Channeling the Womanizer’s Lust

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Channeling the Womanizer’s Lust Page 5

by Charlie Richards


  Deciding he needed something a little stronger, Mitch focused on the server and stated, “Give me a double shot of rye and one of those.” He finished by pointing at the beer bottle.

  “Will do.” The woman turned and hustled away.

  “Hmmm, need a little liquid courage to face me?” Kardamon’s eyes narrowed even as his lips curved into a predatory smile. “I don’t know whether to be insulted or flattered.”

  Mitch snorted. “Look. I made a promise not to do anything that would reveal your kind.” Whispering his words, he leaned closer. “But you’re risking that by sneaking in here, so this is me trying to help.” Waving his hand in a go ahead motion, he stated, “Why don’t you say whatever the fuck you want to say and then we’ll go our separate ways.”

  Kardamon’s throaty chuckle caused the hairs on Mitch’s nape to stand on end. Feeling goose bumps rise on his arms, he grabbed the gargoyle’s beer and tipped it to his lips. In three large gulps, he finished the drink.

  “Help yourself,” Kardamon rumbled into his ear.

  Attempting to jerk sideways, Mitch found himself held in place. He glanced down and realized the big gargoyle was half-turned in his seat and was resting his left hand on Mitch’s thigh. His grip was tight... and his claws were scratching at the inseam of his jeans.

  When the fuck had he taken his glove off?

  “Relax, Mitch,” Kardamon urged, massaging his thigh. “I’m not really interested in a lot of chit-chat right now. Are you?”

  Mitch couldn’t help but notice the gargoyle eased his hand closer and closer to his crotch. His dick, which hadn’t expressed much interest in anyone for days, thickened swiftly. He felt almost lightheaded as all his blood flowed south.

  “Wh-What are you doing to me?” Even as Mitch asked the question, he knew the answer. “Why?”

  “Because you’re in need, my mate,” Kardamon growled. “Just relax. No one is looking. No one cares.” Dipping his head, he nuzzled his nose along the top of Mitch’s forehead, the brim of his hat sliding across the top of his head. “You need help. Help only I can give you.”

  Mitch’s breathing hitched. His nostrils flared as a shudder worked through him. He parted his lips as his body erupted with heat from the inside out.

  Flattening his palms on the table, Mitch tried to get his brain to function. He blinked in the dim lighting, struggling to focus. Spotting the server returning, he grasped at that fact.

  “D-Drinks are coming.”

  Kardamon hummed as he straightened a little, although he didn’t remove his hand. He did slide his fingertips closer to Mitch’s knee, offering him a reprieve. Bowing his head, he kept in the shadows of the booth as the server placed the drinks on the table.

  “On my tab,” Kardamon ordered.

  “Yes, sir.” Then she was gone again.

  “Your tab?” Mitch couldn’t resist asking.

  Kardamon met his gaze, allowing Mitch to spot a hungry glint in his gray eyes. “Yes. So much easier than dealing with cash.” Tilting his head, he nuzzled his cheek against Mitch’s temple as he whispered, “Drink your shot, Mitch. Then we’ll take care of something else you need.”

  Mitch wasn’t certain he understood how Kardamon planned to do that—or if he even wanted to know—but his double shot might just give him the courage to ask.

  Grabbing the tall cylindrical glass, Mitch lifted it to his lips. He downed the contents in two large gulps. His eyes immediately began to water as the burning liquid slid down his throat.

  Snagging one of the beers, Mitch washed down the double shot. He sucked in a harsh breath, then gulped several more mouthfuls of his beer. Glancing between his bottle and Kardamon, he tried to get his scrambled thoughts in order.

  Kardamon didn’t give him that chance.

  The gargoyle scraped his claws up Mitch’s inner thigh once more. Unable to help himself—acting on instinct—he spread his legs, giving his hard dick more room. Kardamon took complete advantage.

  Easing his claws between the flaps of Mitch’s fly, Kardamon teased along the zipper. The pressure caused Mitch’s erection to twitch and throb. His abdominals trembled as his breath caught in his throat.

  Pre-cum oozed from him.

  “P-Please,” Mitch mumbled.

  “Please what?”

  Shock coursed through Mitch at the intensity of the pleasure spreading through his groin. Tipping his head back, he met Kardamon’s feral gaze. He’d never begged for anything in his life, but the words just tumbled out.

  “I-I don’t wanna come in my jeans.” Mitch would forever deny the breathy whine in his tone. “Gotta stop.”

  “Or—” Holding Mitch’s gaze, Kardamon popped the button on his jeans, then slid down the zipper. He eased his fingers between Mitch’s flaps and gripped his hard cock, a grin showing off his sharp teeth. “Oh, Mitch. Commando?”

  “As if you have room to talk,” Mitch whined.

  Lowering his hands, Mitch pressed back into the cushion behind him. He rested his right hand on the padding next to his hip while he grabbed Kardamon’s thick jeans-covered thigh with his left. He bucked his hips. Gasps escaped him in time with Kardamon’s rhythmic squeezes to his near-painful shaft. His balls began to tingle.

  “You all w-wear loincloths.” Mitch ground his teeth as he felt the gargoyle’s thumb tease against the wrinkled flesh beneath his leaking crown. His balls began to tingle. “Fuck!”

  “I’d love to,” Kardamon crooned into Mitch’s ear. “I would happily bend over any flat surface so I could feel this beauty slide into my ass.” He finally began a slow jacking. “You could pound away, slake your need, all while my inner muscles rippled around you, massaging your length.”

  Mitch’s breath hitched in his chest. Staring vacantly across the expanse of the club, he didn’t see the nearly naked woman writhing around the pole. Instead, he lost himself in his imaginations.

  In his mind’s eye, Mitch tightened his grip on Kardamon’s hips. He pumped his hips, slamming his dick into the gargoyle’s hole with wanton abandon, over and over. His balls slapped against the other male’s, creating a delicious sting that had them rolling exquisitely.

  For the first time in days, Mitch’s imaginings didn’t cause his prick to wilt. Instead, he grew harder. His orgasm grew closer. His—

  With a groan and a jolt, Mitch came. His balls unloaded as his dick spurted. His heart felt as if it would burst right out of his chest with the ecstasy coursing through him with each amazing pulse.

  “Oh, Mitch.” Kardamon’s deep, husky voice penetrated the fog clouding Mitch’s mind. “That was so beautiful. You are stunning in your pleasure.”

  Peeling open eyelids he hadn’t realized he’d closed, Mitch blinked once, twice, before he could focus. He panted harshly, his senses still swimming. Turning his head from where it rested on the back of the bench seat’s cushion, he focused on Kardamon.

  The gargoyle’s dark eyes glittered in the dim light of the club. They held a hunger, a need. His wide deep-blue nostrils were flared, and his focus was on Mitch’s lap.

  Following Kardamon’s gaze, Mitch peered down. He trembled. The gargoyle cradled his still-half-hard prick in his hand. From the way it was cupped half around Mitch’s crown and with the pool of liquid filling it—not to mention it seemed no fluid dampened his clothes—it seemed Kardamon had caught all his cum. Mitch didn’t know if he’d ever come so hard in his life, and still, he felt his dick begin to twitch and thicken once more.

  And it was all caused by this fucking male gargoyle!

  Mitch was trying to wrap his mind around that when Kardamon released him and lifted his hand. The gargoyle slid his gaze to meet Mitch’s. Then he opened his mouth and lapped up the seed. All the while, a glow of enjoyment filled his eyes.

  Gaping, Mitch could only stare. Never had a bed partner looked so damn satisfied to be drinking his fluids. He liked it... more than he cared to admit.

  “You taste damn fantasti
c, Mitch,” Kardamon rumbled after he’d finished. His smile appeared lascivious as he swept his gaze over him, his focus stalling a little on his groin, before returning to his eyes. “So tell me, my mate? Were you thinking about feeling up the pole-dancer’s titties? Or something else?”

  Mitch opened his mouth, but he stalled in his response. Kardamon grinned, knowing he’d been caught. If Mitch lied, the gargoyle would instantly know.

  Kardamon chuckled low in his throat. His smile appeared feral. “So, do you want to do as you imagined?”

  His mouth went dry. Reaching forward, he grabbed his beer and downed it in three gulps. After he’d set it down, he swiftly did up his pants.

  “Yeah,” Mitch stated, holding Kardamon’s gaze. “Yeah, I wanna pound your ass. Let’s go.”

  Fucking hell. Man or not, I miss fucking.

  “I’m gonna pound you so good.”

  Kardamon hummed huskily. “Yes, please.”

  Chapter Six

  As Kardamon followed Mitch out of the strip club—his head bowed and his trench coat clutched close—he knew it couldn’t be that easy. When Raymond had alerted him to the fact that his mate was at a strip club, he hadn’t been certain what he’d find. Seeing Mitch lounging near the pole dancer’s platform, he’d feared he’d never get close.

  Fortunately, Fate had intervened.

  Thanks be to the gods.

  The fact that Kardamon hadn’t scented much in the way of arousal on Mitch until his human had realized who had grabbed him—yeah, totally gratifying.

  And now I’m taking him home.

  Just before they reached the doors, Kardamon heard someone call Mitch’s name. He tipped his head and spotted his human’s friend striding toward them. Mitch paused but didn’t head in the young man’s direction.

  Instead, Mitch murmured, “You come in a truck?”

  “I did,” Kardamon confirmed. “It’s at the dim end of the parking lot to the left.”

  “‘Kay. I’ll meet you out there.”

  Kardamon really wanted to refuse. He wanted to stay by his mate’s side, so he could be sure that Mitch would send his buddy on his way. Unfortunately, there were two big problems with that.

  First off, Kardamon would be putting the secrecy of gargoyles at risk, since the human would be sure to try to see him clearly. The second problem was just as big. It didn’t take a genius to realize that Mitch didn’t want to be associated with leaving with someone obviously male.

  Doing as Mitch had bid, Kardamon headed away, but not before offering words of warning. “If you’re not out in five minutes, I’m going to come looking again.”

  Mitch sent a scowl his way, then turned to face his friend.

  Kardamon wove slowly toward the door, keeping close to the darker shadows. With his heightened paranormal hearing, he was able to make out Mitch’s greeting.

  “Hey, Cain, done with your lap dance already?”

  Cain laughed, then stated with innuendo. “It wasn’t a lap dance. You need me to hook you up with her?”

  “Naw, man,” Mitch responded. “I’m cool. I’m just heading out.”

  “Already?”

  “Not feelin’ it, I guess. Don’t worry about—”

  Exiting the building, Kardamon headed through the parking lot to his truck. He reached his vehicle, unlocked it, and climbed behind the wheel. Wincing, he lifted his hips and adjusted his crotch.

  “Gods, how do men deal with such tight clothes,” Kardamon grumbled, doing his best to give his hard cock more room behind the fly of his jeans. It didn’t help that his balls ached with his need to come. It’d taken every bit of self-control he’d had not to release his seed when his mate had.

  Kardamon hadn’t told Mitch that drinking his seed had started their bond—weakly, but it was started—and had no intention of doing so. After talking with the guy’s buddies, plus his interaction at the house, then no contact, he wasn’t above using every bit of coercion that he could. Watching out the window, Kardamon waited impatiently.

  “Lookin’ for me?”

  Kardamon started as the passenger door opened, and Mitch hopped into the cab.

  Shit! How did I miss him crossing the lot?

  Realizing it didn’t matter, Kardamon gave his mate a hungry smile. “Yes.”

  Mitch’s brows shot up, obviously surprised by his honesty. He cleared his throat as he shut the door, then reached for his seatbelt. “Well, I’m here now. Oh, one rule.”

  Kardamon started the vehicle and got them moving. “What is that?”

  “No biting.”

  Not at all surprised to hear the caveat, Kardamon nodded. “No biting until you give permission. Got it.”

  “And I ain’t givin’ you my ass,” Mitch declared, his expression firm. “Got it? I’m fucking you.”

  Kardamon glanced at his passenger before returning his focus to the road. “You are fucking me. Agreed.” His asshole clenched in anticipation. “I’m certain you don’t understand, but I look forward to you taking your pleasure from my body.”

  “No, I definitely don’t.”

  Mitch mumbled the words, but Kardamon still heard them. He decided to respond anyway. “Odd, since the read I get off you is you’re something of a hedonist.”

  “What the fuck did you just call me?”

  Kardamon peered Mitch’s way, surprised by his outraged tone. He grinned. “A hedonist, Mitch. Someone who loves pleasure and seeks it out habitually.”

  His brows furrowing, Mitch stated, “Well, who doesn’t like pleasure?”

  “Exactly. It wasn’t meant as an insult, Mitch. Just an observation.” Kardamon scented that Mitch’s spike of ire was easing. “The reason I’m surprised is that playing with your prostate can be extremely pleasurable, bliss-inducing, even.”

  Mitch gaped at him. “Are you telling me that having something shoved up my ass is bliss-inducing?” He snorted and shook his head, his disbelief clear. “No way, dude. I’ve had a prostate exam. That’s total BS.”

  “Don’t believe me?” Kardamon heard Mitch scoff as he shook his head again. “Tell you what. If I give you the best damn orgasm from playing with your prostate, will you reconsider ass-play? After all”—he leered at Mitch and waggled his eyebrow ridges—”I already know how enjoyable it can be.”

  “Not—” Mitch snapped his mouth shut. He scowled out the windshield.

  Kardamon just imagined the wheels turning in Mitch’s head. Deciding to push just a little more, he purred, “You really think your friends keep disappearing to fuck and be fucked by their mates when it isn’t pleasurable?” He chuckled deeply. “Oh, Mitch. You are soooo denying yourself.”

  For several long moments, Kardamon remained silent. He could practically see the ideas churning through Mitch’s mind. With his mate’s love of pleasure, he knew he’d gotten him thinking.

  Anything to tip the scales in my favor.

  Deciding a subject change was in order, Kardamon asked, “May I ask what you told your friend? Where do you know Cain from?”

  “School,” Mitch answered readily enough. “Just told him I wasn’t feelin’ it, and I was getting a cab home.” He shrugged.

  Kardamon’s inference had been correct. Mitch wasn’t ready to be seen leaving with a male.

  I’ll change that someday.

  “And are we going to your place or mine?”

  “Uh, mine.” Mitch peered at him. “You know the place. My friends helped you ambush me there.”

  Chuckling unabashedly, Kardamon grinned widely. “It’s a nice place. I can come and go through the woods, and no one will see me.” He saw Mitch’s eyes widen, so explained, “I mapped it on the internet. Only about twenty-three miles, so ten minutes as the gargoyle flies.”

  Mitch scoffed. “Good one.”

  “I admit I was a bit surprised when your friends told me you had cash to buy a house,” Kardamon commented. Needing to come clean, he added, “So I had Raymond do a backg
round check on you.” When his comment was met with silence, he swept his gaze over Mitch’s stony features as he peered out the window. “I see I’ve put my foot in it.” At least scenting the unease rolling off his mate caused his erection to soften. Recalling how Mitch had enjoyed his touch earlier, Kardamon rested his hand on Mitch’s thigh and squeezed lightly, scraping his claws along the inseam of his jeans. “Please try to understand that you are my mate and my instinct is to please you and care for you.”

  “Enough with the mate shit.” Even though Mitch crossed his arms over his chest, he spread his legs wider. His breathing hitched as his arousal perfumed the air of the cab. “I don’t wanna hear it.”

  “Whether you want to hear it or not”—Kardamon slid his hand up and cupped Mitch’s cock through his fly—”doesn’t change the fact that it’s true.”

  Mitch hissed, uncrossing his arms. He rested one hand on the center console and the other on the armrest. Using the new position, he bucked into Kardamon’s fondling touch.

  “Shit! How can I be fucking hard already?” Mitch’s breathing sped up as he continued his movements. “Only been, like, twenty minutes. Never recovered so fast before.”

  While Kardamon had no interest in hearing about Mitch’s past conquests, he couldn’t help but point out, “You’re mated with a paranormal, Mitch, and we have exceptional recovery time. Your sex drive will increase to match mine.” Rubbing harder, Kardamon offered for consideration, “Just think of how many bliss-inducing orgasms we’ll be able to experience each and every night. What do you think? Four? Six? Ten?”

  Mitch’s nostrils flared as his head tipped back. “You think you’re that good?”

  “Oh, I know I’m that good.” At least, Kardamon knew he would be with Mitch. The human was his mate.

  “Put your money where your mouth is,” Mitch demanded, stopping his rocking. He pushed beneath Kardamon’s rubbing and opened his fly, then pushed his jeans down his hips. “Get me off again now, then get me hard enough to fuck you at my place, and I’ll agree to let you finger my prostate.” A growl entered Mitch’s voice as he demanded, “And it better be so fucking awesome that I get off on it.”

 

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