by Zakarrie C
“That doesn’t look very comfy…” Phin murmured, glancing down at Jake’s cock after throwing an excessive leg across his own. It sure as hell wasn’t; it looked about fit to burst.
Like an overcooked sausage. Phin fed me four, by the way…so you’d better not fuck this up. Or they might have unfortunate after effects. On your best rug…just sayin.
Would Jake ever be able to say ‘no’ to those eyes? To that face? It might have been carved from marble with the express purpose of driving Jake to distraction…and Jack wherever Phin wanted to go. Two lunatics at the steering wheel, careering wildly without a care in the world, as Jake sat cussing from the back seat, fists clenched white-knuckle tight.
There’d been a bit of banter between being lassoed by the leg and flinging himself at Phin—who was now flat on his back on the bed beneath him—but Jake couldn’t begin to recall it. Not while plastered across acres of silken flesh, cocks crushed together by the weight of his own body. A fact so deranging, Jake couldn’t even remember snatching up Phin’s wrists. Or pinning them to the pillow either side of his head.
“…So, tell me, what exactly have you been waiting to do?” Jake all-but growled.
“Anything. Everything. All of it. All of you.”
“Gnrh, you already have us…and you know it.”
“No…I don’t. Foxy p’raps…but not you.”
“He is me.” Jake groaned. Fuck. He’d never even admitted that to himself…or perhaps he had. Despite never accepting it, let alone owning it aloud.
“Jack…” Phin brushed his name—their name—across Jake’s lips. As if in affirmation.
Lust razed denial to dust, blazing through his veins as their mouths melted together and tongues entwined. The hunger was voracious, as naked as their need, untainted by the bitter tang of fear. Impossible to defer, let alone defy. They would never be able to deny Phin anything….and both knew it. They were tethered as tightly as if they’d been collared with a choke-chain and leash. Willingly.
Jake had sprung off Phin’s body and flipped him onto his front before he’d registered his own intent. Unperturbed to abruptly find himself with a face-full of pillow, Phin just chuckled. After hoisting his hips up, Jake swiped a lingering lick along the sensitive seam of skin behind Phin’s balls, luxuriating in their mingled scents; a cocktail so potent it dragged a groan from the very depths of Jake’s guts.
“Hmm…”
The gentle breeze of cool air he blew across damp skin sent a shiver rippling through Phin’s muscles and made his back bow, beckoning Jake on. When he slipped a finger inside, to ensure that…all was well, Phin was slick with his own come. A thought so erotic it was all he could do to repress a howl. Much to Jack’s frustration; having no recourse to voice the exhilaration coursing through their veins. Or express it with the degree of reverence it deserved.
“Jake…please…” Phin gasped, straining towards him.
“Okay. Just don’t forget to do remembering,” Jake warned. Pointlessly.
“Okay…”
Jake could almost hear him rolling those inimitable eyes. “Monster,” he snorted. A retort that triggered naught but the wiggle of Phin’s arse. As incorrigible as it was incendiary.
“Was that intended as a comment…or a hint?”
“My bum is doing multitasking, methinks.”
Jake spluttered, blasting Phin with such an explosion of spittle-peppered air it prompted a sound not far from a squeal.
“You’re lethal enough without a multitasking arse, thank you very much.”
“Hurry up then, daftie, so it can do concentrating on one thing.”
An excellent point, it must be admitted.
This admissions lark was getting horribly out of hand. Strewth, it was a bloody good job Jake wasn’t Catholic. Confession would sure as hell unleash the batshit in the belfry.
47. Phin
Phin was strung so tight, he could scarce contain himself; every sense was fizzing with expectation, his heart as full as his body felt hollow. Aching with anticipation, hunger clawing at his guts, a gnawing need sharpened by fear. Ratcheted to teeth shattering intensity by the agonising awareness of being gifted something too precious, too perfect to be meant for him. Something that would be snatched away long before Phin could bear it, let alone survive its loss.
It was far too late to turn tail and flee, it had been from the off. He’d been ensnared from the second he’d found himself beset by the quiver of wonder that shivered through his veins whenever he happened upon a new enchantment. He could feel it…the twinkly promise of a new passion shimmering on the horizon. Mr Neil called them obsessions, which sounded horribly like too much. Quite why he felt it necessary to point out such piffle, Phin knew not. It wasn’t a problem unless it looked likely to kill him off, but no one popped their clogs while reading too much poetry, did they? He could p’raps do eating too much doughnuts. If only in grammatical crime terms.
There was one distinct difference; his new passions tended to do shimmering into being…almost while Phin wasn’t paying attention. But this one had sprung forth all guns ablazin’ with a rootin’ tootin’ pizzazz snaffled from Calamity Jane. Phin would be slapping his thigh and sporting a jaunty bandana before the week was out, if matters progressed apace. As obsessions went, it was surely better for his welfare than insisting on cream-to-fawn hued food, so not even Mr Neil could have himself a grumble. It was a splendid way to burn off excess energy too…and scoffing a smidge too much shortbread.
Phin was partial to the new position he found himself in, which p’raps mirrored the mind’s eye imaginings that had installed themselves on a flicker-frame loop in his head. There was a mite more to it than that, though. Being on all fours in such a flagrant fashion felt more delicious than was seemly to admit. It felt divinely…decadent. In advance. Thus, Phin couldn’t help but do hoping that the (not a jot virtual) reality would whoop the ass of his darkest dreams. As turns of phrase went, that was a corker.
Jack gripped his hip with one hand and bent to press a kiss between his shoulder blades as he steadied himself between Phin’s thighs. He could scarce do holding still, so…pressing was the urge to slam back. The world ‘impale’ was possibly a tad unseemly, so Phin didn’t do thinking it.
“Aaaahh!” His head sure did snapping back when Jake barnstormed his body with a scorch of all-consuming fullness that snatched his breath away. Alongside Phin’s expectations, which hadn’t been excessive enough. A shock that should have sent his system into hypersomething-or-other, but it was too busy being blissy to care a stuff. Thisss… It was more…even than before, in the absence of the burn; which seemed a smidge strange when his bum had been through a fair bit more than customary of late. It would have been quite entitled to feel a mite miffy on the salt in the wound front (or backside) but nope. The scoundrel all-but offered Jake’s cock a glass of sherry and a mince pie, as if it was Santa come down the chimney.
Jake let rip with a rumbly roar that skittered up Phin’s spine when he plunged into his body. A sound so exhilarating—exhilarated—his whole self felt lit up like a Christmas tree. A toe-tingling life-force almost too much to contain. Phin was forced to do gritting his teeth and holding on, or he’d have gone off like a firework. On the 4th of November.
Remember, remember to do remembering. Pfft. There was no price too much to pay for this…
48. Jake
Jake dragged in a deep breath, anticipation glinting like light off a dagger blade. A feral growl shredded his throat when he flexed his hips to thrust hilt deep into Phin’s body. “Aaaahh…” Whose cry was pure pleasure, unclouded by pain. Only its absence was present in his scent. The bow of Phin’s spine was fluid, as if forged from the liquid fire flooding every fibre of Jake’s being.
“‘Kay?” He gasped, forcing himself to stillness, despite the screeching insistence of his own need and the clawing urgency of Jack’s. Or vice versa, Jake couldn’t tell. His entire self, too consumed by Phin to care. There was only Him, could only ever be h
im. A knowledge as irrevocable as it was bone-deep.
The scent shimmering off Phin’s skin was akin to inhaling flame. As intoxicating as it was life-giving. Jake’s nostrils flared in recognition of a truth he could no longer deny. Jack had never tried, of course, a fact Jake had been hell-bent on blanking. Intent on blissful ignorance. Jackals mate for life. Plural. Phin smelled of home and hearth, of flickering warmth on a bitter winter night. It was far too late now. It had been from the very first.
I hope you have. I’d like that…
Words as innocent as Phin, before Jake clutched him to his heart; he held both close and eased back before burying himself home…sweeter than cinnamon sticks on a roaring fire…home.
“Yesss…” Phin’s sigh caressed Jake’s ears as if he’d done the fondling thing. “Jack… Harder!” he demanded; clenching steel-jaw-trap tight. Jack whimpered, champing at the bloody bit, eyes ablaze like driftwood flame. All primal power, tethered by…time to come. Mine.
Grasping Phin’s waist, Jake ground himself deeper into blinding bliss. Seeking solace in oblivion. Shielding him from the knowledge scorched on his subconscious. Branded soul-deep. Heat everywhere, entwining them together, binding them fast.
“Jake…stop holding back…” Phin begged, squirming with insistence. Jake’s spine snapped forwards; subterranean-self-propelled, their gaze laser-sight bright. Trained like twin targets on the porcelain expanse of Phin’s back…like the budding points of wings, rather than the fate they’d doomed him too.
Doomed my arse. You can’t do deciding that for him—Phin didn’t need to—never does, he told you that from the off. Listen. Heed his words, even if mine count for fuck all. Count your lucky stars, rather than extinguishing their right to exist…
Ignobly less difficult to do when engulfed in ecstasy, drowning in too-much-never-enough of everything, to comprehend even half of it. Driven by sheer instinct, Jake gave himself up to the necessity of them; of here, now, this night. Senses reeling in a blur of sensation…yet each was distinct, sharply defined. Every tendon tugged taut, as finely tuned as harp strings. Muscles, a fluid glide of sinew over bone. His gaze still riveted to Phin’s back; a palette of ivory pearl, stained azure; an opalescent gleam of satin skin.
Never had Jake’s hearing seemed so keen; attuned to every ripple in the swirl of sound, the slap of skin, the sublime sigh of flesh as it slid to and fro, the soft cries flitting from Phin’s lips, every guttural groan wrenched from his own.
“Phin…” His breath shivered along the serrated sweep of Phin’s spine when Jake bent low, rolling his hips, holding him close. Glorying in the strong, sure pound of Phin’s heartbeat, pumping precious blood through his veins.
“Jake, please…do coming…” Curling his arm beneath him, he wrapped his hand around Phin’s cock and dragged his hips back. “Jaacck!” all but howled with triumph when they rattled off a few short sharp strokes that made their name claw the walls and their senses sing a song as ancient as time. Phin spilled through Jake’s fingers in a shuddering rush, trembling beneath him as Jake’s vision splintered, shattering in light-shot shards too intense for human eyes.
“Phin!” Jake hollered as he did coming. Excessively…as befitted its destination.
A mate worthy of no less...
49. Phin
“Phiinn!” The rasp of his name seemed to do tugging deep in Phin’s guts; somewhere so secret, sacred, he’d never felt a peep from it before. Sort of similar to the sizzling spot that had sent fireworks fizzing up his spine and made his head do exploding; except, this was a…bone-deep drag. Rather than a…button that did triggering consequences. Blimey, it was a good job Phin was too busy to botch that barmy explanation aloud. Whys ’n’ wherefores that mattered not a jot when Jake’s hips spasmed and he did coming. Lots of coming…filling Phin up, and his whole self with shimmery waves of warm wonder.
“Hmmm…” Phin sighed when Jake smudged a kiss—not between his shoulder blades as he had before—but to each one in turn. In a tender sort of way, as if he were doing kissing it better. There was nothing amiss though, so Phin had possibly lost his plotalot. The least surprising part of the day, it must be admitted and thus, not a jot perturbing. Jake’s lips felt like squishy satin cushions that sent sparkles across Phin’s skin like fuzzy static. “I’m lots more than okay, afore you do asking, Mr. Fussalot,” he informed Jake. So very okay, in fact, that Phin longed to do the jackal-with-jammy-whiskers sound Foxy—Jack—made while having his ears stroked.
“Mr Fussalot? I am cut to the quick,” Jake sniffed. “Might I remind you that I could shred you with my teeth if I felt a bit peckish?”
“I should p’raps do getting you some bones from the butchers for when you fancy a snack.”
“Thanks.” Jake’s chuckle skittered along Phin’s spine as he peeled their sticky skin apart, coshing it with a clutch of cold air in his stead.
After scrambling around to do stretching out on the bed, Phin lay, blinking against the glare of the floodlight lamp. Crikey…it was cruel. The duvet was not; the cool cotton felt luscious, so Phin did wriggling a bit, luxuriating in its coarse caress.
“Are you quite comfy?” Jake smirked, quirking an arch eyebrow.
“Yes, thank you…” Phin grinned, “…except for that bloomin’ lamp. It’s brutal…doesn’t it do burning your eyeballs? Mine are screaming and it’s not even orange. Just silver-sharp, like a strobe light. Is…Jack happy, Jake…?”
“It’s a bit bright, but I’m used to it, I guess,” Jake’s shrug was a tad…shifty, but Phin forgot to do mentioning that when he continued, “You know he is…”
“I wanted to hear you do saying it…I might have been hoping too hard.”
“He is too happy for his own good,” Jake sighed.
“What makes you think he’s too much happy?” Phin asked, turning onto his side, facing Jake. Who did staring down at the duvet as if waiting for it to do something interesting when he replied;
“Because…he doesn’t deserve to be.”
“Y’do.”
Jake snapped his head up to do spearing Phin with a blue that glistened like sunlit frost. “I was talking about Jack,” he growled.
“Exactly.” Phin’s smile felt upside down, even though it wasn’t. He could almost taste the tension seeping from Jake’s pores. It was tart…sort of salt ’n’ vinegary. “You smell like a bag of chips.”
“Chips!?” Jake snorted. “How the hell did you segue from salty quips to chips?”
“P’raps I’m hungry. I’m partial to a chip buttie.” Phin did hedging because he didn’t think Jake would fancy being told he smelled bitter. It was p’raps on par with telling someone their bum looked big in that.
“Hungry, you might well be…but you’re still fibbing.”
“How can I be doing fibbing if I am hungry?” Phin frowned, a bit befuddled. It sounded a tad tricky to tell a truthful lie. He had managed far fewer mishaps, but a fudge was not a fib.
“Because I can smell it,” Jake stated. Phin was willing to bet it didn’t do reeking of fish ’n’ chips.
“What is the smell of fibbing?” he wondered. Aloud.
“Er…tainted?” Jake decided before adding, “As if the wrong spice has been added…a pinch of paprika rather than say…cinnamon.”
“I could kill for an apple crumble, I’m starving,” Phin groaned when his guts did unleashing a loud grumble.
“I don’t doubt it.”
“I don’t whiff of fibbing?” Phin guessed.
“Not a jot. C’mon, let’s get you fed…” Jake did springing off the bed as if Phin would starve t’death if he didn’t shift himself sharpish. The scoundrel had shrugged on his bathrobe before Phin had even done scraping himself off the duvet. Dang. A spot of naked cheffing would’ve been the finest appetiser on Earth. Perhaps too much so, Phin fessed up (to himself) as he might forget to do remembering his rumbly belly.
Jake snagged a second robe from the hook on the back of the door and tossed it to
Phin, so he did shrugging it on to follow downstairs to the kitchen. When Jake flicked the switch, Phin couldn’t help but do wincing as the lights burst to life, like spear points of heat pinging off Phin’s skin.
“Oow! It’s too much!” He screwed his eyes tight shut and did cringing from the circle of overhead spots, but they were coshing him from all angles. Jake snapped them off sharpish and the scorch of scarlet faded to black behind Phin’s eyelids. “Thank you…sorry.”
“S’okay…you can open them again now.”
Phin felt the air shift, warming when Jack closed the distance between them. His husky sunshine scent seemed to do stroking Phin’s skin. Lust blazed through his body like a comet across the night sky, then a thud did crashing against Phin’s ears as a startled grunt vibrated through his body. The shaft of pain that shot down his spine was weird, when he was sure it wasn’t doing hurting.
