He nuzzled, nipped and licked, teasing the beautiful, rounded head of Rex's cock. One hand settled at the root of his shaft, with the other he fondled, tracing the line that divided his balls, following it down till it met his anus.
He wet his finger and teased, circling the starburst entrance and then dipping in, only to retreat. Rex reclined, eyes heavy, content to let Hunter take the lead as they made love. He arched his back and groaned as the angel's finger stroked deep inside his ass, finding his sweet spot and holding for blissfully agonizing seconds.
Rex reached down and stroked Hunter's face, held his hair back and watched with open fascination as slick, clear pre-come dripped from the slit in his cockhead.
"Lovely as this is...” Rex groaned as Hunter laved the entire length of his shaft. “For God's sake Hunter ... Fuck me or I'm going now ... I swear!"
Hunter chuckled, loving the picture before him. Loving the sight of Rex lost to need and lust. He loved the warmth that spread through his chest, knowing that for now ... at this moment, he was the strong one, taking care of the Sidhe in every way possible.
He carefully brought up Rex's knees and raised his ass, pressing as gently as he possibly could. His hand was slick with Rex's juices; his cock was slick with his own. He slipped in easily, painlessly.
"Come down here. I want to see your face."
Hunter lowered his legs; Rex wrapped them around his hips, holding him close. They barely moved, simply enjoying the sensation of being joined, connected. Hunter pulled back and thrust, sinking a little deeper, and deeper still, until Rex groaned, and he knew he was balls deep.
The pressure on his cock was blissful. Under his belly, he felt Rex's shaft as a hard, hot pressure. He rocked, watching the Sidhe's beautiful face for any sign of pain or discomfort. Rex smiled and pulled him close for a kiss.
Odd that this gentle lovemaking would bring him so fast, so hard, but something about the energy, the control, the very restraint of the act brought Hunter crashing to that place much faster than he'd expected. He fought the climax, rising from Rex's hard, warm body, struggling for control.
"Nearly there?"
He nodded, looking down at the slender man under his body. He looked at the smooth muscle of his chest and belly, the dark hair that ran from navel to groin. He dipped, sucking gently on a rigid nipple, one hand sliding down to clasp Rex's shaft. He pumped his cock even as he thrust, determined that they'd go together. He felt the Sidhe clasp his hips, fingers digging deep into his skin. Hunter squeezed his eyes tightly shut, focusing on Rex, willing his arousal up and over, holding back with every fiber of control he possessed.
All the while, he was suspended just at that moment before climax, when the body is taut as a bowstring, every muscle quivering, every nerve flaring to brilliant life. Rex was climbing, his body struggling, his hips pumping hard on Hunter's cock.
"Ah ... now, Hunter ... oh ... damnation!"
And they were there ... together at the very moment.
Red smoke hazed his vision, every movement of his body focused on spending within the body of his lover. And at the very height of his climax, Hunter knew they weren't alone, that another body was twined with theirs, insubstantial and hungry, drinking in the very energy of their sex.
But her touch was gentle this time, and as they lay tangled and spent, sweat and seed drying on their bodies, he felt a hand gently stroking his skin, his thighs. Rex's hands still dug into his hips, and his tail lay to the side. A phantom kiss brushed his lips, a perfumed tongue caressed his mouth. Hunter closed his eyes tightly and saw a face turn toward his, her eyes growing wide with alarm.
Hunter didn't know whether to laugh or cry, to know anger or fear. He dragged his head up and looked around the room, but the dim light told him they were alone.
He looked back down at Rex's flushed face. The Sidhe hadn't seemed to notice that anything was wrong. Instead, he reached up and brought Hunter down for another kiss, long and lingering, their tongues gently dueling. He pulled away, tears bright in his eyes.
"She was here, Rex."
"Was she? I didn't even sense her.” He drew an arm back behind his head, a worried look on his face. “She fed off you?"
"Us. When we spent. It wasn't bad. Just ... unsettling.” He dipped his head, claimed another kiss. He buried his head in Rex's shoulder, breathing deeply, savoring the fragrance of lavender and earth and so many other good things.
"Tomorrow, then. We'll go to Glasgow and catch a ship."
"Where will we go, Rex?” He tried to roll to the side, but strong arms held him in place.
"We'll take the first ship out. We can go to Italy and look at the paintings of the great masters ... or even to Egypt or Africa."
"America?"
Rex shook his head. “They're at war. When that passes, I'd like to see the vast forests and plains. It must be a wondrous place."
Finally he released Hunter from his embrace, and the angel slid to his side, pulling Rex in close to his body. He ran his fingers through the soft russet curls.
"We'll be fine, Hunter. That I promise."
Hunter felt Rex grow loose in his arms, relaxing into sleep. The room grew dark and yet Hunter continued to watch, seeking out the slightest trace of danger.
"And I'll keep you safe, Rex. That I promise."
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Belinda McBride
Belinda lives in the wilderness of the Siskiyou Mountains and at night, she runs naked with a pack of wolves...
Uhh...
Belinda lives near the Siskiyou Mountains and shares her home with a pack of Siberian Huskies who like to pretend they are wolves. And she usually keeps her clothing on when she goes outside.
Being born into a multi-racial family gave Belinda a unique outlook on the world and a love for history and genealogy. Her great-grandfather was a noted Comanche leader who was one of the founders of the Native American church. Other relatives were bond servants from Scotland, Mongolians from Central Asia, and a foundling of African ancestry. And then there was her grandmother, who had two husbands ... at the same time...
Belinda loves to travel, collect rare gemstones, make soap and spend precious time with her daughters. Her degree is in History with a Cultural Anthropology minor. On weekends, you will often find Belinda ringside at a dog show, comb and spray bottle in hand.
She invites you to visit her website at www.belindamcbride.com, or email her directly at [email protected].
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Bad Angels: Falling Page 10