He loved the feel of his mate’s hands and lips on him.
Tipping his head, offering more room, Conchlin commented, “Well, I just wondered why my mom didn’t call and tell me about dad’s, uh, Creasis’s visit.” His father’s demand to no longer be called such had certainly hurt.
“Why don’t you call her and find out?”
Conchlin nodded. It really was a good idea. Just as he reached down to pull his phone out of the little pouch attached to his loincloth, his stomach rumbled.
Baron chuckled as he nipped at Conchlin’s neck. “When was the last time you ate, my sweet?”
“Uhhh...” Conchlin’s body heated with arousal, making it difficult to concentrate. Still, he couldn’t dismiss his belly’s hunger pangs. “Yesterday. A few hours before roost.”
“Of course. I should have known.” Baron pressed a kiss to Conchlin’s temple again, then released him. “Is the food you brought reheatable?” Evidently, another thought struck him, for he immediately followed that up with, “Is there a microwave around here? Or do we have to go to the dining hall?”
Conchlin focused on the food he’d brought hours before—sausage and ham breakfast casserole, cinnamon toast, plus tea and coffee. “Yeah, we could microwave it. It should be fine, even after sitting out.” It wouldn’t taste quite as fantastic as it would have the first time around, but Conchlin had brought ketchup packets, too. “And there’s a microwave in Perseus’s office. I’ll go heat it up.”
“No, why don’t you stay here and relax. Call your mom.” Baron headed toward the sideboard. “I’ll get this warmed.” His lips twisted into a wry smile. “I got a funny feeling the doc will want to check me again.”
Nodding, Conchlin smiled back at his mate. “He’s very thorough, but better safe than sorry.”
Baron nodded back. “Agreed.” He picked up the tray and headed toward the door. “Be right back.”
After Baron had left, Conchlin settled near the head of the bed. He pulled out his phone but hesitated. What if his mother had finally written him off, too? He wouldn’t know until he found out. It would definitely be devastating, though.
Shaking his head at his internal debate, Conchlin dialed and held the phone to his ear. It only rang twice before his mother picked up, her voice as cheerful as ever. Somehow, hearing her friendly tones eased a tightness in Conchlin’s chest that he hadn’t even realized he’d had.
“Hi, Mom,” Conchlin greeted back. His voice sounded strained even to his own ears.
It immediately alerted his mother. “What is it, Conchlin?” Her tone took on a harder edge. “Did your father say something insensitive again? I know he’s never been the most supportive father, and ever since he became second, I swear, the things he—” She blew out a rough sigh before amending, “Now, you know I don’t like to speak ill of anyone, but there are times I wish the chieftain wouldn’t cast such a negative view on—” She stopped again. “Anyway, tell me what’s wrong.”
Conchlin bowed his head and grimaced. His heart felt as if it constricted in his chest. For a second, he couldn’t respond.
He didn’t want to cause marital strife between his parents.
“Come on, honey. Talk to me.”
Upon hearing his mother’s soothing encouragement, Conchlin slowly asked, “So, you did know father, Festian, and Kinsey were coming, right?”
“Of course,” his mother instantly responded. “When I told Creasis about finding your mate, he said he wanted to surprise you.”
“It was a surprise, all right,” Conchlin muttered, unable to keep the tinge of bitterness from his tone.
“Oh, dear. Please, Conchlin, tell me what happened.”
Unable to lie to his mother, Conchlin did. He shared how Chieftain Grecian had tried to take him back to his birth clutch, therefore keeping him from his mate. Conchlin told how when that had failed, Festian had challenged him in hopes of stealing his mate. The only good part of the conversation was how his fellow clutch-mates had rallied around them... well, and how Baron had stood beside him the whole time. That had definitely bolstered his spirit and kept him grounded.
Conchlin stopped talking, and he listened to his mother’s breathing on the other end of the phone.
Finally, her voice strained, she stated, “I’m so very sorry, Conchlin. I-I—” Her voice hitched, and she fell silent for a few seconds, perhaps pulling herself together. “I didn’t know. If I’d known—”
“It’s okay, Mom,” Conchlin hurried to say. He didn’t want her blaming herself. Something she’d said jumped out at him. “When did dad become the clutch second? Why didn’t you tell me? What happened to Gorgath?”
“Oh, um, your father challenged Gorgath for the position, and he won.” For a second, a hint of pride filled his mother’s voice. “Gorgath left after that. I don’t know where he went.” She cleared her throat before saying, “And I didn’t tell you because it only happened last month. He said he was going to call you and tell you himself.” Her sigh came through loud and clear through the connection. “I suppose he didn’t, huh?”
“No, I-I haven’t talked to dad in... uh—” Conchlin racked his mind for the answer to that. “A lot of years,” he finished lamely. Conchlin actually couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken to Creasis before that evening.
“Conchlin, I—” Again, she paused.
“It’s fine, Mom. Really,” Conchlin said again, trying to soothe her.
At least he had his answers. It seemed Creasis was keeping secrets. The bedroom door opened, catching Conchlin’s attention.
“Anyway, I appreciate you answering my questions. Baron just came in with food. Time for”—he checked the clock on the wall—”a late breakfast or early supper, depending on how you look at it.” He forced a bit of joviality into his tone, hoping it would help his mother.
“Okay, Son,” his mother replied. “You have fun with your mate now. And keep me posted, okay?” Then her voice took on an edge of steel. “I’m going to call your father.”
After saying their good-byes and I love yous, they both hung up.
Conchlin placed his phone on the nightstand before turning his attention to Baron. His mate placed the tray on the bed, his focus on Conchlin. Baron swept his gaze over him as if searching for something, maybe how he was doing.
Baron also remained standing beside the bed.
“Oh!” Conchlin jumped up, then began rearranging the pillows. “Here. Get comfortable.”
Baron smirked. “Why, thank you.” His eyes glittered, and his expression turned hungry... and not for food. “I think I will.” As he spoke, he gripped the waistband of his sweat-shorts and tugged at the drawstring.
Conchlin’s breathing hitched as he watched Baron ease his shorts over his groin, then allowed the fabric to fall to the floor. He took in the dark-skinned shifter’s half-hard prick, the appendage thickening as he watched, rising up from its thin nest of black curls. Conchlin felt his mouth water at the sight, and he was suddenly hungry for something other than food, too.
“Conchlin.” Baron said his name on a groan. “Gods, the way you look at me.”
“I can do more than look,” Conchlin vowed, real food once again forgotten. Lowering to his knees, he gripped his mate’s hips in a light hold. Conchlin leaned close and inhaled deeply. “Baron,” he moaned appreciatively, his mate’s musky scent lighting up his senses. He buried his nose in Baron’s groin, nuzzling and drinking in his mate’s heady aroma.
Baron’s hands rested on Conchlin’s shoulders, then slid up to cradle his neck. “Gods, you look good on your knees,” he muttered, his voice coming out rough with arousal. “Are you gonna suck me, my sweets? Can I fill your mouth and throat with my seed?”
Conchlin nodded without lifting his face away. His mate’s flavors dancing across the hundreds of receptors on his tongue tasted too damn good. He stuck out his tongue and lapped along Baron’s shaft, bathing the shifter’s thick erection with his saliv
a as he reveled in his mate’s flavor.
Feeling the twitching of Baron’s cock on his tongue, Conchlin enjoyed how his own shaft jerked in response. He began to slide his right hand around to cradle his lover’s ass but froze when he heard a hiss. Immediately he removed his hand and tipped his head back.
The pained expression on Baron’s face was fleeting, but Conchlin saw it. “I’m sorry,” he quickly whispered. “Are you, are you okay?”
Baron immediately nodded. “Just unexpected.” He rolled his eyes and snorted before again focusing on Conchlin and giving him a warm smile. “I wasn’t thinking about that either, my mate. Your tongue felt way too good.” Baron eased his left hand’s grip on Conchlin’s neck and skimmed the forefingers of that hand over Conchlin’s lips. “Was enjoying it very much.” His grin turned feral as he finished, “How about we go back to that?” He winked. “Just keep your hands toward the front of my hips.”
Conchlin nodded eagerly, pleased that he hadn’t killed the mood. “I can totally do that.”
As soon as Baron grinned at him, Conchlin went back to mouthing kisses over his lover’s prick. He mapped his mate’s cock with his tongue, relishing the musky taste of his flesh. His taste buds sang in his mouth, and his blood fired through his veins.
Keeping one hand on Baron’s hip for balance, Conchlin used his other to grip the base of Baron’s dick. He licked a stripe up the underside, tracing the swollen, blood-engorged vein. Reaching the head, he used his hold to tip Baron’s cock down a little, giving him easy access to his crown.
Conchlin swiped his tongue over Baron’s weeping head, scooping up beads of pre-cum. The lightly flavored pearls of tasty goodness yanked a moan from his chest. He immediately went back for more, loving his mate’s masculine flavor.
Never had Conchlin tasted anything so delicious, so wonderful. Wanting, needing more, needing everything, he opened his mouth wide and sank down on Baron’s prick. He swished his tongue over and around, lapping and caressing the swollen length in his mouth.
Moaning, Conchlin trembled. His brain shut down. Somewhere in the back of his mind he felt goose bumps rise on his arms, felt Baron’s fingertips massage the skin of his neck and head, and heard his lover’s groan... but all he could think about was the taste of his mate’s hard penis.
Conchlin bobbed on Baron’s cock, sliding up and down, tonguing his shaft and bathing him with saliva. He managed to get just about all of him inside his mouth and used his hand to work the last couple of inches. With each bob, he lodged Baron’s crown in his throat and swallowed around it, giving his mate as much pleasure as he could manage.
Baron’s deep groans and gruff rumbles told Conchlin how much his lover enjoyed what he did. His mate’s hands on him sent his own need soaring, his dick practically leaking like a sieve. Conchlin knew he’d have a massive wet spot on his loincloth, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Nor could he remove his hands from his mate to remove it. He loved the feel of Baron’s body too much, the thick girth of his cock and the smooth, dark skin covering his hip.
“Close,” Baron ground out, the words growled between clenched teeth. “Want to spill in your mouth, my sweets. May I?”
In answer to his mate’s question, Conchlin moved the hand on Baron’s prick to his hip and sank deep on his erection again. He hummed and sucked, then lodged Baron’s flared head in his throat. Swallowing around it, he massaged it with his throat muscles.
Baron’s body tensed beneath his hands. He roared as the first burst of seed coated the back of Conchlin’s throat. Conchlin eased off his mate’s prick a little as he quickly swallowed, and the next burst landed on his tongue.
Conchlin groaned in appreciation at the exquisite flavor of his mate. He didn’t have the time to savor it, however, as another burst flooded his mouth, forcing him to swallow or drool it out the corners of his lips. Conchlin swallowed.
To Conchlin’s pleasure, the next couple of bursts weren’t as forceful or as thick. It gave him a few seconds to roll the fluids over his tongue and relish the bitter cream. Whimpering his bliss, he trembled in Baron’s grip as he continued to suckle on his shifter’s dick, coaxing every last drop of goodness from his mate.
Finally, Baron groaned, the sound one of sated discomfort. He also pushed a smidge against Conchlin’s head. His meaning was clear.
Conchlin eased off of Baron’s prick, taking a few seconds to swallow, then he licked his mate clean. He kept his ministrations gentle, knowing how sensitive a cock could be after coming. When Baron’s dick didn’t soften much, pride surged through him.
“Conchlin.” Baron’s voice came out husky and rough.
Easing off Baron’s dick, Conchlin rocked back on his heels and peered up at his mate. He took in his shifter’s heavy-lidded gaze, and how his chest heaved with each panting breath he took. Although it could have been his imagination, he thought he even saw a flush on Baron’s dark-skinned cheeks.
“You’re gorgeous.” Conchlin couldn’t have stopped the words even if he’d thought about it before letting them slip. Licking his lips, he added, “And you taste amazing.”
Baron swept his gaze over Conchlin, a smug, satisfied look on his face. “You look fantastic sucking me off and feel even better.” Reaching down, he grabbed Conchlin’s upper arms and urged him to his feet. In one smooth move, Baron picked him up and tossed him onto the bed.
Conchlin only had the opportunity to bounce once before Baron was on him again. He clamped his left hand on Conchlin’s waist as he used the other to yank open the stays of his loincloth. Instead of opening it, however, he paused and gently stroked his fingertips along Conchlin’s length, still hidden by the soft fabric of his loincloth.
Gasping, Conchlin shifted his gaze to Baron’s face. He saw hunger still swam in the depths of his mate’s dark eyes. His heart tripped in his chest, and his cock flexed beneath his shifter’s touch.
Baron grinned. “Now it’s my turn to explore.”
As Baron spoke, he skimmed the fingers of his left hand up his side, caressing the sensitive flesh of his wingskins. Unable to help himself, Conchlin moaned and shuddered. He pressed into the exquisite touch, loving every second of it.
Chapter Eleven
With the pleasant zing of endorphins pulsing through his body, Baron took his time exploring Conchlin’s body. He admired his little gargoyle’s long, lean form. His torso seemed oddly long compared to the length of his legs, but considering the way the velvety skin on his sides fluttered, then began to stretch as something extended from his sides, that made sense.
“Are these your wings, then?” Baron asked curiously, enjoying the feel of the buttery smooth appendages appearing beneath his touch. He also appreciated the way him touching the skin caused Conchlin to wiggle and shift, pressing into his touch. “They’re very soft.”
Panting hard, Conchlin mumbled, “They’re called wingskins. Use them to fly and glide.”
Nodding, Baron focused on what appeared to be skin-covered bones extending from Conchlin’s back, stretching the skin. “And these?” He noted three on each side, lengthening and showing how the skin attached along the bottom of his little gargoyle’s arms.
“B-Bone-spurs.” Conchlin barely got the word out around his moans, sighs, and whimpers. “E-Extend from my ribcage along my back.”
“They’re beautiful,” Baron commented, admiring the vibrant orange wings. An image entered his mind, of his mate flying overhead while he ran through the forest in his stallion form. He smiled. “Gonna love romping with you. I’ll run, and you fly. How maneuverable are you in the air?”
Conchlin moaned, but he didn’t answer.
Baron focused on his gargoyle’s face and realized Conchlin’s wings must be extremely sensitive. His square jaw had sagged open, and his eyes were widely dilated. His lean chest rose and fell swiftly in harsh pants.
For all the world, Conchlin appeared to be completely blissed out.
Grinning, Baron switched hi
s focus to Conchlin’s groin. He saw a massive wet spot soaked into his loincloth. Flipping the fabric off Conchlin’s cock, he licked his lips as he took in the beautiful sight of his mate’s slender orange prick. With how Conchlin’s foreskin had retracted almost fully, a translucent pearl of pre-cum beaded in the indentation of his gargoyle’s piss-slit.
Baron bent at the waist, lowering his torso. Opening his mouth, he stuck out his tongue and lapped up that bit of fluid. A light salty flavor burst across his tongue.
Humming, Baron opened his mouth and swallowed down Conchlin’s erection, eager for more. His gargoyle didn’t disappoint him. More pre-cum flowed across Baron’s tongue, making his taste buds sing, and he quickly swallowed it down.
Between sucking him off and Baron playing with his wings—which had been sexy as fuck, watching his gargoyle mate writhe in such obvious pleasure—Baron’s sweet gargoyle must have been primed.
It only took a few sucks, then warm cum flowed across Baron’s tongue. He swallowed and sucked some more as he continued to pet Conchlin’s wings. The sound of his lover’s whimpers were music to his ears, and the way he trembled and shook as he unloaded his semen into Baron’s waiting mouth caused Baron’s own senses to sing.
His cock, which had never softened, jerked and oozed at his groin. His balls rolled, and tingles danced up and down his spine. He realized he was damn close to coming again.
As soon as Conchlin’s dick stopped pulsing, Baron couldn’t deny his need. He lifted his head and planted his left arm on the mattress beside his gargoyle’s hip. Grabbing his cock in his right hand, he began to jack himself.
With Conchlin’s saliva still cooling on his shaft, his hand glided easily over his skin. He trembled as his testicles almost immediately pulled tight. Not fighting the sensation, Baron moaned roughly.
“Yes. Do it.” Conchlin’s raspy encouragement broke through Baron’s haze of pleasure. “Mark me. Coat me with your seed. Love how it feels splattered on my skin, soaking into me, making me smell like you.”
Comforting his Restless Stallion Page 9