Professor Blood (Ironwrought Book 2)

by Anna Wineheart

  Brandon trailed his fingers over Quinn’s ass, squeezing his cheeks. Then he slipped his hand between Quinn’s legs, fingering the apex of his pants, right next to his entrance. Quinn’s hole tightened. He trembled, waiting for Brandon’s callused fingers to probe further.

  “Touching my hole? I didn’t think you were this impatient,” Quinn whispered, sucking Brandon’s lip into his mouth, tasting the salt of his blood.

  “You didn’t see how hard you got the last time,” Brandon said, dragging his finger between Quinn’s cheeks, a slow tease.

  “I must have put a test tube in my pants.” Quinn pushed his ass into Brandon’s hand, groaning when Brandon stroked lightly over his taint, then his balls. If he had any blood left to spare, it was all in his cock, now.

  “Doesn’t feel like it’s just one. Too thick.” Brandon murmured, reaching between them. His large hand slid slow and sweet down Quinn’s front, from his chest to his abs to his groin. He caught the length of Quinn’s cock, squeezing lightly through his pants, and the pressure shot straight down to Quinn’s balls.

  Quinn groaned, grinding into Brandon’s fingers. “You’re familiar with test tube sizes.”

  Brandon chuckled, his laughter rumbling through his chest. Quinn pressed himself closer, needing more of this man, needing him to grin and snark and push inside.

  Instead, Brandon hummed, his fingers dragging down Quinn’s cock, from base to tip. His fingertips whispered over the fabric. “You’ve got a bigger test tube in here,” he said. “But I’d have to look to be sure.”

  Quinn groaned, throbbing at the thought of Brandon’s gaze on his cock. Brandon was a hunter. He could kill Quinn, but here he was, touching Quinn’s cock, pleasuring him. And Quinn wanted to show Brandon his cock, wanted to grind up against him, drag his cock over Brandon’s abs.

  He’d jerked off to that, too.

  Quinn grasped Brandon’s shirt ends, hauling him closer. The cuts on his cheeks smelled like copper, like blood and promise. Quinn tiptoed a little, dragged his tongue over them, licking up drying blood. Then he pushed his tongue into Brandon’s mouth, and Brandon sucked on him, his soft lips sliding over Quinn’s tongue.

  “I didn’t think you’d be hard for a vampire,” Quinn gasped, squeezing Brandon’s cock. After they’d struggled and fought, after Brandon had tried to kill him that first day, fucked him up against the door...

  “I’d do more for a vampire,” Brandon growled, his thick cock pushing against Quinn’s palm, hidden behind layers of fabric.

  “Like what?”

  “Suck your cock.”

  Quinn’s mouth went dry. “Really, Brandon?”

  “Question me again, and I won’t do it.”

  “You can’t be serious,” Quinn whined.

  Brandon slid his hands under Quinn’s ass, hefting Quinn up against his own cock. Quinn gasped, squirming, needing to feel him. Brandon carried him into the office. Then he set Quinn on the desk, turning him around so he faced his seat.

  Quinn barely glanced around at the familiar room. Instead, he spread his thighs, gulping. “I can’t believe this.”

  “Gonna believe it when I fuck you?” Brandon pulled Quinn’s pants open, pushed down the waistband of his briefs. Quinn’s cock slipped out, jutting up between them, his tip pushing past his foreskin. The chilled air of the office cooled his damp tip, and Brandon swore, reaching down to rub his own cock.

  Quinn gulped, staring at the bulge of his cock. “Don’t I get a say in whether you fuck me?”

  Brandon seated himself in Quinn’s chair, setting Quinn’s feet apart. Then he pulled Quinn’s socks and shoes off, dropping them to the side. “You don’t want to be fucked?”

  “I didn’t say that.” Quinn spread his thighs further, feeling deliciously vulnerable, as though he were sitting on an observation desk. His cock was two feet away from Brandon’s face.

  Brandon smirked, leaning in to blow on it. Warm air rushed over Quinn’s cock; it jerked, and Brandon’s smile widened. “You’re so damn sensitive.”

  “Stop looking and start doing something,” Quinn hissed, spreading his legs. Maybe this was wrong, Quinn spread out like this, in front of a hunter and a student. But he liked Brandon, wanted Brandon’s mouth around his cock, and this was sweet torment.

  “Lift your hips,” Brandon said.

  Quinn frowned. “I’m your professor.”

  Brandon slapped his thigh, the sound loud in the tiny office. Pain jolted through Quinn’s leg, his cock jumping. Brandon grinned.

  “Damn you,” Quinn said, lifting his hips off the cool desk.

  Brandon tugged Quinn’s pants and underwear out from under his ass, leaving their waistbands stretched taut around the tops of his thighs. Then he pushed his hand between Quinn’s legs, beneath the bunched fabric, and grasped Quinn’s cock.

  Pleasure hummed through Quinn’s body; he squirmed, and Brandon guided his cock under the waistbands, so it was trapped by the fabric of his pants, pointing right at Brandon.

  Quinn flushed. And Brandon smirked, lowering his head so Quinn’s pants shielded his face.

  He felt the light, warm touch of Brandon’s... tongue? Or was it his lip? It was wet and soft, and Brandon dragged it down the underside of Quinn’s cock, leaving a trail of damp along his skin. Then he licked up, his tongue flattened against Quinn’s cock, and his fingers caught Quinn’s foreskin, pulling it down, exposing his tip. Quinn shivered. Brandon huffed, his breath soughing heavy over Quinn’s cock, like he was taunting Quinn with his control.

  “What are you doing?” Quinn snapped, squirming, thinking he should pin Brandon and fuck him instead.

  “Examining you for... contamination.” And Brandon flicked his tongue at the sensitive spot just under Quinn’s head.

  Quinn swore, pleasure skidding through his body. “You examine things with your tongue.”

  “Maybe just this,” Brandon said, mouthing at Quinn’s tip, light, damp strokes of his lips that gave Quinn no relief.

  “Did you... find anything?” Quinn panted.

  “I’ll have to look closer.” Brandon’s touch dragged down Quinn’s cock, skimming lightly over his skin. Then he held Quinn with his snug, wet lips, and Quinn groaned, fucking up into his mouth.

  This was, perhaps, far too intimate. But Quinn trusted no one else, and it felt right, when Brandon licked his cock, taking him further inside. Quinn groaned, grasping Brandon’s hair, yanking him closer. “Brandon!”

  Brandon slid off his cock, leaving him damp. “You’re so damn hard,” he said, rubbing his thumb down Quinn’s underside, then his balls. Quinn hissed, jerking up.

  “Are you driving me insane?” he muttered, his cock aching.

  “Just gonna drive my cock into you,” Brandon said, kissing down the underside of Quinn’s cock, then his balls, his tongue dragging slowly over them.

  Quinn groaned, shoving Brandon’s face down against his cock. And Brandon pulled Quinn’s pants to his knees, leaning in, taking Quinn’s balls into his mouth. He sucked lightly on them, and the pressure punched straight through Quinn’s gut, made him leak.

  Brandon pulled away, his lips stretching lewdly around Quinn’s balls. “Gonna fuck you thoroughly,” he said. “You’re so damn wet.”

  “You’re just a student,” Quinn whispered, his pulse thrumming in his ears. “Somehow I doubt you’d fuck very hard.”

  Brandon’s eyes gleamed. “Fucking you through the desk isn’t enough?”

  “Down through the floor, maybe.”

  “If anyone complains about a hole in their ceiling—”

  “Just shut up and fuck me,” Quinn said, reaching down to spread his cheeks. Brandon’s hot gaze dropped to his ass, his throat working.

  Quinn’s hole squeezed under his attention. And Brandon rubbed his thumb over Quinn’s tip, smearing his precome down his length. Then he licked his thumb, sucking it clean. Quinn groaned.

  “You have any lube here?”

  “Bottom drawer,” Quinn said, heat
sweeping up his cheeks.

  Brandon’s eyes gleamed. “Really. You fuck anyone here?”

  “Just my hand,” Quinn muttered, looking away. And since Brandon knew, Quinn might as well tell the truth. “Actually, I was distracted when I sent that second email. The one about the lab tour. You weren’t supposed to receive it.”

  Brandon narrowed his eyes, reaching down for the desk drawer. “What were you distracted with?”

  Quinn gulped. “Like I said, my hand.”

  Brandon slid the drawer open with a rumble of metal, pulling the bottle out. He opened the lid with a snap, squeezed lube onto two fingers. “Who were you thinking about?”

  Quinn’s cheeks prickled. “I don’t have to answer that.”

  “Was it me?”

  Quinn pursed his lips. He’d said too much, and Brandon wasn’t supposed to know this.

  Brandon leaned in, blowing on the tip of Quinn’s cock, a light touch that said he had all the control between them. Quinn squirmed, needing more. And Brandon slid his thumbs between Quinn’s cheeks, spreading them to expose his hole. Quinn groaned, his sensitive skin stretching. He was far too exposed, and... worse, he wanted Brandon inside.

  “Tell me,” Brandon said, blowing lightly on his entrance, his breath heavy and warm. “Or do you want to spend hours here, your ass empty?”

  Quinn squirmed. “No!”

  Brandon slapped his thigh, and Quinn’s cock jerked. Then Brandon leaned closer, kissing the side of Quinn’s cheek. He was so close he could lick Quinn’s hole, but he didn’t.

  Quinn’s hole quivered. “Brandon, please.”

  “Tell me who you jerked off to.” He flicked his tongue over Quinn’s balls, and pleasure winded through his body.

  “You!” Quinn gasped, hating himself for saying it. But he needed Brandon’s touch more, needed Brandon inside.

  Brandon’s eyes gleamed. “What was I doing?”

  Quinn swore. “Are you going to be this aggravating?”

  “Every time,” Brandon said. “Until I get what I want.”

  “Damn it.”

  Brandon licked the inside of Quinn’s cheek, a hairsbreadth from his hole. “Tell me. How was I fucking you?”

  Quinn’s cheeks burned. Brandon knew that, too, then. “On all fours.”

  Brandon grinned, his eyes lighting with triumph. “In here?”

  And he rubbed his finger over Quinn’s hole, smearing lube over it. Quinn groaned, relaxing, hoping he’d slide inside. But Brandon circled his entrance with firm, warm fingers, holding his cheeks open.

  “How was I fucking your ass?” Brandon asked.

  Quinn groaned, hiding his face with his forearm. “With your cock, Brandon. Now stop teasing!”

  Brandon’s eyes gleamed. He licked his lips, stroking his fingertip over Quinn’s hole, sliding over it once, twice. Then he pressed his finger against Quinn’s entrance, pushing in, and Quinn felt himself stretch. Brandon swore, sheathing his finger deep inside. “So damn tight. Gods. When did anyone last fuck you?”

  “Decades, I think,” Quinn murmured.

  And a slow smile crept up Brandon’s lips. He dragged his finger around in a slow circle inside, slid it out. Then he pushed two in, and hooked them against Quinn’s prostate. Pleasure punched through Quinn; he cried out, his hips lifting off the desk. Brandon smiled, massaging that sensitive flesh, sliding over it, around it, until Quinn squirmed, his cock aching.

  “Gonna fuck you so hard,” Brandon growled, standing. “Until you only know my name.”

  Quinn flushed. “That’s arrogant.”

  “I want you to feel that good,” Brandon murmured. He withdrew his fingers, slid his rough hands up Quinn’s thighs, tugging off his pants and briefs. He threw them to the side, and Quinn was dressed only in his lab coat and his button-down shirt. So much for being a professor, really.

  Brandon grasped Quinn’s knees, pushing them down to his sides, spreading his thighs open. Then he stepped closer, pushing his covered cock against Quinn’s hole, Quinn’s cock straining vulnerably between them. Quinn wanted him inside right now.

  Instead, Brandon leaned in, so they stared at each other from inches away, a hunter and a vampire, a teacher and a student.

  Brandon rolled his hips once, stiff fabric rubbing against Quinn’s sensitive skin. Then he closed the distance between them, brushing their lips together. It was far too intimate, and it was nice.

  “Why are you even doing this?” Quinn whispered, his heart squeezing. “You don’t have to care for my pleasure.”

  “Tell me which bastard told you that,” Brandon said. He kissed Quinn again, his lips gentle, and Quinn returned it, his cock leaking onto his stomach. “You deserve pleasure.”

  To prove it, Brandon reached between them, callused fingers grasping Quinn’s cock, pumping him slowly. Pleasure wound through his body. Quinn moaned, thrusting up into his hand, professorial image be damned.

  “I want to give you pleasure,” Brandon said.

  Quinn’s stomach flipped. How many people had shown him kindness like this? I can’t believe I like you this much.

  Brandon leaned away and tugged open his pants, slipping his own cock out. It stood taller and thicker than Quinn’s, flushed tip gleaming with precome.

  “Gods,” Quinn moaned, his hole squeezing. “That is. I need.”

  “Need what?” Brandon grabbed the bottle of lube, squirting colorless fluid into his palm. Then he stroked it leisurely over his cock, down its underside and around, and pumped himself twice. His throat worked.

  “That. Your cock.” Quinn groaned. He reached up, rubbing his own nipples through his shirt. Brandon brushed his hands off, tugged Quinn’s shirt up over his chest. He leaned in, took one into his hot mouth, the edges of his teeth grazing over it, dangerous and pleasurable. Then the tip of his cock slid bluntly between Quinn’s cheeks, tantalizing.

  Quinn whined, his body taut with need. “Brandon!”

  “That’s it,” Brandon said, his breath dragging over Quinn’s sternum. “Say my name.”

  “I can’t believe you’re saying that to me,” Quinn gasped, arching his back, pushing his nipples at Brandon’s lips. And Brandon sucked on them, the pressure of his mouth shooting straight to Quinn’s cock. “Fuck, stop teasing me.”

  Brandon chuckled, a low, rumbling sound, and slid his cock up. It rubbed heavily over Quinn’s balls, then ground against Quinn’s cock, dripping precome onto Quinn’s tip. Quinn moaned, his body empty without Brandon.

  “My name,” Brandon said, sliding his cock heavily over Quinn’s.

  “Brandon, please!” Quinn cried. Brandon’s lips curved. With his fingertips, he pushed his cock down against Quinn’s, dragging it to the base of Quinn’s cock, over his balls and his taint. Then he rubbed his head against Quinn’s hole, thick, maybe almost too big, and Quinn shuddered.

  “This gonna affect my grades?” Brandon asked, grinding his velvety tip against Quinn’s entrance.

  Quinn’s breath tore from his lungs. Brandon was almost inside him, his cock a delicious pressure. “No! You know you can’t—can’t ask that!”

  And Brandon pulled his cock away, pushing the tips of his thumbs into Quinn’s hole, slowly stretching him open. Cool air brushed over Quinn’s skin, and he was so exposed like that. He squirmed, his cock jerking.

  “What about now?” Brandon asked.

  “Oh, hell,” Quinn gasped.

  Brandon slid his cock between his thumbs, pushing toward Quinn’s hole. For a breathless moment, Quinn wondered how he was going to fit all that inside. He hadn’t had anyone in so long.

  Then Brandon pulled his thumbs out, pushed his cock in, and it slid slow and thick into Quinn’s ass, inch by inch, until it filled him up. Pleasure hummed through his body. Quinn panted, every last shred of his attention anchored on Brandon’s cock, warm and solid inside him.

  “Gods, you’re so fucking tight.” Brandon gritted his teeth, his nostrils flaring. He rocked his hips, sheathing his cock deeper. �
�Feel good?”

  “Hell yes,” Quinn hissed, and Brandon leaned in, biting at his nipples. His cock slid a little ways out, then back in. It slid out again, and in, until Brandon was thrusting comfortably inside, rubbing up against Quinn’s prostate, sending jolts of pleasure through his body. Quinn couldn’t breathe. Brandon’s cock stroked him, teased more precome from his own cock. “Thought you were—were going to fuck me through everything.”

  Brandon grinned, his hips snapping forward. Pleasure speared through Quinn’s body. And Brandon increased his pace, his balls tapping against Quinn’s ass, his cock sinking all the way inside. Quinn groaned, trying to hold on, except Brandon fucked in harder, and Quinn’s cock throbbed, needing touch, needing to come. He reached down to pump himself. Brandon caught his wrists, pinned them to his sides, and his strokes grew frantic, his breaths staggering.

  With each thrust, Quinn’s pleasure grew, the need in his cock intensifying. And Brandon leaned forward, until he hovered over Quinn, their faces inches apart. Quinn stared into his eyes, felt Brandon’s touch deep in his body.

  “This—this is insane,” Quinn breathed, his nerves taut with pleasure.

  “I want to see you come,” Brandon rasped, reaching down to stroke Quinn’s cock. His grip tightened, slick and heavy, and Quinn panted. “Wanna fuck the come out of you.”

  Brandon wanted to see him spill, wanted to see him make a lewd mess. Quinn shuddered, ashamed. And Brandon thrust in, so deep his balls pressed against Quinn’s cheeks. Like a dam bursting, a surge of pleasure ripped through Quinn. His spine arched. His muscles clenched. Everything washed from his mind except that endless, intense bliss.

  Through it, those hazel eyes watched him, satisfaction flashing through their depths.

  When Quinn caught his breath, he found Brandon sliding slowly inside him, his eyes dark with desire. Then he drove his cock in, fingertips pressing into Quinn’s hips.

  Two weeks ago, they’d rutted together against the office door, snarling. Now, at Quinn’s desk, Brandon’s shoulders were relaxed, his hips bucking forward. Quinn imagined Brandon’s pleasure as he fucked in deep, a thrill sweeping up his spine. He wanted Brandon to feel good, too.