"As you are mine, Santos. If anyone else lays a hand on you, I will kill them," he promised, growling low in his throat.
The man's possessive words burned through Santos, making him even hotter. "Yesss," he hissed before claiming Tyron's mouth in a heated kiss. He brought his claws to Tyron's waist, intending to shred the man's jeans, but Tyron stayed his hands.
"Ah, ah. I need those," he teased.
"Then you'd best get them off," Santos growled. He unbuttoned his pants, letting them slide down his hips as he pulled out his twitching cock and slowly stroked it. He watched as Tyron leered at his swollen dick. The gargoyle slid his hands down his chest, taking a second to tweak his own nipples through his shirt before grabbing the hem and pulling it over his head. Immediately Tyron's green wings curved upward behind him. Growling low in his throat, Santos's own red wings spread behind him, sending swirls of wind around the pair, echoing their desire.
He wrapped his fist tighter around his cock as he watched Tyron shimmy out of his jeans. He nearly swallowed his tongue when the gargoyle sucked three fingers into his mouth before turning around, leaning one hand up against a tree, and shoving two of the now wet fingers into his ass. Mesmerized, he watched as Tyron pumped them in and out, his body rocking as he fucked himself on his fingers.
When Tyron shoved in a third finger, Santos growled and lunged forward. He wrapped his claws around the gargoyle's wrist, pulling the fingers free. Lining up his cock, he shoved into the smaller man, not stopping until he bottomed out and his balls slapped against Tyron's ass. "Mine," he snarled into his bindling's ear. "My ass!" A possessiveness he'd never felt before swept over him. His teeth shifted fully, something he almost never allowed to happen, and he showed off a mouthful of sharp teeth.
Tyron's eyes widened as he stared over his shoulder at him. For a second, Santos thought he'd scared his mate. Then Tyron groaned and shoved his ass against him. "Claim me," he whispered. "Tear into me with that sexy grin."
A shudder of excitement racked his body at Tyron's words. Fuck, if Tyron's mewling, vibrating body was any sign, his bindling was turned on by the idea of his teeth slicing into his shoulder. A growl escaping him, Santos gave them both what they wanted as his hips began to thrust in and out of Tyron's tight, hot sheath. He gripped his bindling where the shoulder met the neck and bit hard. Blood gushed over his tongue, and he moaned at the exquisite taste of his mate. Fuck, the small sips he'd enjoyed while in the Overworld didn't do Tyron justice.
Tyron screamed, but it wasn't in pain. His cry of pleasure echoed between the trees as the sun warmed their skin. His gargoyle's ass clenched as his release shot from him, painting the bark of the tree in pearly essence. Tyron's muscles locked around Santos's cock, sucking the orgasm out of him. The demon released the gargoyle's flesh, blood dripping from his teeth. He threw his head back and roared his release. "Mine," he growled repeatedly, his body still shuddering from aftershocks from the most intense orgasm of his life.
"Yours," Tyron murmured, leaning back against Santos's still shivering body.
Still connected, Santos dipped his head and licked at the wound he'd torn into Tyron's shoulder. Yeah, he'd bit him a little hard, but fuck his mate was sexy. He couldn't stop himself. Gently he suckled the flesh, healing it with his saliva as only a mate could, leaving a large pink scar.
Santos sighed, looking over the mark he'd left on his mate. Smiling at the proof that Tyron was now his, he finally let his softening cock slide out of his bindling. Both of them groaned at the sensation. "Soon. I'll have you again soon," Santos promised.
Tyron grinned before bending to retrieve his pants. "I'm going to hold you to that," he quipped.
Growling teasingly, Santos put his pants to rights before grabbing his bindling and latching onto his lips. When he released Tyron, Santos smiled at his mate's shining eyes. "Any time, love. Any time."
Before he could start anything else, Tyron eased away from him and grimaced. "I could really use a shower and a change of clothes. And I really need to check in with my Huzza."
Santos smiled and nodded. "A bed would be preferable," he teased. Gripping Tyron's hand tightly, he began to jog through the forest. "Come on, sexy. Let's go find one." Winking over his shoulder, he pulled Tyron behind him. "I've got ideas for what to do in that shower!"
They reached Rostrorod, and Santos pounded on the door, since Tyron didn't have keys on him when he'd been kidnapped. The door swung open, revealing a gargoyle Santos didn't recognize.
"Tyron," the large man shouted. "Are you okay?" he asked, pulling Tyron into a hug.
Santos growled low in his throat, not pleased to see his bindling in another man's arms. Tyron extricated himself from the other gargoyle, patting his arm. "Yes, Cliff, I'm fine. Santos saved me."
When Tyron turned and smiled at him, the love the gargoyle felt for Santos showed clearly in his eyes. Santos's growl turned to a purr as he pulled him close and kissed him. "And you saved me," he whispered the words for Tyron's ears alone. Gratefulness to the Fates for seeing fit to give him Tyron filled Santos.
After one more not-so-chaste kiss, he looked at the gargoyles standing around them. Most had expressions of surprise or amusement on their faces. "We need to speak with Maximus as soon as possible."
"I'm here, Santos," Max said, threading his way through the parting gargoyles. He held out a hand and pulled Tyron into a one armed hug before quickly releasing him. "Welcome home, Tyron. It's good to see you safe."
"Thank you, Huzza," Tyron said, ducking his head in submission.
Max chuckled. "Relax." He turned his piercing blue eyes on Santos, taking in his shirtless form and bruising ribs. He smirked. "Well, since you're alive, I'm assuming you came to some arrangement with the coalition?"
Santos smirked, nodding. "Yup. Thanks to my exceptionally strong-minded mate, I was able to get the permission requirement for claiming a bindling revoked. Any demon can now bind with whoever they want. It should make for an interesting couple of years for the coalition." He smirked, loving the idea of causing the controlling bastards trouble.
Max chuckled. "Glad to hear it."
"We have more to discuss," Santos said softly, his gaze roving over the men still looking on with interest. "Things of a more intimate nature."
"Ah. Of course," Max said. He started leading the way down the hall before glancing over his shoulder and winking. "Congratulations, by the way. Did you have to bite him so hard?"
Santos grinned. Allowing his jaw to shift to its natural form, he showed off a mouthful of very pointed teeth. "Tyron didn't complain," he purred, the arm wrapped around his bindling tightening.
Max laughed at Tyron's blush and opened the door to his study. "I'm sure he didn't."
Serena followed him into the room and crossed to the sideboard. "Do you want anything?" the female gargoyle asked.
"Tequila," Santos replied, eyeing Max's sister. He'd heard that female gargoyles were so rare that they had two mates instead of one. He'd have to ask Tyron about that some time. Turning to look at Tyron, he asked, "What about you, little one? Do you want anything?"
"What time is it?" he asked.
"Almost two in the afternoon, Tyron," Max said gently. "Don't worry. Your shift at the infirmary is covered until tomorrow."
"Thank you," Tyron murmured. He looked at Serena and shrugged. "Got any Caribbean rum over there?"
She laughed lightly. "Of course. My brother keeps just about everything back here." Winking, she pulled a couple bottles and tumblers from different cupboards behind the bar.
After settling with their drinks, Max leaned forward. "Now what's this about, Santos?"
"Did Tyron tell you I've been looking for a relic from the McDarmund tribe?" After Max and Serena nodded, he grinned smugly. "Well, I've found one. And it's right here in Rostrorod!"
About the Author
Charlie lives on a mini ranchette in Utah with her handsome, supportive husband. She started writing fantasy when she was eight, and after stu
mbling onto her first erotic romance at nineteen, she realized her true calling. She now focuses on writing erotic romance, often of the paranormal variety, with heroes and heroines of all kinds. You can often find her curled up with her laptop and a cup of tea or glass of wine, creating her next story, which could pair a sexy hero with an adventurous heroine... or maybe with another handsome hero. Charlie enjoys horseback riding, jump lessons with Apache, watching movies with her husband, and listening to her muse tell her about her next project.
She can be reached at [email protected]
Or at www.charlie-richards.com
Table of Contents
[email protected]
Binding Santos Page 5