Bound Bounty
Brocas Nails is the most wanted man in the galaxy, and when he gets captured by the legendary bounty hunter Serge Tapp, he must suck, screw, and fight his way to freedom! 5000 words, m/m, oral and anal sex, spanking.
About the Author
Victorie has risen from the depths of the netherworld to punish all the naughty boys and girls.
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Cry of the Wolf
By
Vivian London
Copyright © 2012 by Vivian London
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The creak of the inn door startled Alois, who certainly hadn't been expecting any travelers. Especially not this late.
Especially not so handsome. This newcomer he didn't recognize certainly set his heart beating a little faster, and not only from the obvious enchanted sword hanging at his hip.
"Evenin'," he said cheerily. He put the cloth he'd been using to wipe off the table-top back in its place tucked into his belt, and made his way back toward his counter. "Haven't seen you in here before. What can I get you?" It was a simple enough spiel, he figured, for this new man did look like he'd come a long way. Alois could scent it on him.
Adlar gave Alois a nod, looking him over as he dropped his bag. "Mead for now. I'll need a room, for the rest of the week at least, possibly longer." He was reluctant to tell the nature of his visit, but he assumed that the townsfolk would eventually figure it out. The fewer questions, the better, so he intended to keep it to himself as long as he could. "Where's the owner?"
Alois was unable to resist a proud smile. For all the inconveniences the inn caused him regarding his transformations, it was still his pride and joy. "Standing rate is ten gold a night. And I'm the owner." His chest puffed out a little bit. "Bought this place around three years ago."
Having said that, he leaned under the bar to get a clean tankard and a bottle of the local mead. Brewed right there in the cellar. He set the full tankard down on the counter and then leaned on it himself. "Name's Alois. I take it you knew the previous people who owned this place, yeah?"
"Thought it looked nicer." Adlar mumbled, reaching into his travel bag and pulling out a satchel. "Here, a week's rent, paid in advance." He then took a long drink of mead, giving a small hum of appreciation. "Its been a while since I've been able to enjoy a fine cold brew," he mused, glancing up at the other man. "Alois, eh? I'm Adlar. You're not from Mystfell , are ye?"
"Thanks." Alois stashed the coin purse under the bar until he could bring it into his room later. "And thanks again. Make the stuff myself, as well as a few special drinks for the adventurous. Everyone enjoys mead though."
His mouth turned up in a wide smile, watching Adlar enjoy himself. "No. Originally from Brackenridge, all that way up north. Are you from down here? You swaggered in like you knew the place pretty well, I thought." He laughed, only meaning it as a gentle tease. It had taken the people here in Mystfell a long time to get suited to an innkeeper with a sense of humor.
"I lived here for a while, yeah." Adlar said before draining his mug. "Pretty much grew up here, though I left when I was still young and went--" He paused, looking over Alois again, "Up north." He pushed the mug forward, a quiet ask for another, but with a small smile. "Brackenridge. Your family from Cadlen then?"
Without even having to ask, Alois refilled Adlar's tankard. He also returned the small smile with a bigger one. "They were. Lived out in Brackenridge, commuted to the city, really. It was pretty idyllic, but I grew up learning how not to run an inn, if you know what I mean." He laughed. "The place up there is a rathole. Luckily, they had a boy my age who was handsome."
Adlar quirked an eyebrow, not saying anything as he drained half the mug. "So, why Mystfell ?" He asked after a moment. It was nice to talk to someone new, someone who was more pleasant than the miners that populated the inn in Averglow .
"I like the quiet." Alois pulled a stool up behind the bar so he could sit, also enjoying the pleasant conversation. Nights in the inn were typically pretty morose. "I also like the wilderness--plus I'd never been here before. I couldn't settle down somewhere I knew, I figured."
He shrugged, pulling up a bottle of mead for himself. "I did some adventuring, and suppose I still have the wanderlust for it."
"A bit hard to adventure when you have an inn to run, isn't it?"
"Unfortunately." Alois drank some mead and pulled a face. "Not so bad, though. Innkeeping--well--I feel like it was something I'm supposed to do. Always had a knack for mixing drinks, at least."
"It shows." Adlar's voice held a measure of admiration. "So, has Mystfell been as quiet as ever lately?"
"Mostly. Except for that whole Sigurd situation. Heard about that?" Alois looked sourly down the neck of his mead bottle. "Ripped a woman to shreds recently." The words to tell Adlar that Sigurd was a werewolf were on the tip of his tongue but prudence and fear of discovery held him back.
Adlar fought back the urge to grin--the rumours were true! "Oh? Are they blaming the old Mystfell Fever with it?"
"I have other suspicions." Damn his wagging mouth. Alois settled back on his stool with a rueful smile playing about his lips. He reached up to smooth down one of his scruffy sideburns as he told Adlar, "I think he's a werewolf."
"Good." Adlar said, draining his mug. "That's why I'm here."
"Eh?" With that one comment, Alois' pulse began racing again. "You a werewolf hunter or something?" Please don't be.
Adlar smirked. "Something like that. More of a bounty hunter, really."
"Ohh." Alois finished the rest of his own mead, more than a little relieved. He'd hate to have been found out and murdered. "I see. So you want to take care of this Sigurd problem, so to speak, and then reap the Baron's gratitude? Just a friendly word of warning--he might give you some coins, but don't expect any kind words from Bryngrim." Alois rolled his eyes. "Thinks we common folk are nothing but maggots."
"The Baron? You think I'm doing this for the Baron?" Adlar chuckled, the sound low and dark in his throat. "My aspirations are much higher than that. The thrill of the chase, the hunt, now that's what I'm after. The gold is secondary."
"The hunt," Alois repeated. He drummed his fingers on the wooden bar, feeing the blood in his veins practically thrill. He hunted several nights a week, which was difficult enough to manage already, but sometimes just hearing it like that made him crave the earth under his claws, soft prey-flesh in his teeth…
He snapped out of his reverie, refocusing on Adlar with a lazy, secretive sort of smile. "Then I hope you fare well in that, Hunter."
Something in Alois' tone sent a jolt through him, and suddenly his senses were alive. Not here, not now. He swallowed hard, fighting back the array of sounds and smells, but one scent stood out, something familiar that he couldn't quite place. It was going to bother him until he discovered it. In spite of himself, he sniffed the air, trying to pin down the source, but was overwhelmed by the smell of blood, sweat and alcohol in the inn. "Do you have a dog around here somewhere?"
Immediately Alois' blood, running hot with the thoughts of fresh blood, turned to ice. "No, we don't keep a dog here. Sometimes village folk bring one in, but it doesn't stay." As if to prove his point, a huge grey cat made its presence known as it jumped onto the bar. It meowed demandingly at Adlar.
"Means I have to scrub down the inn again, I guess," he laughed. Trying to lighten the mood.
"Oh." Adlar looked surprised. "Must be what I smelled then. Not that it stinks in here, mind you, but in Averglow , animals weren't allowed inside the inn." He was babbling, trying to cover his near-slip. "What's his name?"
"Wulfgar." Almost on command the cat meowed again. "There's a few others around here somewhere. Probably sleeping on my clean beds." Alois laughed again. "Averglow ? That's quite a long way."
"It is. But I'd rather not talk about it, grateful to be away from it." Adlar smiled, lifting his empty tankard. "Damn. Another round?" He asked with a wink. As Alois moved to refill his mug, he took a moment to
really look at the man. There was something about him that intrigued Adlar. His eyes raked over the man, from his well-toned arms and chest, down to his hips that swayed a little with each step, back up to his handsomely rugged face, short messy hair and sideburns. There were scars on his face, probably reminders of his adventuring days, and a curious faded red tattoo both above and below his eye. Adlar felt his face heat momentarily--Alois was certainly an attractive man.
"Most certainly," Alois purred. He knew flirting when he received it, and just how to give it back, doing some unnecessary flexing to open Adlar's next mead bottle, and his own.
He'd had the opportunity to look Adlar over when he'd first entered the inn and definitely liked what he saw. Long, braided dark hair with beads and feathers--a nice touch--with a prominent nose and when he turned his head, Alois saw the blue inked ivy leaf on his neck, the symbol of Mystfell. Toned arms, but not too big and muscular, and from what he estimated, a cute ass.
Perfect. Alois knew he'd be smitten with Adlar by the end of the week, if not before. "Glad you're enjoying it."
"This isn't local stuff, I can tell." Adlar felt his face heat again, and hoped he could pass it off as simply being in his cups. "I assume its a mix? Personal recipe, yeah?" He felt that familiar twinge, the beast inside him raised its head to sniff around. Not now. He thought again, trying to push it away. He turned his attention back to Alois, watching the man move. His cock twitched at he watched muscle move under skin, clothes pulled taught across his broad shoulders, a single bead of sweat rolling down the side of Alois' neck. The beast within him howled.
It probably would have been a comfort to Adlar to know he wasn't alone. The beast in Alois was answering to Adlar; straining and chomping at the bit. "Mmhm. Glad you have enough taste to notice. I guess the folk here have drank so much of it they don't even care anymore." Despite trying to keep his voice light, some huskiness seeped through.
Desire was already taking its toll on Alois. Passion ran so much closer to the surface for werewolves, he figured, and base desires were very strong. Like the urge to, well, mate. To grab Adlar's shoulders and force him down, to submit, earn that right to mount him--Alois took a breath. A deep breath. Suddenly, he needed his pipe--but didn't dare move to get it, lest Adlar see the bulge his halfhard cock made in the thin pants he was wearing.
"I've got some Reserve in here somewhere, too, if you're feeling fancy." By the gods, it was so difficult to keep his words sounding somewhat normal.
Adlar swallowed, "That'd be a real treat." He reached down, ducking his head under then bar as he searched for his coin purse. He took a deep, quiet breath, closing his eyes for a moment, trying to push away unbidden images that had come to mind, images of Alois undressing, of himself on his knees in front of the man, Alois with his fingers tangled tight in his hair, forcing his head down and his mouth closer to his cock. Adlar took another deep breath, sitting up, certain his face gave away his guilty thoughts. He placed some coin down on the table, "Before I'm too drunk to remember." He forced a laugh.
"I'd have given it to you at a discount--don't worry." There was still a rumbling purr in Alois' voice no matter how he wanted to hide it. "And I'd have reminded you in the morning." Maybe there was something about wolves, he thought, being able to sense desire in a room. Heightened senses of everything thanks to his secret.
He bent and stuck Adlar's coins next to the rest of them on the shelf below the bar, grabbing a bottle of Reserve for his guest. He wanted to fuck Adlar, bend him right over the bar and wreck his ass until Adlar couldn't even walk to his bed. Then make damn sure he wouldn't walk for a few days. "If I needed to. You don't look too tipsy to me, but I've been wrong before." He chuckled again, biting his lower lip as fantasies continued to assault his mind.
"Like I said, its been a while since I've had a good drink like this." Adlar noted the way Alois' voice seemed deeper, huskier. Adlar smiled. "I'm feeling it." He wondered for a moment how Alois might react if Adlar began stripping his clothes off, if he begged Alois to fuck him, his mouth, his ass, anything. He took another deep breath, before lifting his mug. "Cheers."
"Cheers, Adlar." Alois' voice still had that husky tone because his cock was still hard. Harder, actually, imagining cock-bruised lips and those flushed cheeks, with a little added topping of his own, so to speak. His wants were never usually this intense. "I'm giving it to you hard--half price. I mean."
Now it was Alois' turn to flush for slipping up like that.
Adlar looked up quickly, mouth falling open. Did he just hear that right? He was afraid to ask, but at the same time, he desperately wanted to know. "Alois--" The name came out a hoarse whisper. He cleared his throat. "So, do you, uh, run the inn alone?"
"All alone." Alois bit his lip, trying to gauge Adlar's facial expressions. Was he reading them right? "Not a customer tonight, either. Just my cats." Please let me fuck you. "It can be a--ah--a lonely place, late at night."
"No one else here?" Adlar reached up, unbuckling his armour and dropping it onto his travel bag. He hoped he was right about Alois as he unlaced the top of his shirt, showing some skin. "Its a bit warm in here, I hope you don't mind."
Damn. Alois knew, at that moment, that he and Adlar were going to fuck--tonight. Hard. "Adlar." He purred the man's name again, and then reached quickly across the bar. Adlar's shirt bunched up in his powerful fist as Alois pulled him practically across the counter and against his waiting, greedy mouth for a brutal, searing kiss.
Adlar moaned into the kiss, hands moving to the bottom hem of his shirt. He tried to pull it up over his head, but Alois' hands were in the way. Desperate, he ripped the shirt, forcing Alois to relinquish his hold on him long enough to lose his shirt. His fingers went to the lacings on his pants, and he prayed to every god listening that Alois wouldn't have a surprise customer that night.
As soon as Adlar went for his pants Alois practically leapt across the bar with supernatural agility to grab at him. It was bestial, animal passion and lust as he nearly ripped his own clothes off. His cock was swollen, slapping against his taut stomach with nearly every movement he made as he grabbed at Adlar, running his fingers--his claws--over the man's skin.
His teeth grazed tender flesh as he tried to find his way back to Adlar's mouth and claim it again, growling all the while.
The scent was back, stronger than before and suddenly Adlar knew what it was. "You're a wolf." He breathed, words turning into a moan as Alois' teeth moved over his skin. "Gods, Alois, fuck me!"
"So are you." Gods yes. "Oh, gods, Adlar." Alois growled deep in his chest and unapologetically shoved Adlar down against the bar hard, just like he'd fantasized. His muscles rippled as he kept the squirming man pinned down, even though Adlar was only squirming to thrust his ass back at Alois to present himself, utterly for the taking.
So Alois did. He spat on his hand and gave his thick cock a squeeze and then slammed it home, spreading Adlar apart nearly all the way through. Alois didn't even pause before he began fucking him so hard, so beast-like, that the whole bar rattled. Every thrust drove his enormous cock in to the hilt, balls slapping hard against Adlar's skin.
"Yes," he growled, tilting his head back. The wolf in him howled triumphantly as he claimed Adlar, fucked him, made him Alois' own.
Adlar half-shrieked as Alois' cock slammed into him, his ass clenching tight with each thrust. "Fuck, Alois!" He moaned, nearly sobbing as his fingers scrabbled to get a good grip on the bar-top. He moaned again, arching his back as Alois' cock brushed against that spot deep inside him. "Alois," he panted, "I've never--oh fuck!" Adlar hoped Alois understood what he was trying to say, and appreciated the significance of it.
A sweat broke out across Alois' back as somewhere, dimly, his sex-addled mind processed those words. Adlar had never been fucked before--Alois was the first.
Mine, the wolf inside him roared, and Alois moaned aloud. He fucked Adlar even harder after that, trying to make his toes curl and his feet even leave the ground. "Mine," he
said aloud for both of their benefit, and slammed himself inside of Adlar's tight asshole as far as his body would let him. It was not enough. Adlar's searing, tight sucking heat enveloped his cock in a way he'd never felt before. It was impossible to keep from riding him like this.
"Oh gods, yes, yes!" Adlar moaned, shoving himself back onto Alois' cock with every thrust forward. "Alois, just like that!" His cock was rubbing against the bar counter, leaving a slick trail of precum along the wooden top. He moved one hand down, trying to slide it between his body and the bar, needing to feel more, more friction, more skin, more of anything.
Even if he had wanted to stop, at this point Alois wouldn't have been able to.
The wolf had taken over, though his shape was still that of a man, and Alois could do nothing but fuck. "Take it," he heard himself say, and almost didn't recognize his own voice. The wet, slapping sound of sweaty skin hitting skin continued; erotic in and of itself, but he could also hear, with his lust-heightened senses, the sucking sound of his cock pumping in and out of Adlar's stretched and abused asshole that so voraciously re-enveloped his cock every time he thrust it forward.
It only served to incense him further, trying to split Adlar's legs like he'd split his ass just so he could see if the other man could take even more.
Adlar cried out against the rough treatment, but made no move to stop Alois. His fingers wrapped around his cock, squeezing in half-hearted attempts to stroke himself. There wasn't much he could do besides lie there and accept the brutal fucking. He pressed back again, submitting to Alois, the man's name spilling from his lips with other mumbled words. With every growl of the wolf on top of him, with every thrust, Adlar found himself closer and closer to cumming.
The submission was delicious; Alois could nearly taste it on his tongue. He scented blood, too, and groaned.
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