“Can we go back to the Other Place? Just until you recover?”
Rex shook his head. “Patrick was right. She’s tasted us. If we go there, that could give the dark ones a way into our world. It’s too dangerous. We just need to move.”
They lay quietly. Hunter could hear the beat of Rex’s heart, feel the velvety surface of his wings. Before they left, the Sidhe would lay protective wards on the house. The locals would slowly forget the little croft near the forest and it would gradually fade from view until Rex returned as his own son or nephew. He’d already dug up several small caches of coins and gemstones he’d hidden over the years. They had enough money to live on for a long time to come.
“What do you remember about the succubus?” Rex’s voice was low and strained. Had this been his burden these past days? Had the attack left him damaged in his soul?
“She was angry and frightened. Grief-stricken. I just remember her mouth on my cock, bringing me again and again. Not much else, I broke away before you did. Do you remember something different?”
“Hatred. She hated me, but needed me as well. I… I said yes to her, Rion. She didn’t take—I gave. She’s afraid of dying.” He rolled into Hunter’s chest, resting his cheek on the rough fabric of his tunic. “I don’t want to run from her. I want to find her, help her.”
“She’s a demon, Rex. She means to hurt us.”
“She’s a succubus, Rion. They haunt dreams and feed on lust. But they don’t do any real harm. They don’t kill. They aren’t necessarily evil or harmful—not like vampires.”
“But Azrael said—”
“I heard what he said. But do you remember what we talked about a few days back? About evil being a choice?”
“Yes. I remember.”
“I didn’t sense evil from her. Fear and fury and the need to survive. She needs help.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Hunter leaned back and looked down into Rex’s face. “That we find her? Is that what you want?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what I want to do. But I want you to remember that this world isn’t black and white. This world isn’t even shades of gray. It’s a vibrant place with all the colors you can imagine in all the combinations that the eye can understand. Just because someone does something bad doesn’t mean they are evil. Your friend Azrael sees only black and white. I don’t see that way, Kokabiel.”
“Don’t call me that.”
Hunter shifted away, moving to the edge of the bed. Rex’s tail held him tightly, not allowing him to escape.
“Make love to me, Orion Hunter.”
He felt his skin flush… Rex hadn’t touched him since they’d returned to the croft. They slept in the same bed, but with caution and distance. He’d ached for their lost intimacy.
“You’re still too weak.”
“I’m too weak to stand in a tree and fuck, but I’m strong enough for you to make love with me.” The Sidhe’s strong, rough hand slipped under Hunter’s tunic, stroking the soft skin of his chest and belly. With the urging of hands and lips and that comical tail, Hunter returned to Rex’s side, sighing as his shirt slipped over his head and his pants dropped to the floor.
Rex was on his back, his wings spread out beneath his body. With a sense of surrender that was somewhere akin to despair, Hunter rose over his lover’s slender body, covering it with his own. They kissed gently, lips clinging, breath mingling. He rose on his hands, looking down into the ghillie dubh’s eyes for guidance.
“Gentle this time, Rex.”
“Gentle,” he whispered in Hunter’s ear.
It was indeed gentle, skin brushing, lips caressing. Words of love were spoken and all feelings of guilt fled from Hunter’s soul. He knelt between Rex’s parted legs, kissing a soft line from belly to hip to that tender valley between thigh and groin. Before his eyes, Rex’s shaft filled and grew hard and straight, moving up over his belly.
He nuzzled, nipped and licked, teasing the beautiful, rounded head of Rex’s cock. One hand settled at the root of Rex’s shaft, with the other he fondled, tracing the line that divided his balls, following it down till it met his hole.
He wet his finger and teased, circling the starburst entrance, then dipped 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-cum dripped from the slit in his own cockhead.
“Lovely as this is…” Rex groaned as Hunter laved the entire length of his shaft. “For God’s sake, Rion… 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 spreading 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 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, and 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 had 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 running from naval to groin. He dipped, sucking gently on a rigid nipple, one hand sliding down to clasp Rex’s shaft. He pumped Rex’s 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, love… 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 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 fragrances 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. It will pass. Someday 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 soft russet curls.
“We’ll be fine, Rion. 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.”
Also available from Pride Publishing:
Heavenly Sins: Between Heaven and Hell
L.M. Brown
Excerpt
Chapter One
Tristan moved the computer mouse over the play button and clicked it. The video stream began with an out-of-focus shot of what appeared to be the carpet in the study. Then the image panned out and he saw the face on the screen. It was the face that stared back at him from the mirror, yet he had no recollection of making this recording. Of course, that had been the whole point, hadn’t it?
“Er, hi,” the man on the screen said awkwardly. “I’m Tristan Garrett and in a matter of hours I’m going to lose my memory. But I guess you already know that.
“Your parents and the rest of your relatives should believe you’re dead by now, so don’t go looking them up or anything like that. Your parents were…”
Tristan watched himself falter on the screen.
“Damn, this is pointless,” the recorded Tristan said. “I can’t tell you all about your life in just a few hours. There’d be stuff missing and it’d be like a half-written story with gaps and plot holes. So here’s the important stuff. The stuff you really need to know. It all started on Halloween night the year before last…”
* * * *
Tristan Garrett could feel the man’s eyes on him as he moved away from the bar. Like many of the men in The Inferno, the stranger had gone all out for Halloween and was the very image of a sexy, badass devil. He wore a pair of fake red horns atop his head. They poked out from his shoulder-length, ebony hair and the lights of the club caught them each time he turned to survey the crowded room.
Tristan admired the way his tight leather trousers hugged his shapely arse, and his hands itched to trace the washboard abs that were only partially covered by the black vest.
Tristan wasn’t the only man in the club following the devil’s movements. Several had approached him only to be turned away after barely a few seconds had passed. The direct approach didn’t seem to be working with this guy.
“He’s out of your league,” teased Lawrence, Tristan’s best friend and former lover, when he caught Tristan checking out the devil for the third time in less than ten minutes.
“No such thing,” Tristan replied lightly. “You’re the one who taught me to go after what I want and not let anyone tell me I’m not good enough for them.”
Lawrence took a swig from his pint of beer before he answered. “Fifty quid says you can’t pull him.”
Tristan watched as the devil rebuffed the latest man to approach him. The devil smiled in his direction and even though he hadn’t said a word, Tristan sensed he might have a chance if he were to try his luck.
“I’ll take that bet,” Tristan replied quietly. He maintained eye contact with the devil as he slowly finished his beer and put the glass down on a nearby table. He nudged Lawrence toward the dance floor. They had played this game countless times, and it almost always worked. Lawrence led the way and Tristan followed. Molding their bodies together, Tristan’s back to Lawrence’s front, they began to slowly move in time to the pulsing beat of the music.
Tristan closed his eyes and rested his head back on Lawrence’s shoulder, letting the taller man set the pace. He knew his fair-skinned looks and spiky strawberry blond hair were complemented by the contrast as he nestled against Lawrence’s dark hair and bulkier frame. He was a fit and healthy twenty-seven-year old, and while he wasn’t the best built guy in town, he knew how to draw attention to himself when he wanted to. Right now he wanted the attention of the devil focused on him. He wasn’t going to chase the other man to win the bet. The devil would come to him. He was absolutely sure of it.
Lawrence whispered the devil’s movements in his ear. “He’s watching us. We’re turning him on. He’s watching me grinding my cock into your arse and wishing it was his.”
Tristan moved back against Lawrence as his friend slowly rubbed his thighs, inching his fingers close to his groin. He guessed that within five minutes the devil would be approaching him, just as they had planned. The devil wouldn’t care he was with someone else right now—he’d step in and claim what he wanted, no matter who stood in his way. “Soon,” he whispered, as the slow beat of the music changed to a faster, insistent pace.
Sure enough, just a few minutes later, a hand on his chest caused him to open his eyes. “May I cut in?” the stranger in front of him asked politely.
Tristan blinked in surprise. It wasn’t the devil who stood before him. Instead, a blond Adonis had asked him to dance. Tristan stared into piercing blue eyes and nodded mutely. The man pulled him into his arms so they were dancing face-to-face and close enough for their erections to touch through the material of their jeans.
“I’m Mac,” the dancer whispered into his ear.
“Tristan,” Tristan replied when he finally found his voice.
Lawrence seemed slightly unsure as he stepped away. Tristan shrugged and smiled. “Guess I owe you,” he said. The dark-haired devil had left his spot near the bar and had disappeared into the crowd. Tristan realized he must have misjudged his potential conquest. He should have kept eye contact with him.
Still, the evening wasn’t a complete loss, not if he ended up going home with the hunk who was holding him close right now. The devil was forgotten as Tristan gave himself up to the music and the man who held him in his arms.
* * * *
The club lights came on, signaling closing time. Tristan and Mac finally left the dance floor and moved with the rest of the lingering clubbers toward the exit. They were nearly at the door when the devil from earlier in the evening stepped into their path. “You don’t play fair, Machidiel,” the devil said accusingly.
Mac swung his arm around Tristan’s shoulder and gave him a quick squeeze. Tristan recognized the move as the sign of possession it was. “Who’s playing?” Mac replied.
“This isn’t one of your usual haunts.” The devil reached out to run a hand down Tristan’s bare arm. “And this one isn’t your usual type.”
Mac smiled down at Tristan. “He isn’t exactly your type either, now, is he?”
The lights were brighter near the entrance, and Tristan could see the devil was wearing red contact lenses, completing the demonic look he had chosen to go for. Right now those eyes twinkled with amusement.
Before he could speak, Mac steered him around the devil and out into the cool night air.
“Tristan,” the devil called after them. “We have a date. Next Halloween.”
Tristan looked back over his shoulder only once. A shiver ran down his spine at the intensity he saw in the glowing red eyes.
How did the guy know his name?
* * * *
Tristan’s house was within walking distance and as aroused as he was, Tristan found himself thankful for the small blessing. No sooner had he closed the front door behind him than he was in Mac’s arms again.
“Bedroom?” Mac whispered between kisses.
Tristan pointed up the stairs. “Second on the right.”
Mac nodded and picked Tristan up, pinning him against the wall. Tristan wrapped his legs around Mac’s waist, clinging on as they rubbed up against each other, the friction sending shivers throughout his body. He could see their reflections in the mirror on the opposite wall as he clung to his soon-to-be lover.
“Too much,” Tristan gasped. “Gonna come. Can’t hold off.”
“Then don’t,” Mac said as he pushed Tristan closer to his peak. “Come for me right now.”
“Too soon.”
“We’ve got all night. Come for me, Tristan.”
Tristan locked his ankles and held on. He was so close. Just a little more and he’d be right there. The man in the mirror stared back at him. He didn’t recognize himself anymore. Did he always appear so wanton and desperate?
Mac continued to grind against him, pushing him a little farther up the wall with each thrust. Then, when his chest was level with Mac’s head, Tristan gasped at the sharp sting of teeth biting down on his nipple through the thin fabric of his shirt.
“Oh fuck!” he screamed as he felt the hot flood of release in his briefs.
Mac held him tightly in place against the wall as he came down from his high. “Shall we take this to the bedroom?”
Tristan nodded into Mac’s neck, but he couldn’t seem to summon enough energy to move any more than that.
With a breathless chuckle and apparent lack of effort, Mac carried Tristan in his arms as he navigated the stairs and made his way into the bedroom.
Falling Page 10