Unchaste

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Unchaste Page 5

by Watts, Mia


  Flynn put a finger in his mouth then dragged the moisture to Koda’s puckered hole. He circled it and smiled when Koda tossed his head. Koda moved his hips, pushing at Flynn’s finger. His natural desires and freedom to explore them, surprised Flynn, but he wasn’t about to point it out when he had a writhing warrior beneath him.

  The urge to grind crawled up Flynn’s spine and gripped the back of his scalp. Beneath him was cave floor. He hoped Koda accepted his cock as easily as he accepted a finger tickling his opening.

  Giving it a test, he pushed the end digit of his finger into Koda’s body. Koda grunted and his eyes popped open. Flynn knew he had to tread carefully, so he wiggled it around. He pulled off Koda’s balls and gently raked his teeth along the sensitive flesh of Koda’s inner thigh. Koda hissed and accepted the tiny invasion.

  “You must take him into you. The gods command it,” Amaro said thickly.

  Chapter Seven

  “Do you have grease?” Flynn asked hopefully.

  Amaro gave him a strange look, but extracted a small pot from the food pouch and handed it to him.

  Flynn nearly wept with joy that he’d actually be expected to enter Koda’s hot, tight well, instead of being slashed for trying it. No longer fearful of acting too forward, he applied some of the grease to his middle finger, and added it to the other already inside Koda. Koda reacted by grabbing Flynn’s hair and pulling. Not to move him onto Koda’s cock, but to make Flynn stop.

  Flynn looked up, keeping his two fingers lodged as he waited for Koda to accept him. “Relax your body,” he told him soothingly. “Push against my fingers, and breathe.”

  He caught the flash of panic in Koda’s eyes. He couldn’t show fear without seeming less than the warrior he was. It was ironic. By being the lover of a priest, their culture would remove a man’s warrior status. But by being called to test a priest when others weren’t available, he might retain his status. Still, the fact that Flynn caused him to feel pleasure and discomfort at the same time, and being required to lay still for the act, seemed to create that same conflict internally. Koda needed to show no fear in being taken by another man, to save face in front of his warrior brother. But in being taken by another man, he had to lie submissively.

  Strange paradox. Good thing Flynn didn’t have to understand the struggle to know that the man he wanted to bed, needed a little more adjustment time. Flynn moved up his body, keeping his fingers in place and stopping when he was able to nibble along Koda’s lateral oblique muscles that veed toward Koda’s groin. He slid his tongue along the groove and scraped his teeth lightly on Koda’s abdomen.

  The tight muscles clenching Flynn’s fingers relaxed, and Flynn slowly pumped them in and out of his body. Flynn grabbed Amaro’s wrist.

  At first Amaro resisted, but Flynn turned his head to look up at him. “Weren’t you called, too?” he asked the proud man.

  Amaro’s eyes narrowed, and his beautiful lips tightened, but he jerked his chin up in agreement.

  Flynn pulled his wrist, placing Amaro’s hand flat on Koda’s chest. “Touch him.”

  Amaro jerked his hand away. “He doesn’t require testing.”

  Flynn leisurely pumped his fingers into Koda. He added a third when Koda propped himself up again to watch the conversation. Flynn wanted to keep him prepared so he rubbed over the prostate. The sudden guttural cry from Koda served to catch Amaro’s attention and keep Koda pleasurably distracted.

  Need fogged Flynn’s mind, but the idea of seeing the proud Amaro touching Koda while Flynn fucked Koda in the ass, was too great a temptation to divide Flynn from his purpose. Flynn lowered his voice. “I’m going to put my cock as deep into Koda as I can. You want me to do that, right?”

  Amaro agreed.

  “Then put your hands on his body and play with those tight little brown buds. And, Amaro,” Flynn said, pausing to make sure he had the man’s attention. “If you like it, and like what you see, I wouldn’t stop you if you decided to mount my ass while I do it.”

  Amaro’s nostrils flared. It was the only sign that Flynn’s words had either surprised him, horrified him, or turned him on. Flynn hoped it was all three. The idea of getting under Amaro’s skin with lust, made Flynn so hard, he was ready to burst.

  “This would please you, priest?” Amaro asked darkly.

  Flynn chuckled, low and rough. “I’ve seen your warrior’s cock. It would please me greatly to be impaled by it.”

  Amaro lowered to his side. He touched Koda’s chest and pinched the nearest budded nipple. Koda’s shock was measurable, but his eyes glazed over and lust rode him high. Flynn pushed his fingers relentlessly across Koda’s prostate.

  Flynn pushed Koda’s foot to his ass, parting the muscular globes for viewing. He scooped up some more cooking grease and slathered it on his aching cock. Then poising the slicked head at Koda’s prepared opening, he pushed in.

  Koda flailed. His throat worked, and his brow knitted with pain.

  Amaro stopped what he was doing, tensed as though prepared to fight for Koda’s comfort.

  “Keep touching him, Amaro. Make him feel good,” Flynn directed. Then turning his attention to Koda, Flynn searched the man’s troubled gaze. “Tell me when you’re ready.”

  Koda appeared to be holding his breath. The squeeze he had on Flynn’s cock made him dizzy with need. His body trembled with the urgency to fuck with everything he had.

  “Breathe,” Flynn said on a groan. “Please breathe, baby. I don’t know how I can keep from moving for much longer.”

  The words finally sunk in. Koda blinked several times and began breathing again. He relaxed his ass and Flynn slowly retreated.

  Amaro continued to touch Koda, but Flynn also felt tentative touches on his ass. Amaro’s hand swept up Flynn’s back to his shoulder, then down his spine.

  “Yes, Amaro. I like that,” he encouraged. “Koda, do you like what he’s doing?”

  At Koda’s distracted head lift, Flynn growled, “No. Tell him in words.”

  Flynn flexed his hips a slammed home.

  Koda cried out. “I like it.”

  “Tell him what you like,” Flynn commanded. He ebbed out as slow as the first time. Koda looped a powerful leg around Flynn’s hips, urging him back inside. Flynn held off, delaying both their pleasure. “Tell him.”

  “I like your hand on me,” Koda mumbled.

  Flynn pushed deep inside him. “Do you like it when he pinches your nipples?”

  “Yes.”

  Amaro pinched and twisted the brown bud.

  “Take his cock in your hand,” Flynn told Koda.

  Koda quickly reached for it, pushing aside the leather cloth, and wrapped his hand around Amaro’s cock.

  “Good,” Flynn praised. “Fuck his dick with your hand, Koda. I want him hard.”

  Flynn thrust into Koda, taking the planted foot and raising the leg until it draped Flynn’s shoulder. It changed the entry, insuring that he’d strike Koda’s prostate on each thrust.

  “He’s already hard,” Koda said, his words becoming strangled as Flynn continued to fuck him.

  Amaro squeezed Flynn’s ass, rubbed it. His fingers delved into Flynn’s crease with improving enthusiasm. Flynn got to his knees, spreading his legs wide, to present himself for Amaro, as he elevated Koda’s hips for fucking.

  As he hoped, his swinging balls made for an undeniable temptation for the other man. Amaro held his hand beneath Flynn. Flynn felt it as his testicles swished over the open palm. He groaned, increasing the speed of his thrusts.

  “Koda, take yourself in your hand. I know you must need release soon,” Flynn told him. “Amaro, take my ass. Your delay displeases the gods.”

  It gave Amaro the apparent permission he needed. Flynn knew it was going to sting like hell, but he was so ready to shoot his load that the pain might help him hold off a little longer, until they were all ready to come.

  Amaro kneeled behind him. He felt the cool slide of grease on his ass, breathing a sigh of reli
ef that Amaro had copied Flynn’s actions with Koda. Leather loincloth and knife flew off to his right, near the fire. Flynn stopped to give him time to get in place. Koda complained and grabbed Flynn’s head, dragging him down, and inadvertently giving Amaro better access. It almost made Flynn laugh that two inexperienced men could have such raw talent for buggering.

  The laugh died before it had been given life. Soft, pliant lips moved against Flynn’s seconds before Amaro’s cock breeched Flynn’s ass. Flynn’s pained gasp was swallowed in a searing kiss, as Koda’s tongue gained entrance into his mouth, while Amaro’s thick, hard shaft pushed into Flynn’s ass against the spasming muscles. Filled at both ends, Flynn realized he was no longer the one in control of the orgy, but a slave to the two men sandwiching him.

  Heated body beneath and above, probed at both ends and subject to their whims, any remaining inhibitions Flynn had, left him. Amaro pushed the final inches in, grunting with his success. His fingers bit Flynn’s hips and the pressure of his added weight nudged Flynn that much deeper into Koda. All three were left gasping as sensation ruled sense.

  Flynn briefly thought of condoms then tossed the thought aside. Such a modern invention didn’t have a place here. He didn’t stop to question the wayward thought. God, what a rush! He didn’t think he could go back to one on one sex when he had these two men linked to him so perfectly.

  Like the idea of a condom, sex with anyone but Amaro and Koda slipped away. This felt too right. Too connected.

  Amaro began to move. Flynn, too, eased into rhythm. He pumped deep and strong into Koda, then Amaro pressed into Flynn. Amaro would begin his withdrawal. Flynn would begin his, when he felt the tug of Amaro’s flared cock head pull at Flynn’s muscled ring.

  Back and forth, slowly at first, then building momentum, they moved. At times, they lost rhythm to enthusiasm, bumping awkwardly, body to body. Amaro slipped out once, but quickly replaced himself.

  Koda’s lips called to Flynn again, and reaching between their two bodies, he pushed Koda’s hand away, and took the man’s cock in his fist.

  “Gods, Koda, you feel like magic,” he murmured against his lips.

  Amaro’s fingers clutched Flynn’s hips like a vise as his hips pumped more erratically. The forceful grinding, worked Flynn’s hips into Koda, and Flynn went with the momentum, following Amaro’s inexperienced, but talented lead. Flynn jerked Koda’s cock, swirling his thumb over the naked tip.

  Suddenly Koda clawed at Flynn’s shoulders, shouting his release as cum bathed Flynn’s chest. He fucked the man’s hole as hard as he could, eyes transfixed on Koda’s parted lips and heavily lidded eyes. Beads of sweat trailed down Flynn’s temples, and he no longer held back his orgasm as lightning sensation streaked up his cock. Flynn’s ass clenched hard with a final thrust, his hips jerking roughly against Koda’s ass. Fireworks exploded behind Flynn’s eyelids and release found him insensible as he fucked himself dry into Koda’s hot body.

  Behind him, Amaro bellowed as he rammed his hips against Flynn’s ass, over and over. The sensation prolonged Flynn’s pleasure until he shook with it, his cock twitching. Flynn lifted his hips, and Amaro joined them in ecstasy.

  It seemed to Flynn that his lovers where equally exhausted. He put one hand behind him, clutching Amaro’s naked ass. The other he cupped under Koda’s rear, and rolled them to the side, on top of Flynn’s sleeping furs. Despite the attempt, their cocks slid free.

  No one moved, and huddled between the warm bodies of the most amazing men he’d ever met, Flynn gave in to fatigue.

  Chapter Eight

  Amaro lay motionless until the deep sounds of sleep came from the other two men. Then carefully extricating himself from the tangle of limbs, he eased away and headed for the narrow river bed several feet below. He busied himself digging up soap root, making a paste, and washing his body.

  His hands shook as he cleaned the intimate parts of him that had never entered a man until that day. As a boy, he’d known. He’d prayed not to be called to stand before the priest. If he’d been chosen, the priest would have been his only mate. If he had not been, Amaro would have been ostracized. Hiding his nature had been the only choice. At the time.

  Fighting, stalking, protecting, and the freedom to roam the forests, hunt the streams, leave the prying eyes of people who might guess his secret had been necessary. Why expose himself to the scrutiny of the people, when his options were being outcast, or being bedded by a wrinkled man?

  Looking at his open palms, he saw beyond the slick opalescent smear of soap root and into recent memory. He’d never believed it could be like that with a man. He only knew that a woman’s body held no attraction, and the only way he’d bedded them in the past was to close his eyes, think of Koda and end the work quickly.

  Numbly, Amaro stepped into the swiftly moving current and splashed the icy water over his face and shoulders.

  He glanced over his shoulder at the nearly indiscernible entrance of the cave Koda had chosen. Seeing that the leaves barely stirred, Amaro returned to his cleaning. He bent and scooped up the water, sloshing it along the planes of his chest and abdomen. His sated cock tingled pleasantly with cool relief.

  How many times had he been with Koda on a hunt and admired the lean, toned lines of his hindquarters as he’d crouched, motionless? How many times had he looked into his brown eyes, paler than most and wondered what passion would look like stirring in the depths? Of wishing that the slight brushes of hands and arms, passing weapons or signaling strategy, would hold longer than necessary?

  Too many.

  Amaro finished rinsing. He climbed the stony wall to the cave, retrieved the hide containers and animal bladders then filled them with fresh stream water. Plucking another soap root as he passed, Amaro returned, taking a spot near the fire. He stoked it to life adding timber as he watched the men sleep.

  Flynn flung out an arm, pulling Koda close. Koda’s eyes opened, confusion warming to satisfaction as he seemed to recall the past few hours. He propped himself up and looked over at Amaro.

  They were warriors, Amaro reasoned. No one would fault them for doing their duty by the gods. They might wonder at their readiness to serve as male consorts, but there would be no shame in what they’d done. Preparing a priest was an honor.

  Flynn would be given a dozen or more young men or boys to choose from when he assumed his position of power. Amaro and Koda would fade into their old roles. It was expected.

  Koda slipped from Flynn’s hold. Like Amaro, he left the cave to clean and relieve himself. When he came back, Amaro and Koda would jointly wash the priest’s body then ready him for more.

  Once the branches separated Koda from him, Amaro breathed a little easier. He’d hidden his great affection for the other man too many years for it to come easily. It would serve no purpose to show it now, either. After the testing, they’d go to their respective tribes and continue on, blessed with the finest parcel of crops and guaranteed a portion of every large kill, payment from the brother tribes for the service they provided the priest.

  Amaro enjoyed looking at the pale man. His skin captured the light and seemed to glow. His hair, not giving off the ochre colors seen in the sunlight, looked dark brown and soft. It sifted like air through Amaro’s fingers. He’d never seen anything to compare it with. He touched his own hair, and the coarse strands felt too human. Not like the man-god asleep nearby.

  His eyes trailed over Flynn’s exposed back, the indent before the generous rise of his smooth, pale ass, then down the firm thighs of a warrior. Priests were soft, unhoned by work and the hunt. All priests given through the Portal of the Gods were similar. Flynn was not. He had the body of a warrior. The agreeable lines appealed to Amaro and begged to be examined by curious fingers.

  Flynn rolled toward the fire, giving Amaro yet another pleasing view. His gaze followed the turn from calf to shin, across boney knees and the swell of muscled thighs covered with golden brown hair. Finally, he allowed himself the privilege of admiring th
e sleeping snake nestled between his legs. It spilled limp and long toward the earth. Heavy, wrinkled balls, dark and dusky compared to the rest of him, hung beneath.

  Amaro had seen many cocks, but Flynn’s was different. Flynn’s looked…beautiful, if such a word could be assigned to a man’s root. He knew it to be satiny smooth over warmed stone, just as his own. Yet there was a difference. When aroused, Flynn’s cock head darkened to a ruddy earthen color. His shaft pinked when stroked. Like Flynn’s cheeks when he grew aroused or angered. No excess skin covered the tip of his cock. Amaro had heard of some warrior tribes that clipped the skin, but he’d never seen it.

  In the river, he’d pulled back his own skin, holding it and squinting as he imagined what it would be like to always have his tip revealed. He had decided such a thing would make him constantly eager for sex. An unbearable distraction for a warrior on the hunt.

  But Flynn’s cock fascinated him.

  As he watched, it filled and lifted. Amaro couldn’t tear his gaze from the waking serpent. His own cock readily responded, thickening as he watched Flynn’s root lift away from the ground. Amaro managed to drag his gaze upward, checking to see if Flynn slept. Bright green eyes looked back at him.

  Amaro gave a startled, unmanly sound.

  “Damn, the way you look at a man is a wet dream,” Flynn murmured. His eyes crinkled at the corners, something Amaro had learned to associate with humor from Flynn.

  Koda reentered the cave, clean and still glistening with moisture.

  “The two of you together,” Flynn shook his head, his expression one of awe.

  “We pleased you?” Koda asked.

  Flynn reached down and stroked the underside of his cock with an open palm. “You still please me.”

  Koda smiled. Amaro’s breath froze. He’d never gotten over the effect of Koda’s smile.

  Flynn’s gaze traveled between the two men, speculatively. Amaro quickly busied himself arranging the containers of water. He handed one to Koda, then prepared the soap root.

 

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