Witchy Boys: The Complete Collection

by Katey Hawthorne

  Another long, deep breath and I relaxed—all except my cock, but I had no control of it and didn't want to.

  He spat again, then grabbed me, slicking my erection with one hand. "There you go. I can see it in your abs when you finally relax. They stop quivering like a teenage virgin and go flat. Like you're offering yourself up on a silver platter."

  "Nothing about me is like a teenage virgin," I pointed out, then bit back a moan.

  He chuckled and jerked me slowly, changing his grip for maximum spit spreading. "Maybe not my best simile."

  "Pretty, though," I said through my teeth.

  "Shh, don't you worry, now." He pressed his cock to mine, took them both in his hand, and rubbed them together. At the same time, he shifted his hips, rubbing his balls and cock against mine. "The only compliment I need is you busting so hard you can't see. Gonna make a fuckin' mess outta you."

  Lightning-quick pleasure raced through my veins, starting everywhere but converging in my balls. I arched, inadvertently pulling at the restraints so the bed creaked. If I wanted, I could've broken free. We'd replaced that headboard after more than a few accidents. But the idea was to let the restraints remind me that I didn't have to fight. That when I was tired, I could give in. That when I was with Matt, I was free to rely on him.

  "God, you look good enough to eat." He rocked his hips in a counterpoint to the motion of his right hand, which kept working our cocks together. His left hand snuck around his back and under his ass, where he tickled my sac with a thumb. Just sitting there, beautiful and powerful, working as many of my hotspots as he could at once.

  Seir could never see him like this. No one could ever see him like this. No one but me.

  He worked us, his cock dripping sticky sex onto mine long before he was ready to come. When my dick threatened to shoot, he stopped and held himself, rubbing his wet cockhead against my length, teasing me, denying me until I was reduced to a whimpering mess. That golden fog focus had sharpened further, taken to the limit, reduced to my cock and his everything.

  "What you got for me?" he asked with a playful smirk.

  "Everything," I promised. Promised with all my heart. I never say anything I don't mean, not even when I'm trying to bust a nut. I was his. All his.

  I wished I was, anyhow.

  He smiled and grabbed us both up again, rubbing my orgasm out between his fingers and his hard, hot, dripping dick. I shuddered and pulled at my restraints—which reminded me to relax and let it flow, let the orgasm shake me, finish me, own me, leave me in breathless darkness.

  When I gave a little yelp at the end—too much stimulation—he let me go. His hand and belly were wet with my cum; he used it as lube to jerk himself off hard. Closed his eyes and shot all over me, string after string of hot sex, filling my navel, covering my abs, all the way up to my nips. Eyes heavy lidded, mouth open, sweat-shining, coppery skin flushing darker, redder.

  So much power in him. Did he even know how much? Did anyone know but me?

  The selfish part of me almost hoped not. He wouldn't believe me if I told him… and no one else was allowed.

  This was mine alone. The only thing in the world that was.

  ***

  This wasn't the deal, Seir said.

  No one could hear him but me, but since Matt was aware of the arrangement, he didn't think I was losing my mind when I replied, "You keep saying that, but you're still here."

  I could easily find someone to possess, he grumbled like low, distant thunder in my mind. Someone more pliable. Someone without that magical ink tattooed into your soul. Someone who'll let me torture my fellow demons and let me fight and fuck like a human.

  "I let you fight," I reminded him.

  And every time you fuck, your boy-toy sends me away. You never let me dominate him. Not even once. You can't tell me you don't want to see him helpless, at your command, begging you to—

  "What you're talking about isn't domination. What you're talking about is being a dick who enjoys hurting people to supplement his meager ego."

  Matt, who was driving us through Tennessee to our next job in Louisiana, sighed. "Let me guess. Seir's bitching about not being part of our sex life. Again."

  "He's getting more and more bitchy." I'd been thinking it for a month or two by then, but it was time to admit, "I don't think he's going to stick around much longer."

  Matt glanced at me, then refocused on the winding road. The last of the October colors still clung to trees like stubborn paint half-washed out of rags. It was beautiful country but hard to enjoy while talking about demons. He asked, "Do you want to let him stick around maybe? Just once?"

  "No," I said immediately. I'd die before I let Seir see Matt like that. Before I let him know just how powerful and perfect my man was. Christ knew what he'd want to do with it. "He can't get control, the tattoo will never let him—but he'd never forget if he saw what's inside you. I can't let it happen."

  "He wants to dom me, right?"

  I didn't like to tell him when Seir made those comments. It was all well and good when Seir led us to the next demon who needed kicked back to Hell, but that was all Matt needed to know. The more fucked up things, the psychological fuckery and analysis, the desire to hurt and control… I could and would protect him from that. Even just the sound of it.

  Still, I wouldn't lie, so I nodded.

  Matt made a face. "He does know you're way more submissive, right?"

  Oh, I know. But anyone who chooses a big, strong, tank of a man like you must have some idea of getting kicked around a little.

  "Fuck you," I said. That's not how it works.

  Matt snorted, knowing damn well I wasn't talking to him.

  Where are we going? Seir asked. Not to see that awful alchemist?

  Seir had never forgiven KK LeRoy for the ink on my chest that protected me from Demonic possession. I took pleasure in informing him, "Yep. To KK LeRoy's place."

  At least it's New Orleans. Always fun.

  I smirked. "Nope. She had to move her lab. Closer to Baton Rouge, now. Gonzales-ish."

  Seir sighed dramatically in my head. "He's excited to see her," I told Matt with a chuckle.

  Matt laughed. Then, slowly, his face went serious again as he watched the road. "Can you put on the necklace for a second?"

  Oh, now he wants road head, Seir said.

  I ignored him and put on Matt's charm. "What's up?"

  "Nothing. I just… wanted you to myself for a second." Matt shot me an apologetic look. "Remember when we were only worried about having sex in front of him?"

  My return smile was even more apologetic. "I know it's difficult, sharing me with him. But it's my job."

  "You hunted demons before you met Seir." There was no accusation in his voice, just quiet logic.

  It stung just as much. "But not as effectively."

  "But I'm here now." Matt had finally quit his consulting deal after six months working with me. Once he realized how much of a difference his style of magic could make in keeping the world safe from demonic invasions large and small, it made sense to go full time.

  And we wanted to be together. So we were.

  But so was Seir.

  "You can take it off," Matt said.

  "I'd rather leave it on for a few." Seir would throw a tantrum when he realized there had been no sex involved. Say I was changing the rules more and more every day. Say I was cheating.

  I didn't want Seir to leave. If he left, it'd take me way longer to discover infestations. People could be hurt. Killed. Taken.

  But I didn't want Matt to leave, either. And if that was selfish of me, well. I'd earned a few moments of selfishness, by my reckoning.

  ***

  With the well-deserved spoils of her alchemical mastery, KK LeRoy had purchased an old plantation from a white couple who'd tried and failed to make it into a wedding destination. She did this partly so that no other dumbass white person would take Louisiana's history of slavery and oppression and pull some Scarlet O'Hara ro
manticization bullshit like that again—not in her town. But she'd also turned it into a museum devoted to spiritual traditions of African-Americans. Its scope stretched from first West African slaves to today's Southern Baptist communities.

  As Matt pulled up the drive, I couldn't help but admire her work. There was an active archaeological dig happening on a half-wrecked outbuilding—probably old slave quarters—and the house itself was updated and beautiful. Not so much clinging to a vile antebellum past as reclaiming and renewing the land itself.

  KK came down the porch stairs to meet us, arms out. I made my introductions and she pinched Matt's cheeks first thing. He grinned, looking about ten years younger than he was, obviously accustomed to aunties and their ways. KK said, "You're looking good, Thackeray. But I don't know if you're good enough to stop this trouble."

  "What happened?" I asked. Might as well get down to business.

  "Some damn fool assistant tried to ask for help. Said he thought he was praying—said he didn't think a demon would answer. Of course they answer, that's how they get here."

  I grimaced. "You usually teach them better than that."

  "Don't start with me." She pointed and grimaced.

  "You got a name?" I asked. First order of business if it was already summoned: discover who the demon was.

  She shook her head. "Can't even get in the door."

  "Show us the lab," I said.

  Seir, who'd been sulking silently since I took off the medallion when we crossed into Louisiana, piped up at last. Oh, do show us, KK. So glad to see you, KK. Is there anything we can do for you, KK? His mental voice dripped with demonic vitriol.

  I knew damn well it was best to ignore him until he was done with this pouting foolishness.

  Less intelligently, I also ignored the concerned look Matt sent my way. He'd been doing that more and more lately. I'd have to ask him about it eventually. But for now… job to do. (Not that I was avoiding discussing feelings with my partner and lover. Just that, well. Urgent demon issues.)

  "Actually, why don't you do the initial exploration with Seir," Matt said. "I want to pick KK's brain for a few."

  KK smiled indulgently and patted his arm on her way past. "I'd like to get to know you, too."

  I watched them go for a moment, surprised and oddly let down. Then I shook it off—of course he wanted to talk to KK, she was the only alchemist in her own league in the entire country—and followed them around the house to another outbuilding, this one fully renovated.

  When KK was about ten yards away, something heavy bounced off the nearest window from the inside. The magically reinforced glass held, but the bang and clatter were massive.

  "Oh," Matt said. "That's… bad."

  Something else hit the window. Some dark blue, viscous liquid splattered all over, blocking our view of the interior.

  "Shit." I sighed. "Is that your ink?"

  KK slumped. "For sure is."

  That stuff took ages to brew up, not to mention buckets of pure power. It wasn't easy to imbue tattoo ink with holy protection.

  "Is your whole crop in there?" I asked.

  "Just got a few pots left inside. Gonna take me an age to replace what's been broken in there."

  "I'm sorry." I stepped in front of them and went straight for the front door. It buckled as something huge thudded against it. I never broke my beeline. "I got this. You guys go ahead. I'll report back and we'll make a plan, Matt."

  "Be careful, baby," Matt said.

  "Always."

  Be careful, baby, Seir echoed, taunting.

  I thought at him, since Matt wasn't around to loop in, There you are. Gonna help me figure out who this fucker is?

  Figure it out yourself.

  Still pouting, I thought back with a snort.

  You put on that goddamn necklace and then you didn't even fuck. I'm not helping you with shit.

  Fine. I kicked open the door and strode inside. A glass pot—empty now but stained with bright red ink—flew at my head. I stared it down and it veered off at the last minute, then smashed against the wall behind me.

  Seir might not want to help me this time, but just having him around me, near me, was help enough.

  I closed the door and started a systematic exploration with pots, vials, and various chemistry set types components flying at me at random intervals. The front of the lab had once held KK's stock, but now it was a shattered mess. Shelves were splintered, pots were shattered, and ink splotched the stone floor. A demonic hurricane if I'd ever seen one.

  The demon itself probably hadn't done this. Its legions would've been called on to do the shit work, dredged up from hell by their duke or prince or whatever and commanded to wreak havoc upon whomever had dared to summon him.

  "Show yourself," I whispered. No need for a spell just yet—maybe it wanted to go home. Maybe this would be simple.

  Probably not, but maybe.

  "Show yourself and I'll make this fast. You can get back to whatever it is you do in hell. Just like none of this ever happened."

  Part of a jagged shelf ripped off the wall and flew at me. It bounced off Seir's demonic aura and crashed to the ground.

  "I'll take that as a no," I mumbled, moving into the back. The building must've originally been for storage purposes, or maybe a converted stable. Now it was dark but high-ceilinged with a loft. Getting on the stepladder up would be an invitation to join this demon in hell, so no thanks. Instead, I moved beneath it, into the lab proper.

  One of the few burners still connected to the gas lit itself. The table on which it sat, strewn with spilled bottles and spoiled herbs, vibrated. What was left of KK's alchemical set hummed and clinked, copper and glass threatening to melt, to explode, to something.

  I whispered a spell under my breath, since Seir still didn't volunteer to help. When I finished with the Latin, I commanded the demon: "Show yourself."

  A glowing vision of beauty flickered before the quaking alchemistry set. A tall, noble soldier on a rearing griffin, a spear in his hand. He smiled at me, and my heart went cold.

  Almost certainly a duke or a prince of demons. That was a good place to start.

  I left the lab and shut it up tight, then headed for the house to find KK. Instead, I was met by a white boy wearing ugly Crocs and a guilty-as-Sunday-sin look.

  "You must be the apprentice who fucked this all up," I said by way of introduction.

  He nodded, red hair slipping into his eyes. "Kevin. You're Thackeray?"

  "That's right. So who'd you call?"

  "I don't know," he said, staring at his hideous shoes.

  "What did you ask for?"

  "I asked for knowledge."

  "Of what?"

  "Esoteric philosophy, space and time stuff."

  "And what did it say?"

  "It said…" He shifted his weight. "Fuck you, peasant."

  "Sounds about right. Don't leave the premises. I'll get back to you if I need more." I brushed past him and headed for KK's office, a large, sunny space at the back of the house. It was piled with books and papers and dried up ink pots, a comfortable and comforting place to work. Matt had digitized my entire demonological library some months ago, so I settled on a leather couch and browsed on my phone for the name that'd help me collar this demon.

  Some hours later, I'd found him. Murmur, a great duke of hell, known to impart philosophical knowledge as a favor.

  Finally, Seir spoke up. I could've told you that, but you don't deserve my help.

  Well, no point beating around the bush any more. I said out loud, "Are you going to leave?"

  I'll stay… if you crush that amulet your boy toy made you and swear on your soul never to use it again.

  "I can't. You know I can't."

  Remember what it used to be like? You let me live with you, experience, enjoy. I helped you find my brothers and sisters and banish them back to hell. It was a good life. A good deal.

  "All I'm denying you is the part of my life that has Matt in it."

/>   Matt is your life now. You're losing your way. Have you ever watched someone lose their way? It's fascinating. The way they cling and cry out that it's easy, that nothing's wrong, that they can do this. But you see inside them, you see their soul, and you watch it unravel like a shoddy sweater, row by row, line by line. A portrait of irresistible denial and fear. It's delicious, the anticipation of reaching out, grabbing the yarn and just… tugging. Gently. Mmm, the satisfaction of it all…

  "You're rambling," I said, although I knew he knew he was getting to me.

  Am I? Forgive my enthusiasm for your inevitable downfall. I can't resist your loose threads, Hermes.

  "Don't call me that."

  You haven't told him that's your name. You haven't told him anything that—

  Matt knows who I am. He knows why I do what I do.

  He knows I'm more important than he is. That's all he knows.

  All Seir did was lie, and I felt it deep in my bones. I'd ingrained that certain knowledge into myself the moment I agreed to the haunting. No, before then, even. It'd been ingrained in me since I was a child, when I'd seen that demon take over my mother and make her hold a knife to my throat. When I first set foot on this path.

  All demons lied. All the time. But they were very, very good at it. So good that even when I knew it was a lie, it could still hurt.

  And that one did.

  "I don't need you on this one anyhow," I said out loud.

  No, because KK called you. Somewhere, some child is stuck with a demonic possession, and you don't know about it because you're putting your dick first. Two years ago, you never would've done that.

  "This isn't about my dick," I mumbled.

  What? You love him? Now who's a liar?

  I wasn't. I did love Matt, even if I hadn't told him. I hoped he knew. I couldn't say it in front of Seir, and I didn't want to tell him when we fucked.

  "Go away," I said.

  Seir didn't reply.

  He never went away, not really. But if he went back to sulking for the night, that was fine with me.

  ***

  It was dark by the time Matt and KK reappeared in the kitchen. When I asked where they'd been, they gave me some vague story about an educational walk over the grounds and woods, talking about alchemy, protective magic, healing. Witchy things.