,” a deep male voice rumbled from his left.
Blindfold? Mace immediately lifted up his left hand, intending to search for it. Instead he felt another’s rough, calloused fingers grip his own in a loose hold.
“Please,” the man said again. “Not yet.” He sounded as if he were pleading. “You are safe here. You’re not tied up or injured. I’d die before I allowed any harm to come to you.”
Mace couldn’t help but freeze at the odd wording. He didn’t want to admit that it could also be that his prick had begun to thicken upon hearing the deep rumbling voice. It just sounded so... nice.
Wait. I’ve experienced this reaction before.
Memories of his conversation with the stranger in the dark returned. Kort. Along with that, he remembered other things. Jessup breaking into his house. Fearing he’d be raped. The window breaking and a huge, winged beast towering over the bed and demanding that Jessup leave him alone. Jessup had obeyed, right? Then how had he gotten here?
Shuddering, Mace whispered, “I-I have these, uh, images, memories, in my head.” He squeezed the hand holding his own, holding on as if it were a lifeline. Resting his cast on his thigh, he tried to ignore the almost undeniable urge to rip off his blindfold. “Where am I?”
“You are in my chambers, Mace,” Kort told him, his voice sounding deep and soothing. “When Jessup broke into your home, I couldn’t just stand by.”
“Th-Thank you,” Mace responded. “I-I remember.” He squeezed his eyes shut behind the blindfold and bowed his head. “I remember... something.”
“Tell me what you remember,” Kort urged. A second hand landed on Mace’s, cradling his fingers between two larger hands. “No matter how odd or fantastic you think it is, then I’ll try to explain.”
Mace felt sweat break out on his forehead. How could someone explain the huge red... thing that he’d seen break through his window? Still, he wanted to know what the hell was going on. No matter how much he liked this man, or how wonderful his voice sounded and big hands felt around his own, he didn’t know him.
Maybe if he played along, he could gain access to a phone. He could call Wren and see if Kort was telling the truth... that they knew each other. While Mace hoped Kort wasn’t lying, he couldn’t remember Wren ever speaking of a man named Kort.
“Will you talk to me?”
Mace refocu
sed on the situation. “I-I am not sure what I saw,” he lied. Hell, how could he admit he’d seen a, well, a monster?
Kort sighed softly. “I know you’re not telling the truth, Mace,” he rumbled. “Is it because you don’t trust me? Or you don’t wish to admit what you saw? Would it make it easier if Wren was here?”
“I can call Wren?” Mace asked.
“I told you you’re not a prisoner,” Kort reminded gently. “If you would like Wren here, he is welcome. I understand he is your boss and a friend.”
What must have been the thumb of one of Kort’s hands began massaging Mace’s palm. The digit circled around and around his surprisingly sensitive flesh. Between the rough callouses and the slight scrape of the man’s nail—which must have been really long—tingles traveled up his arm and through his body. Somehow, they even reached his balls, causing his dick to thicken, despite the odd situation.
“Oh!” Mace gasped. “That’s, um, that feels really good.”
“Have you ever had a massage, Mace?” Kort asked gently. He pressed lightly on first one part of Mace’s palm, then on a different area a couple of inches away. “A massage can relax or it can stimulate. It can ease pain or cause it.”
Mace’s mind went blank for several seconds as a wave of hot pleasure swept through him. His nipples beaded and his cock thickened the rest of the way. If he could see, he just knew he’d see his thin sleep pants tenting.
Good thing there was a blanket covering his lap.
“N-No,” Mace admitted, his voice sounding breathy. “I’ve never had one.”
Kort hummed. “Maybe that would be a better route to help you relax, then,” he mused. “How about you roll over onto your stomach. I’ll take the blindfold off of you if you promise to keep your eyes closed,” he offered. “Would that make you feel better?”
All the while Kort spoke, he continued to massage Mace’s hand. By the time the other man finished talking, Mace’s dick throbbed with every beat of his heart. He actually felt his prick twitch, which he’d never felt it do before. Not even when watching porn.
“O-Okay.”
Maybe if he lay down on his stomach, it would hide his problem. Or he could rub off on the mattress below him and Kort would think his moaning was because of the massage. Yeah. That sounded like a fantastic idea.
Kort stopped the stimulation to Mace’s hand as he ordered, “Roll over onto your stomach, cutie.” He slid his hand up Mace’s arm to his shoulder and gripped it, gently urging him to do as he was told.
Mace rolled onto his stomach, carefully sliding his casted arm under his body until he could rest it off to his other side. With his good arm, he grabbed a pillow and tucked it under his chest. He draped his head over it and tried to relax as anticipation thrummed through him.
“I’m getting a bottle of lotion from my nightstand,” Kort stated as his hands slipped away from his body. “It will make it easier to work your skin and muscles without causing an uncomfortable burning heat.”
Nodding absently, Mace listened as a drawer opened. He heard items clacking and thudding as they were moved against each other. At last, the drawer was closed.
Next, the bed dipped beside him. He felt the blanket being slid off his back to midway down his butt. He tensed on instinct, but Kort rested a hand on his back and rubbed his spine soothingly.
With his other hand, Kort reached up and threaded his fingers through Mace’s hair. He scratched his scalp gently, which Mace thought felt better than it should. Weird. Then, he felt Kort gently ease the blindfold off his face.
“Keep your eyes closed, Mace,” Kort whispered into his ear. “Give me a chance to explain what you don’t think you saw this evening.”
Upon hearing Kort’s cryptic words, Mace wanted to open his eyes more than ever. He swallowed hard, and not just from the way the man’s warm breath felt on his neck. Not wanting the man to think he couldn’t be trusted, he nodded.
Mace wanted to trust Kort. He’d learned quickly that he couldn’t trust Jessup. As tense as he felt over being in a strange place with an unknown man, Mace still harbored hope that whatever this thing was with Kort... it would be different.
“Now, just relax,” Kort rumbled.
As the man’s deep voice flowed over him, Mace realized he could do little else. He heard a snick noise and guessed it was the lotion. After a few seconds of anticipation, he felt Kort’s hands on his upper back.
Mace shivered at the feel of the luke-warm lotion sliding across his skin. On second thought, maybe it was the kneading sensation caused by the big hands sliding over his muscles. He gasped when he felt the man’s thumbs dig into the knots near the base of his neck. When Kort rubbed them, helping to release the pressure, the sound turned into a moan.
“That’s it, Mace,” Kort rumbled. “Just relax and enjoy as I speak.”
As if I could do anything else.
Mace could barely string a few words together in his mind. Still, he managed a slight nod.
“I know what I say may sound fantastic or crazy, but I speak the truth,” Kort murmured softly, leaning close as he spoke. “You did see a red, winged creature in your bedroom this evening,” he declared. “I know you think it was a figment of your imagination brought on by your terror, but it wasn’t.”
Tensing under Kort’s fingertips, Mace’s thoughts reeled. “Then, what was it?”
“Do you remember speaking with the creature?” Kort asked. “Do you remember what it said?”
Mace racked his brain. The creature had spoken? Had it threatened him? Is that why he’d passed out from fear? No, that didn’t feel right. Yes, he’d passed out from fear, but not because of a threat.
Kort continued to work across his shoulders, kneading and pushing the muscles. Once again, Mace found himself relaxing. Thoughts—memories, he realized—passed through his relaxed mind.
The creature had looked like a demon, but had saved him from Jessup. It had scared the human away, threatening him with imminent death. As soon as the man had fled, he’d turned his attention to him. Mace had thought he’d been about to die. Now that he thought about the big male’s words, he’d actually been trying to reassure him. The red beast’s stance had become non-combative, and his features had... softened, maybe?
“You’re saying you saw it, too?” Mace hazarded softly. Maybe he wasn’t so crazy after all. “It, um... called itself a gargoyle, right?” he continued, piecing more of his memory together.
Kort sighed softly. “Yes, Mace.”
Working his thumbs down Mace’s spine, he used his fingers to knead the muscles of his back around them. It was damn bliss-inducing. Mace felt his cock ooze a drop of pre-cum when Kort’s fingers pushed beneath the elastic of his waistband and dipped between the swell of his cheeks to massage his tailbone.
“I am that gargoyle, Mace,” Kort whispered into Mace’s ear. “I would never hurt you. I only wish to bring you pleasure.” A puff of air wafted over Mace’s skin when he heard Kort sigh. “You smell so good when you’re turned on. I want to lick the sweat from your skin. I want to wrap my lips around the hard erection I know is between your legs. I’d drink down your seed if you’d let me.”
Kort’s soft breath tickled the sensitive hairs right behind Mace’s ear, making his breathing hitch. His heart thudded in his chest. His cock twitched where it was pinned beneath his body. Another bead of pre-cum oozed from his slit.
Mace tried to understand Kort’s words, to accept them. Gargoyles were real? Kort claimed he was the winged creature? Wait, that meant he was getting a massage from—
Freezing, Mace’s mind reeled. “Are you saying—” He couldn’t help it. Mace half rolled, levering up on his good elbow. He gaped. For an instant, he couldn’t seem to process what he was looking at.
Kneeling on the bed beside him was the large, red-bodied, white-winged creature from the night before. Gargoyle, his mind absently supplied, ever-so-helpfully. The beast’s hands gleamed faintly from
the hand lotion he’d been using as massaging oil. He had a big barrel chest, a lean waist, and more muscles than any man Mace had ever seen outside of a body builder.
And he’s definitely male.
Mace suddenly found his gaze riveted to the pole tenting the loincloth he wore.
Wow! Just how big is that thing?
Feeling his fingers actually twitch, Mace realized he wanted to touch. He wanted to take the gargoyle’s loincloth off and see just what he was packing. If he jacked that hidden rod, would the gargoyle enjoy it? Did they copulate like humans did?
Mace’s asshole clenched at his thoughts.
Finding himself more wigged out by the ideas running through his mind than upon seeing the creature beside him, Mace squeaked. He rolled back to his chest and scrambled to his knees. Finding his legs tangled in the comforter, he struggled. The movement caused his still hard erection to rub along the soft cotton of his sleep pants, tearing a moan from his chest.
“Easy, Mace,” Kort rumbled. He rested one hand on Mace’s waist and slid his right arm under his body. “Try to relax, sweet human. You are safe.”
Mace found his back pulled up against Kort’s chest. The male wrapped his arms around him, holding him in a loose embrace. The arm under his body palmed his pale chest, his thumb almost absently rubbing against his nipple. Kort’s other hand palmed his belly. His fingers gently kneaded his extra flesh as his pinky finger teased at the sensitive skin of his treasure trail, just under his waistband.
The oddest humming-rumble vibrated through him. He realized the source was the gargoyle behind him. For some reason, Mace found it oddly soothing, relaxing.
As his body seemed to heat from the inside out, Mace felt his balls tingle. He moaned and pressed into the male behind him. His body felt as if it weren’t his own. All he could think about was how his cock twitched with every other beat of his heart.
As Mace panted, he looked down his body. He saw the blood-red hand on his stomach. The way the tip of Kort’s pinky dipped into his sleep pants caused his heart to skip a beat. He could feel the man’s claw scraping rhythmically over the hair of his treasure trail.
Kort’s Treasure Page 4