by Willa Okati
No, more than tempting. Offering. Martin’d laid himself out on a silver plate, all ready for Harrison to take the bait.
Harrison wanted to give in, let go, and run wild.
Drugs. It must be more drugs, or maybe something subliminal. Harrison shook his head in an effort to clear his mind. “Martin, take your hands off me,” he said as firmly as he could. “I’m warning you. Stop.”
“Why would I do that when we’re just getting started?” Martin blithely ignored Harrison’s irritation and rubbed his fingertips in small circles over the delicate skin of Harrison’s temples. “Hmm, not the stuff of little boys, after all. Lube and spunk and sweaty man-junk, that’s what big gay dudes are made of.”
Harrison was disgusted. “Must you be so crude?”
“I really must. Now hold still.”
“Why?” Harrison asked, suspicious.
“Because I’m going to kiss you. I don’t want to miss and end up with my tongue in your left nostril.”
“You’re going to wha-- mmph!” Martin had tilted their heads at exactly the right angle and laid his lips over Harrison’s. After the first moment’s shock, Harrison tried to break away, but Martin had him pinned good and tight. He could no more move the Magician than he might have been able to shift the statue of Bastet.
He fumed as Martin’s mouth pressed against his own. Fumed.
For a moment.
Then, because he was gay, damn it, and God help him, horny as hell, Harrison moaned with pleasure and a little bit of despair as his body took over once and for all and outvoted his mind.
Damn traitorous body. Pheromones... hormones... His mind seemed oddly adrift, as if he were losing his grip on reality the way he knew it... was slipping into some odd, semi-hypnotic state.
What was I thinking about just now? Don’t recall. Odd. Why am I thinking when I could be enjoying this kiss?
Mmm. Wonderful kiss! Martin definitely knew what he was doing, pushing Harrison’s head back for better access, plundering Harrison’s mouth with a thrusting tongue, and nibbling at Harrison’s lips. He took control like a man born to lead, overriding anything Harrison tried to introduce.
Harrison groaned as Martin nimbly climbed into his lap, one knee on either side of his hips, pressing their bodies chest-to-chest. Starting at the neck he’d admired earlier, Martin ran his hands down Harrison’s shoulders, across the top of his chest, and down both arms. The Magician made small, deeply happy noises as he explored, apparently deciding he liked what he found.
The kiss could have gone on forever, but ended all too soon. Too soon? Harrison managed to puzzle through the haze of his thoughts. But I hadn’t wanted him to kiss me at all... had I? I can’t remember.
Martin’s expression had dropped every nuance but raw sensuality. Harrison gazed back at the other man with lazy but enthusiastic anticipation, feeling both stoned and buzzed, wanting to giggle.
“Now that’s a little more like it.” Martin traced a finger down Harrison’s cheek. “Lust becomes you.”
Harrison reached up to grasp Martin’s hand. He couldn’t quite find the right words, but for once in his life didn’t feel as if he needed any. Although, after a moment, he decided to offer up a drunken smile.
“That’s my good boy.”
Good boy. The words resonated in Harrison’s mind. They felt like a benediction. A blessing. God, it was so easy and so fabulous to just give in. Why had he fought so hard against this?
“Yes,” he got it together enough to reply.
Martin brushed a second light kiss across his lips. “Now, this is so you won’t throw a temper fit later and hurl a drippy candle at my head. I want you to know I haven’t given you any drugs, and I haven’t hypnotized you. All I did was loosen up those choking inhibitions to let the real you out to play. That’s all.” He growled playfully, taking Harrison by the collar. “And you do want to play, don’t you? Deep down, you’ve wanted to play for a long time now.”
Harrison tested his free will. He could have said “no,” and knew normally he would have -- submitting so easily was too unlike him -- but he didn’t want to deny the strange, fascinating power and beauty of whatever was happening.
He wanted to have fun for a change.
“Yes,” he breathed.
“Good, good boy.” Martin rewarded him with a kiss. “‘Come now; what masques, what dances shall we have, to wear away this long age...? What revels are in hand?’”
“Shakespeare again? Must be contagious.”
Martin laughed, a rippling peal of mirth. “The Bard had his own particular magic. Why do you think they call him immortal? We have the words, the moonlight, the magery, and me. And you.” He bent down to trace his tongue beneath each of Harrison’s eyes. Ooh, kinky. “I talk too much. Let’s not waste any more time, hmm?”
“No,” Harrison breathed. This felt wonderful. “What do I do?”
“Just let go.”
“Let go.”
“Just feel.”
“Feel.”
“Lust.”
“Lust...”
“Yes,” Martin whispered. Harrison wouldn’t have looked away from the man if he could -- and he could have, he knew. He simply didn’t want to. Martin was all that mattered at the moment. “Let me taste you as much as I want.”
Harrison opened his mouth for another kiss, but Martin chuckled and tapped his chin.
“Not the kind of taste I was talking about, but don’t worry, we’ll get to that soon enough. No. I want to test the flavor of your scent. There are whiffs of this and that which intrigue me.”
“Smell? I smell?”
“Only like good things. Such a non-believer, Harrison. Makes it doubly interesting to find you’re drenched in magics. You never had a clue, did you? Or have you? We’ll see. Hold still.”
Magics? But... magic isn’t real... Harrison thought hazily, then forgot to think entirely when Martin pressed his nose to the nape of Harrison’s neck and inhaled, moving up in a long, smooth line. He didn’t snuff like a dog, the way Harrison had half expected, taking instead a single deep breath.
“Oh. Oh, now.” Martin bit Harrison’s earlobe. Harrison shuddered delicately. Into the shell above, the Magician whispered, “The Night Mare likes you, doesn’t she?”
“Night Mare? Night-mare? Nightmares? Dreams. I have dreams...”
“I’m sure you do, poor thing. Fortunately, I smell something much tastier and with greater power. You’re double-blessed. The smell of the incubus is rich on your skin, but you’ve known him for a while, so that’s to be expected. The extra spice, though, it’s truly delicious. Dangerous, but exciting. Lilith’s put Her own mark on you. Sex piled on top of sex. Who knows why she chose you, but all the better for me. And you.”
“Lilith?” Harrison mumbled, vaguely baffled. “She’s a myth.”
“Whatever you say. I know what I know, and you will, too, soon. Right now, I think I’m tired of waiting.” Martin rubbed against Harrison’s chest. “How about we get rid of some of these clothes, lovely?”
Harrison sagged in relief, minus the single part of him that stood up straight and saluted the idea. “Yes,” he agreed, although he wasn’t sure how they’d get naked, seated as they were.
But I don’t jump into bed with strangers. He giggled drunkenly. For him, I’ll make an exception. Why not?
“Shh, shh, no more thinking.” Martin kissed Harrison’s forehead. A sense of peace radiated from the touch of the man’s lips. “There, that’s better. Now come with me.”
Nimble as a cat, the Magician slipped off Harrison’s lap and took him by the hand. “Follow my lead.”
Harrison stood. “Anywhere.” He paused. “Where, exactly?”
“The rug will do.”
“Hard floor.”
“You’ll be pleasantly surprised.”
“Okay,” Harrison agreed, happy to take Martin at his word. He followed the Magician onto his Hindi rug, and was both startled at how deeply soft and plush it was
, yet not at all ruffled at the same time. Déjà vu, déjà vu. “Mmm. Nice.”
“A favorite of mine. Now.” Martin pushed and tugged at Harrison until they lay positioned exactly so. “I’ve got plans for you, pet, but I think we’ll go slowly. This first time can just be ordinary.” He grinned wickedly. “I actually expect it’ll be extraordinary, but you know what I mean.”
Harrison found the strength to roll his eyes. “Martin?”
“Yes, pet?”
“You really do talk too much. Kiss me?”
Martin purred. He held his finger across his lips and then touched the same finger to Harrison’s lips.
Harrison lost all desire to speak and didn’t care a bit.
Martin tapped Harrison’s shoulder to indicate where he’d start, then began undoing Harrison’s shirt buttons with neat, nimble movements. For every new bit of skin bared, Martin kissed the spot, licking and then sucking with gusto. Hickeys in the making. But who cared? Not Harrison.
He reached for Martin to return the favor, but Martin shook his head, looking both mischievous and wise. Harrison didn’t bother to complain because Martin had risen and decided to move on to Harrison’s pants. They were simple to open, just a button and a zipper. The freedom Harrison felt when Martin pulled the material down almost made him whimper.
Almost. His underwear was still in the way of total bliss. Martin snickered, presumably at the sight of Harrison’s neat white Y-fronts. Harrison favored him with a dozy glare, but that didn’t stop Martin from snapping the waistband with a cackle.
He forgave Martin when the Magician stopped playing around and tugged the BVDs down around Harrison’s knees. Harrison couldn’t help groaning as his erection was finally released from its prison. Pure relief, along with hope-laced anticipation.
Martin traced his finger down the length of Harrison’s cock, picking out a pattern in the ropy veins, cupped Harrison’s balls long enough for a measuring squeeze. Then, he dipped into the clear liquid that was building on the head of Harrison’s dick. He pushed that finger into his mouth and smiled in blissful satisfaction.
Please, please, please, Harrison thought. Suck me. Please? He’d die if Martin didn’t do something besides toy with him, and soon.
Martin seemed to know what Harrison was thinking. Or he’s a good guesser, the tiny rational corner of Harrison’s mind suggested. Harrison told that fragment of functional brain to shut its yap and waited, quivering, to see what the Magician would do next. Suck? Let Harrison undress him in turn? Hand job? He’d take just about anything, so long as Martin did something.
Bi-colored eyes twinkling, Martin lifted his hand to cover the top half of Harrison’s face. “I’m breaking the rules by talking, but hey, presto,” he whispered after a pause, before he moved back.
Martin had somehow shed his own clothes without any sound and was totally naked.
Harrison gaped, first in shock and then in awe. Golden and smooth as a god, just the way Liam had idly described Martin back when Harrison didn’t know who Martin was. Leanly muscled from corded arms to long, firm legs. Almost no body hair. In the middle, the piéce de résistance: the Magician’s cock. A nice big mouthful or handful -- depending on preference -- dark with arousal and jutting out in silent command.
Without stopping to question himself, Harrison moved to his knees. He was momentarily confused again by how right it felt to be there and glanced up in silent question.
Martin made hushing, soothing noises in response and began petting Harrison’s head, settling him back down. When Harrison was calm again, Martin used his other hand to urge Harrison closer to his groin, making it pretty damn clear what he wanted.
With pleasure.
Harrison was out of practice, so his approach turned out to be a little clumsy, but he managed to take the head of his lover’s cock in his mouth and suck with eager determination. He tasted the saltiness of the Magician’s pre-come, rolled the slick fluid on his tongue.
Martin hissed and tightened his fingers in Harrison’s hair. Encouraged, Harrison tried taking in a little more cock, and when he didn’t choke, still more.
“I’m breaking the rules again,” Martin gasped. “My game, though. I call the shots, and I’ll call them out loud if I want to. Get me wet, Harrison. Get me good and wet.”
Thank you; it’s damned hard not to slobber when you’re not used to this. Harrison let himself go wild, slathering Martin’s cock with saliva and, not coincidentally, savoring the rich, musky flavor of the man’s tissue-soft skin over its hard core.
Experimenting, Harrison reached for Martin’s balls and let the heavy, pendulous sac that encased them rest in his palm. God, he’d forgotten how good it felt to cup another man’s jewels. You had to handle them exactly right, not too roughly and not too gently. After a moment’s consideration and some careful exploration, he figured out the way to play and began rolling the nuts together, fascinated by his new trick.
Martin swore under his breath and pushed at Harrison. “Enough. Enough. Stop. Move back.”
Harrison automatically obeyed, but when he’d had his last taste and Martin’s wet cock was free, he looked up woefully. They weren’t finished already, were they?
“No, not done yet.” Martin stroked Harrison’s hair as if he were patting a dog. His expression, which Harrison had grown accustomed to seeing as genial and playful and cheerful, hardened abruptly. The Magician glittered with a sudden air of dominance and determination. “Stand up. Turn around. Walk toward the wall and put your hands on the stones. Spread your legs wide. Do it.”
Harrison found himself complying. Deep inside, the little piece of rationality, which would not be quiet, protested that he, Harrison, did not ask “how high?” when someone said “jump.” He was a top. Firmly established as a top in all relationships. So why was it so easy and felt so good to let himself assume the role of the bottom?
Peculiar. Amazing. Wonderful.
Harrison reached the wall and did as he’d been instructed. The cold of the stones felt delicious against his over-warm skin. Heedless of any past experience or good sense or, indeed, any kind of sense, he stood with his thighs parted wide and his feet firmly planted on the hard floor.
He was barefoot. When had that happened?
“I like bare feet,” Martin said softly, just behind Harrison. Harrison flinched, once again not having heard the other man move. “You’re doing so well. Your body obeys as sweetly as I’d hoped with just a few walls torn down. You want this, you know it, and you’re all but begging for it. Perfect. I want it, too. But I won’t hurt you. Here.”
Two of Martin’s long, elegant fingers slipped between the crease of Harrison’s ass and stroked around the tight, truly virgin pucker of his hole.
Fuck! Harrison had been fingered before but hadn’t really enjoyed it. Martin’s teasing touch made him want to buck and holler, made him ache to come just from being toyed with.
“I’ll be the first man ever inside you,” Martin said approvingly. “Better be doubly sure you’re taken care of, then. Don’t worry. You won’t come until I tell you to. Enjoy.” Suddenly sopping wet, those fingers ran circles around Harrison’s hole until the entrance was slick as oil, then pushed inside.
Harrison inhaled sharply. He had, in the back of his mind, been expecting pain -- but, no, he didn’t even feel a twinge. There was only pleasure instead, pleasure building into amazing bliss and a burning need to empty his balls.
But not yet. Martin had said not yet.
“Yes, yes, good boy, good pet.” Martin withdrew his fingers and then parted Harrison’s ass cheeks with slippery hands. “You’ll enjoy this if you let yourself. And you will, won’t you?”
“Yes, Master.” The words popped out without any thought. Harrison felt mildly shocked but didn’t have time to puzzle over what he’d said.
Martin bit down on his shoulder, just hard enough to hurt but not hard enough to break the skin, and pushed his cock slowly forward inside Harrison’s channel.
Both of them breathed out in a long, heavy sigh.
“You amaze me,” Martin murmured.
“I amaze myself.”
Martin chuckled. “Probably do. Now, take me, Harrison. Take every inch of me, and love it.”
And Harrison did. He couldn’t stop himself from wondering about the lack of any pain, but as Martin thrust in and out, gradually picking up the pace, Harrison felt nothing but full and ohgodohgodsogood. He heard himself utter desperate whimpers whenever his lover withdrew, pushing his ass back for more.
Martin gave that ass a hard slap, which, instead of infuriating Harrison, made him wail with a shock of lust. God! He had never been so close to coming for so long. Hanging on to the edge like this astonished him with how thrilling it could be, but every time Martin pulled a move like that, he lurched a little closer to the peak.
Harrison heard a voice babbling, pleading for release, and realized it was his own. He didn’t feel embarrassed. The need to come was too great to worry about making a fool out of himself. “Please, please, please, please, please...”
Martin worried Harrison’s neck playfully with his teeth. He reached around to grasp Harrison’s cock and gave it a tormenting, light stroke. “Now.”
Harrison bellowed as he shot, striping the wall with his spunk. Martin crooned words of encouragement and incomprehensible mumblings as he thrust again and then let out a deep moan as he filled Harrison’s ass with liquid heat.
The road to normalcy was delayed and full of stumbling blocks, but Harrison finally found his way to an even keel. He was sweating, great fat drops rolling down his face and chest, heaving for air, and shaking in every muscle.
Harrison’s legs trembled as his rational mind raced back to him. What the... what the hell did I just do? Why? How did I let this happen?
“I know,” Martin said, not letting him go. “You’re going to want to talk now, and there’ll be all sorts of yelling. Fine, I can cope. Just let me pull out of your ass first.” Martin gave said ass another hard spank, then faced him as Harrison turned around.
“You hypnotized me,” Harrison accused, grasping at straws. There had to be a reason why he’d given in so readily. Some explanation for why he’d been putty in Martin’s hands. Why he’d felt blissfully drunk on a handful or three of words.