Coercing Quinn

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Coercing Quinn Page 6

by Charlie Richards


  Finally, finally, Quinn began to move. He lifted his hips, then lowered once more. With each move, Quinn’s body swallowed more of Taolma’s erection. His rippling heat massaged and squeezed him.

  Taolma moved his hands back to Quinn’s hips. He used the hold to lend support, rubbing over his hipbones soothingly. Quinn seemed to know exactly what he was doing, and from the expression on his face, enjoyed it, too.

  Once Quinn’s heat fully encased Taolma’s cock, his human lover settled his weight on his groin. Panting softly, he stared up at his mate. Seeing Quinn’s relaxed, blissful expression, Taolma reveled in the way the man seemed to be enjoying his dick up his ass.

  When after Quinn’s rectum did a slow squeeze and relax a couple of times, Taolma rubbed up and down his lover’s legs. “Hey,” he crooned, growing worried. “You okay? You in pain?”

  Quinn opened eyes full of pleasure and grinned down at him. “Only the best kind of pain,” he whispered. “Been a long damn time. Didn’t realize how much I missed this.”

  “You can have it any time,” Taolma assured, grunting when Quinn rotated his hips a little, causing his prick to jostle in his channel. “Aww, shit,” he hissed. “You gonna keep torturing me or move?”

  “I am moving,” Quinn teased, doing the move a second time. “Feels good. Hot. Never taken a bare dick. It’s different and you’re so damn long, Tao,” he mumbled, tipping his head back and gasping. “Feel you so deep.”

  Taolma’s stomach clenched in pleasure. Even the pain radiating through his side couldn’t detract from his enjoyment. Nothing could be better than knowing his mate loved having them joined together like that.

  Just when Taolma weighed the pros and cons of begging—he’d never had to do that before—and flipping them over—which could reopen his wound—Quinn started moving... really moving.

  Quinn rocked up, lifting halfway off his prick, then sank back down. Humming, he moved his hands behind him to Taolma’s thighs, arching his body. Digging his fingers into the meat of Taolma’s legs, he tipped his head back and sped up his movements.

  Taolma rubbed his thumbs over Quinn’s hip bones as his lover bounced on his prick. Never had he seen such a beautiful sight as his mate’s prick bobbing before him. The thick shaft slapped against his human’s stomach, drooling pre-cum which stretched in strings from his belly to his shaft head. The strands broke with each flop, then started all over when his prick hit his belly again.

  Loving the sight almost as much as the feel, Taolma wanted to taste, too. He released Quinn’s hip with his left hand and grabbed his mate’s shaft. For just an instant, his lover froze before moaning and resuming his self-pleasuring.

  Humming, Taolma jacked Quinn’s prick in time with his movements, urging a large bead of pre-cum to ooze from the wide slit. He swiped his thumb over the swollen glans, scooping up the fluid. Releasing his hold on Quinn’s cock, he stuck his finger in his mouth.

  Taolma rolled the tasty treat around his tongue, savoring the flavor. He groaned at the combination of squeeze on his cock, the taste on his tongue, and the spectacular view. His balls tightened pleasantly as tingles danced up and down his spine.

  Groaning softly, Taolma once again grabbed Quinn’s prick. He jacked his mate’s cock, urging him to rock into his grip with each pop up. “Come for me, mate,” he urged, seeing the tell-tale color flooding Quinn’s chest. Surely his mate was close.

  “Oh, yeah,” Quinn cried. “Squeeze my dick. That’s it. Play with my balls.”

  Listening to Quinn’s demands, Taolma obeyed. He cupped his mate’s balls with his other hand, struggling to focus through his own haze of impending orgasm. Grinding his teeth, he rolled the orbs in his hand. He fought his need to come as he urged his mate to do the same.

  Just as Taolma felt he couldn’t hold back any longer, Quinn slammed down onto his groin. He let out a hoarse cry as his balls drew up. The cock in Taolma’s hand thickened and swelled as his seed burst from him in thick pulses.

  Feeling Quinn’s warm seed splatter across his chest, Taolma lost control of his own body. His balls pulled up and his cock pulsed. His muscles contracted as he poured his seed into his human.

  For the first time in his life, Taolma felt an odd tingle in his teeth. An undeniable urge to bite filled him. Lifting his arms, he gripped Quinn’s shoulder with one hand and threaded his fingers through his hair with the other. He urged the man closer.

  Wrapping his jaws around the point of Quinn’s left shoulder, Taolma felt his canines extend. He sank them into his human’s flesh. As his mate’s blood oozed across his tongue, his lover tensed in his arms. Sucking lightly caused Quinn to relax, then moan, and more warm fluids flooded the space between their bodies.

  Taolma swallowed Quinn’s heady, life-giving fluid. The slightly sweet, iron flavor caused his taste buds to tingle. He’d never enjoyed anything so wonderful.

  Amazing!

  Easing his teeth from the claiming mark, Taolma peered at the bite mark. A sense of possessive satisfaction filled him. Seeing a bit more red liquid ooze from the wound, he quickly lapped at it, sealing it.

  Suddenly, Quinn yanked away from him. He glared down at Taolma, his face flushed. The scents of anger, arousal, sweat, and seed floated through the air. Confused, Taolma just gaped at Quinn as his lover pushed away, going so far as to slide off the bed.

  Standing beside the bed, naked and covered in a mix of lotion and their semen, his hair tousled from Taolma’s hands and his mark on his neck, Quinn couldn’t have looked more stunning if he’d tried.

  Except, Quinn appeared livid. He pointed at Taolma, his hand actually trembling as his mouth opened and closed. His other hand he brought to his shoulder, feeling the bite mark.

  “Hey, hey,” Taolma murmured, his afterglow disappearing in an instant. What the hell had just happened? When he pushed toward the side of the bed, wanting to go to Quinn and offer comfort, his mate backed away from him. “Easy,” Taolma whispered, concern flooding him. “What’s the matter? What’d I do wrong?”

  “Y-You bit me,” Quinn ground out accusingly. “How could you bite me? I thought you were a shifter, not a vampire. What the fuck?”

  Realizing his huge-ass mistake, Taolma stayed seated on the edge of the bed. He lifted his hands, racking his mind for some way to placate him. “I’m sorry,” Taolma whispered. “I didn’t mean to freak you out,” he added, realizing that was exactly how his mate appeared. “I’m not a vampire. I am a shifter. Biting is part of claiming. It’s meant to give pleasure, not pain.” Trying to lighten the moment, he pointed out, “And I know you came from it.”

  “I didn’t give you permission,” Quinn stated, his eyes widely dilated and sparking with anger and something else. “I didn’t agree to you biting me. I’d never agree to you biting me! That’s like a fucking vampire!”

  Fear.

  Taolma finally placed the scent. Swallowing slowly, he nodded once. “You’re right,” he agreed softly. “I didn’t ask permission.”

  Searching for some way to explain, he couldn’t seem to come up with much. He didn’t think telling the human that asking permission hadn’t even crossed his mind would be a good way to go. He’d just acted on instinct. On the other hand, telling the truth was the key in any relationship, right?

  “I am a shifter.” Taolma repeated the words softly. “And I am young, impulsive. I didn’t think,” he admitted. Resting his forearms on his thighs, he continued, “I should have told you that a shifter claims his mate by biting him during sex. Hell, how would you know, right? I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me to tell you.” Looking up at his lover, he tried to gauge how his words were being taken.

  “P-Prove it.”

  Taolma wasn’t certain what Quinn meant. “Prove what?”

  “That you’re not a vampire. What animal are you? Can you change whenever you want?” Quinn snapped out question after question. “Do you know who you are when you’re an animal? Do you act like an a
nimal or do you have some control?”

  Gaping, Taolma realized just how big a mistake he’d made. “You don’t know anything about shifters, do you?” he whispered. Then, he shook his head, remembering the startled surprise of the other hunter when the man had realized they were sentient as an animal. “Or what you’ve been told are all lies.”

  “Will you answer my questions?” Quinn crossed his arms over his chest. “Or just make me feel like a scarred idiot?” Again, he touched his neck and Taolma’s healed bite mark. “As if I need more scars.”

  Taolma winced upon hearing his mate’s grumbled words. “I don’t care about the scars,” he told him. “I’m sorry they happened to you.” Hoping to cheer Quinn, he told him, “Now that we’re mated, your healing will become better. Maybe they’ll heal better than you expect.”

  “Shit,” Quinn whispered, his glare accusatory. “This is what I get, thinking with my dick.”

  Cringing at his mate’s harsh words, Taolma told him, “I turn into a boa constrictor. If you want to see me shift, I’ll do it. I’ll do just about anything for you, Quinn. You’re my mate.” Seeing the way Quinn scowled at him just about tore Taolma’s heart out. So much for making progress. Rising to his feet, he pointed at the bed. “Please, have a seat. I’ll change, prove I’m not a vampire, then change back. You have nothing to fear from me. I’m fully aware of everything, from myself to friends, family, and enemies.”

  Warily watching him, Quinn settled on the chair by the bed. “Okay.” He waved his hand toward Taolma’s body. “Show me.”

  Taolma nodded once. Before he started his shift, he reminded his mate, “Just remember, you’re completely safe.”

  Judging from Quinn’s furrowed brows, Taolma wasn’t totally sure his mate believed him. Still, giving his mate anything included offering him some bit of trust. Calling to his snake, he began to change.

  Chapter Eight

  Quinn didn’t know what had come over him. Upon realizing Taolma had bitten him and drank his blood, he could admit he’d freaked... a lot. He’d barely managed to calm down, so why was he asking the man to change into an animal.

  A boa constrictor? Holy fucking shit!

  Then, the sound of bones cracking, muscles popping, and tendons snapping refocused Quinn’s attention. He grabbed the sides of the chair under his ass just to keep him in his seat. Taolma’s skin rippled and changed in the freakiest of ways.

  His head reshaped. His beautiful dark skin mottled a bit, then scales formed in dark hues of browns and greens. His arms seemed to sink into his body, while his legs melted together. After a surprisingly short span, a large snake lay coiled up on the floor.

  “H-Holy shit.” Quinn couldn’t help the squeak in his voice. Really, though, who would blame him? “Y-You’re fucking huge!”

  The snake lifted its head and flicked its forked tongue toward him.

  Quinn suddenly felt like this was the stupidest thing he’d ever done. Why the hell had he asked Taolma to prove he was a shifter? Couldn’t he have just believed him?

  No, no I couldn’t. He’s not human.

  Taking a slow deep breath, Quinn forced himself to stay still. “Are you still Taolma?” he whispered, not wanting to spook the creature. “Can you understand me?”

  To Quinn’s utter shock—as if he hadn’t had enough of them already—the snake actually bobbed its head as if nodding.

  A second later, the animal’s body began to change again. This time, there was a reversal of what had happened earlier. The scales receded to smooth dark skin, the head reformed to human, and limbs grew. After a few more seconds, a naked Taolma knelt on the floor.

  Taolma lifted his head, meeting his gaze. He offered a small, reassuring smile. With one knee tipped up and the other on the hardwood floor, he rested his ass on the bent leg.

  “Yeah, Quinn,” Taolma whispered. “I’m still Taolma, and I can understand you.”

  Quinn nodded numbly, feeling as if his whole world had been rocked. Was any of Roger and Bethany’s rhetoric true? It was looking less and less likely.

  “Are you ready to get cleaned up and eat?” Taolma asked softly, picking up the bandages that had fallen to the floor when he’d shifted. “I could go for a steak about now. Maybe some scrambled eggs and fried potatoes.”

  Quinn’s stomach growled loudly. Nodding slowly, he murmured, “Yeah, guess that’d be good.”

  “And I’ll answer your questions,” Taolma promised. “Anything you want.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Quinn responded, nodding. “I definitely have a lot of questions.” He slowly rose to his feet. Drying cum pulled at the hairs of his treasure trail, and he fought against a flush as he felt what he knew was Taolma’s seed dripping down his thighs. “I need a shower first.”

  Taolma nodded, rising to his feet. “Yeah, me, too,” he agreed. “Uh, I’ll use another room to clean up, then have Perseus check my side.” He glanced down at his stitched wound, the pink puckered flesh a harsh contrast to his dark brown skin. Taolma’s smile turned wry as he added, “I’m sure he’s gonna give me shit for not coming to him first thing, but... damn.” He winked. “You’re irresistible.”

  Before Quinn could come up with a response, Taolma grabbed his sweatpants off the floor and yanked them on. He watched in silence as the young man waved, then headed out of the room. He closed the door behind him.

  Quinn rubbed his hand through his hair and let out a slow breath. The thought that he needed a haircut went through his mind. His wife had never allowed him to let it get so shaggy.

  Shaking his head at himself, Quinn headed for the shower. It was a stupid thing to worry about. He didn’t have his wife to impress anymore. Her preference shouldn’t matter to him anymore.

  I wonder what Taolma likes? He’d certainly enjoyed gripping my hair so he could pull me close.

  Quinn ignored those thoughts, too. Instead, he took a piss, then a shower.

  Pulling on a clean pair of jeans he found in the dresser, Quinn grabbed a t-shirt next. After easing it over his head, careful of his bandages, he grabbed socks. He settled on the chair, then pulled his socks on and slipped his feet into the same sneakers he’d been brought there in. They were old and worn, but comfortable.

  Once ready, Quinn took a deep breath. He gathered his courage and opened the door. Praying he was ready to face a whole clan of gargoyles and shifters, he swept his gaze around what he knew was the waiting room.

  Quinn immediately spotted his guard seated to the left of the door. The male was smaller than many of the others he’d seen... and bright orange. He wore nothing but the traditional brown loincloth, which showed off the billowing skin that hung under his arms and seemed to attach to his sides. Lifting his gaze to the gargoyle’s face, he saw the creature’s pale, green-eyed gaze was pinned on him.

  The right side of the gargoyle’s mouth curved into an amused smirk. “Hello, Quinn,” he greeted. “I’m Conchlin. I hear you have permission to be escorted to the dining hall, if you’re up for an adventure.”

  “Uh, not really,” Quinn admitted softly, glancing around uneasily. “But I guess I should.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Conchlin responded, his tone teasing. “We’re not all big scary fuckers,” he assured him, rising from his chair and holding out his arms.

  Quinn realized what the gargoyle said was true. The creature was actually shorter than his own five foot ten stature by a couple of inches. More slender, too, even with the odd billowy skin that he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away from.

  “What are—” Quinn snapped his jaw shut, embarrassed. Was it okay to point and ask questions?

  “Wingskins,” Conchlin stated, obviously realizing what Quinn was wondering about. He held out his arms and the flaps of skin seemed to stretch and billow around him. “Instead of wings on my back like the larger gargoyles, us smaller guys have bone-spurs that extend from our ribs,” he explained, not at all shy as he turned and showed off what he talked about
—leathery-skin-covered bones that seemed almost flexible as they extended away from his body. “We use them to fly, just like the big guys use wings.”

  “Wow,” Quinn muttered, impressed despite himself. “Those are... amazing.” So interesting, in fact, that he actually found himself wanting to touch. “Would it offend you if I, uh—” He pointed at the wings.

  Conchlin grinned, showing off sharp canines on both his upper and lower jaws. “Sure,” he replied, turning and holding out his arm. “Just below my arm. Run your fingers over it lightly.”

  Quinn did as instructed. He gently ran the fingertips of his right hand down the friendly male’s appendage. Finding it interestingly smooth, like the finest leather, Quinn was fascinated. He couldn’t help running his fingertips along the gargoyle’s wingskin a second time.

  When Conchlin shivered, Quinn pulled his hand away.

  Conchlin shrugged, offering a sheepish smile. “They’re sensitive.”

  A low growl sounded behind Quinn, causing him to spin in alarm. He saw Taolma standing there, his arms crossed over his chest. A scowl drew his brows down as he glared at Conchlin.

  “Making a move on my mate, Conchlin?” Taolma demanded.

  Quinn’s jaw sagged open upon hearing what could only be jealousy in his young lover’s tone. He glanced between the shifter and gargoyle, wondering what the hell was going on. Why would he think that?

  Shaking his head, Conchlin grinned up at Taolma. “Of course not, hot stuff,” the gargoyle responded. “Quinn was just curious about my wingskins.” He shrugged as he stated, “Not like he’s gonna know touching a gargoyle’s wings is kinda intimate. I figured with all the shit he’s been taught, a little curiosity should be rewarded.”

  “Wait, what?” Quinn blurted the question, then frowned. They were fighting about him touching the gargoyle’s wing? “Wait a minute. Touching a gargoyle wing is intimate?” He felt his face flame. “Shit, I’m sorry.” He wrapped his arms around his body, tucking his hands under his pits as he hunched his shoulders. “Damn. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

 

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