Draven rocked his hips, and Titus pushed his finger into the tight heat of Draven’s body. Draven let out a soft curse, then demanded, “More!”
“No lube,” Titus muttered, opening his eyes only to discover everything was blurry. He shuddered when Draven nibbled at his neck. “Fuck.”
Draven began sucking up a mark, and Titus grunted as he got his finger moving again, pushing in, slipping out, then in again to work it in a circle, stretching Draven’s rim.
“Yes,” Draven hissed before biting Titus just hard enough to sting in the way he loved. “Need more.”
Titus would have asked what Draven meant, but he was beyond words. Then Draven was pulling away.
“What—?” Titus began.
Draven pointed to the pier. “Getting a condom. Want you to fuck me under there.”
Titus blinked until he could see decently. “You want…?”
Draven nodded. “Where I first saw you, yes.”
Titus swallowed around a lump in his throat. That sounded romantic, caring—not like casual affair at all.
Still, he nodded and watched as Draven took a condom from his pocket along with a packet of lube. “Least they didn’t float off.”
“Yeah.”
Draven moved to the shallower water, and Titus followed. They both kicked their shorts up onto dry ground, then Draven grinned at him, looking so young and happy that Titus went dizzy.
Not because he was sick, or off balance.
But because he knew he’d done something really stupid.
He refused to think about it as Draven took his hand and placed the packets in it. “Come fuck me.” Draven sprinted through the shallow water, toward the pier.
“No thinking,” Titus whispered, then chased after Draven.
Draven was too quick to catch. Even when the water was knee-deep, he moved like he was a part of it.
Titus stumbled a time or two, but he wasn’t far behind Draven.
Draven stopped under the pier and planted his hands against one of the posts. The water was still knee-deep, and Titus glanced around to make sure no one was on the beach.
“We’re under the pier, in the shadows. No one will see us,” Draven said. “Fuck me, Titus.” He spread his legs and arched his back. “I need you in me, now.”
Titus closed the distance between them. “You’ll have me in you, but first—” He pressed Draven’s cheeks apart, one hand still clutching the supplies. “First, this.”
Draven looked back over his shoulder. “This what?” Then he sucked in a sharp breath as Titus licked a path down his crease. “Oh! No one ever… No one… I—” He made a choked sound when Titus lapped at his hole.
Titus was glad no one else had ever rimmed Draven. He wanted to be the first, the last—No, no, no!
Titus closed his eyes and laved Draven’s hole, loosening up the muscles and soaking them until they were slick, and he could slip his tongue inside.
Draven made another choked sound, then began to pant as Titus tongued him.
Titus pressed and squeezed Draven’s ass, licked down to his balls then back to his hole, giving Draven all he had. Every sound Draven made, every movement, the feel of his skin, the clench of his body, the taste and scent of him—it was all seared into Titus’ soul. He’d remember it, each second, for the rest of his life.
He tried to deny those thoughts, and ones like them, but they wouldn’t cease. Titus gave in and gave of himself, putting every bit of the emotions he wouldn’t speak into his actions.
When Draven begged him to fuck him, Titus gave Draven’s hole one last lick, then kissed his way up to Draven’s lower back. Titus opened the condom as he nibbled there, and with shaking he hands, managed to get the condom on.
“Hurry,” Draven mumbled, his hips moving as if Titus were already in him.
“I am.” Titus opened the lube packet. He slicked his cock, rubbed the remaining lube over Draven’s hole, then lined up his shaft with one hand. In the other, he gripped the empty packages—neither he nor Draven took kindly to littering in the ocean, and even the heavy weight of lust and need wouldn’t make Titus forget that.
He slowly pushed against Draven’s pucker. “You’re so tight.”
Draven grunted and startled Titus by pushing back, hard.
That made them both yelp.
“Draven, don’t—” hurt yourself. The rest of Titus’ words were drowned out by Draven’s demand that he keep going.
Titus wanted to ask if Draven was sure, but he wouldn’t have appreciated the second-guessing were he in Draven’s shoes. Titus slid both arms around Draven and thrust, probably gentler than Draven would have wanted, but he was just too tight to plow right into.
“Ungh, m-more,” Draven rasped. “Gimme more!”
Titus rested his head against Draven’s back and made small movements, penetrating deeper and deeper with each one.
Draven alternately cursed and squirmed, canting his hips.
Titus knew what it felt like to need to be fucked. He tightened his hold on Draven, and gave him more, sharper, quicker thrusts until he had his cock thoroughly buried in Draven’s ass.
Draven hissed and swiveled his hips, clenching and releasing around Titus’ cock.
“Holy— Don’t do that if you want this to last more than a few seconds,” Titus whispered. “You feel incredible. So tight.”
“Can’t handle it?” Draven clenched again. “Fuck me!”
Titus gave up trying to be noble. Draven knew what he wanted.
Titus let go of Draven long enough to grip his hips, then pulled almost all the way out before thrusting in again powerfully enough to drive a grunt out of Draven.
“Like that,” Draven said huskily. “Harder!”
Titus didn’t hold back. He withdrew most of the way then drove back in, harder and harder every time.
Draven cursed. He grunted. He whimpered and begged for more.
Titus grabbed his shoulders and gave it to him. He couldn’t pull back as much but he could slam in with increased force.
Draven keened and braced one forearm on the post. His other arm began moving as he jacked himself off. His ass gripped Titus’ cock tighter, and Titus’ balls drew up. He gritted his teeth and prayed that Draven came first.
And Draven did, throwing his head back and shouting, his entire body shaking. Titus’ control broke and he slammed in once, twice, then froze as his orgasm ripped through him, leaving chaos and bliss in its wake.
Titus was dimly aware of reaching down and making sure he didn’t lose the condom as Draven moved, then Draven was facing him, holding him, comforting him. Titus didn’t know why his heart hurt. It didn’t make sense, and as he leaned against Draven, he dashed tears from his eyes before Draven could see them.
Chapter Twelve
One night left
“Seriously, bro? You let him fuck you against a barnacle-covered post?”
Draven groaned and splashed Riveen. “Shut up, you pervert. Why were you even watching?”
Riveen had easily dodged the spray. He rolled his eyes at Draven. “Right, blame me when I was just out for a swim! You know that’s part of our territory. And you’ve been spending all your time with Titus, so I was maybe feeling sorry for myself and lonely.”
Guilt settled on Draven’s shoulders and pressed against his chest. “Riv, I’m sorry, but it’s only—for one more day.” Geez, his chest hurt. “You can’t blame me for wanting to spend all the time with him that I can.”
Riv sniffed and floated a few feet back. “I can, too. If I’d known you’d be too busy for me, maybe I wouldn’t have set you two up. Where is lover-boy today?”
Draven barely resisted the impulse to glance in the direction of Titus’ condo. He couldn’t see it from here, but it wasn’t far away. “He’s taking a nap.”
Riveen stopped floating and leered at him. “Oh-ho! You wore him out! Or, I mean, he wore you out, except that doesn’t work even though I saw him fucking you into the nasty beam.”
> “Riv, can you stop talking about that?” Draven shuddered. “It’s fucking disturbing.”
Riveen bobbed his head. “You’re telling me! I was just swimming along, stirring the sand here and there and chasing seaweed, then I saw—that.” Riveen shuddered. “Believe it or not, I didn’t hang around and keep watching. I think it’s only fair that I be allowed to give you shit for exposing me to such a brain-scarring sight.”
Draven looked up at the sky and sighed. “Fine. I’m sorry I scarred you for life. Now can we stop talking about it?”
Riveen grinned. “Definitely. So was that the first time you bottomed?”
“Riv,” Draven growled, ready to throttle him.
Riveen squealed, dove under water and shifted.
Draven hesitated for half a second—long enough to make sure no one was around—then he dove under the water and shifted as well.
Riveen was smaller and faster, but Draven’s wingspan was greater. He could catch Riveen in a race of distance, if not of speed.
The water caressed him, almost like a full-body massage as he swam. Draven relished the freedom he had in this form. Riveen dipped and spun around ahead of him, then made a wide turn and circled Draven.
Draven flipped over—he’d had Riveen nip him more than once.
Riveen zigged and zagged—
—and Draven, who had been so serious for so long, wanted suddenly to play.
What’ll it hurt? I’ve been caretaker for our kind for so long… Just a little fun. That’s all I want right now.
Like I want Titus.
But Draven wanted Titus for more than ‘right now’.
He shut off the threat of the depressing reality there, and instead flapped one wing at Riveen.
Riveen stilled, and his little eyes widened. His mouth moved and he sank to the bottom.
Draven would have laughed—he’d shocked his brother something good—but instead of laughing, Draven slapped the sandy bottom and sent up a cloud that obscured his view.
It also obscured Riveen’s, which Draven took advantage of, shooting off as fast as he could through the water.
Sunlight penetrated the warm sanctuary. It was beautiful, the water clear—except behind him—and the sun streaming bright through to the ocean floor.
A few jellyfish tried to keep up with him, but Draven was too fast for them. He zipped toward the pier.
He could feel Riveen coming up behind him, sense the change in the water and the pressure, hear his movements. Draven tried to swim faster, but Riveen shot past him and made sure to swat sand in his face.
It was fun. Draven felt years drop away, worries and fears eclipsed by a moment of joy, a memory in the making that he’d treasure forever.
He was going to lose Titus. He knew that. There was no way for them to remain together.
So he needed to remember this, too—the bright sun, the warm water, the happiness and freedom of his body slicing through the waves.
He’d need all the good memories he could store up, because, once Titus left, Draven knew he’d hurt and ache for the man.
Chapter Thirteen
Out of time
Titus dreamed of waves, of warm water and squishy sand, the brush of seaweed against his ankle, the salty tang in the air, the stroke of sunlight on his skin.
He didn’t want to wake up, didn’t want reality to pull him from that blissful world he was in.
Then reality became better than the dream as a warm, hard body pressed against him. Titus sighed and spread his legs, allowing Draven to settle between them.
Titus knew Draven’s scent, the feel of him, the weight of his body, the length of his cock.
That cock was aligned with his, slick and perfect. Some dim part of Titus’ brain wondered how Draven had been awake enough to think of lube, but Draven began sucking on that spot under Titus’ ear and thoughts ceased to be a thing.
All there was in the world then was feeling, sensations, skin on skin and bodies pressing together. Titus caressed every inch of Draven he could reach and opened his eyes to find Draven staring intently at him, not even blinking as he rubbed off with Titus.
Titus wrapped his legs around Draven’s and thrust up. Heat coiled in his groin. He could hardly draw in a breath when Draven’s cockhead caught the underside of his. Titus jolted and moaned, arching his neck, his back. “More,” he forced out past his dry lips. “Gimme more.”
Draven bit him, scraping his teeth over the spot he’d sucked on. Titus shivered. “Please, Draven, please!”
Draven nudged his lips. “Please what?”
Titus growled. “Fuck me!”
“Yes. Gonna fuck you so good you won’t be able to forget me.”
Titus tried to make sense of those words. He couldn’t, not when he already knew he’d never forget Draven.
Draven grabbed a package off the nightstand, ripped it open and rolled on the condom—all in a matter of seconds.
Titus clutched at his arm when Draven would have picked up the lube and shook his head. “Let me.”
“Jesus,” Draven muttered. He sat back on his heels after Titus let go of him.
Titus wasn’t prone to displaying himself like he was about to, but…but this is Draven. He can see all of me. I don’t want to hide. Titus snatched up the lube and flipped the cap. He coated two fingers and handed the bottle to Draven to deal with.
Titus raised his legs so his knees were almost touching his chest. He watched Draven’s gaze follow the movement of his hand as he reached down to rub his slick fingers over his hole.
“Fuck,” Draven rasped. “Put ’em in.”
“Not yet.” Titus teased his pucker, pressing, massaging, but not penetrating it. He played with one nipple and his vision clouded as pleasure built inside him. He started to press his fingers into his ass but stopped. He knew what he wanted.
“C’mere.” He held his hand out to Draven. “Let me slick you up.”
“You should—”
“I want you,” Titus said, making sure he spoke with a firm tone. “You, not my fingers. Just go slow at first.”
Draven nodded and scooted closer. Titus used the lube left on his fingers to coat Draven’s cock.
“Now.”
Draven hooked one arm under Titus’ left leg and lined his cock up to Titus’ hole. “You’ll tell me if it hurts.”
It wasn’t a question, but Titus still said, “Yes.”
Draven bent down to kiss him, a press of lips and melding of tongues that left Titus lightheaded. Draven raised his head an inch or so, his lips hovering just above Titus’. The press of Draven’s crown to Titus’ hole sent a shiver throughout Titus.
Titus gripped Draven’s shoulders and let his eyes roll back and close as Draven’s cockhead began to breach him. The burn was exquisite, and Titus wanted it, wanted to feel Draven’s presence there for as long as he could.
Draven’s breath hitched as the glans slipped in. “Titus,” he whispered.
Titus forced his eyes open, couldn’t look away while Draven slowly filled him.
When Draven bottomed out, he took another kiss, gentle at first. Titus clenched around him, working Draven’s cock with his internal walls. The kiss went from tender to rough, a crush of lips as Draven began to move, canting his hips before he slammed back in.
He dropped to his elbows and grabbed handfuls of Titus’ hair. Draven kissed Titus as fiercely as he fucked him, and Titus reveled in the mix of pleasure and pain, in knowing Draven’s control was as shot as his own. He curled his fingers against Draven’s biceps, let his nails scrape, wound his legs around Draven’s hips and prodded him with his heels.
Every time Draven withdrew, Titus jerked him in again. Draven growled and bit at his lips, fucking him harder and harder still.
Titus was on fire, and he wasn’t sure it was an orgasm he had to have. Something was growing in him, something huge and hungry and needy.
He tried to suppress it. Feelings like those weren’t allowed. His whimpers were as much
from pleasure as from fear that he’d say words he absolutely shouldn’t speak.
Draven powered into him faster, hammering his hips against Titus’ ass. Every time his abs rubbed over Titus’ dick, pleasure shot down to Titus’ balls.
Titus tried to keep his focus on that, on the physical pleasure, but the emotions he wanted to ignore raged inside him.
He turned his head aside and bit his wrist, trying desperately to stop himself from speaking.
Draven nipped his jaw, his ear, then rose enough to fist Titus’ shaft.
Titus screamed as his orgasm tore through him, demolishing words and breath and everything in stunning waves of bliss. He heard Draven call out his name, felt him stiffen, buck his hips.
Then he saw Draven clearly—the pleasure making his face glow as he climaxed.
And he saw something else, something in Draven’s gaze that looked like the unspoken words Titus had somehow held back.
But neither of them spoke those words. Theirs was a week-long fling.
It was too bad Titus’ heart refused to believe that.
Chapter Fourteen
Draven tossed down another shot of tequila then leaned his head back and stared up at the ceiling. It was starting to spin, which wasn’t a surprise. He had a low tolerance for alcohol, and, as exhausted as he was, that tolerance had to be almost non-existent.
He had a feeling that all the booze in the world wouldn’t help him do what he was trying to do. Oh, not forget Titus—he knew that wasn’t going to happen. But he’d hoped to take the edge off the sharp pain of loss that had remained with him since Titus had left.
“You must be shitfaced if you didn’t even hear me come in.”
Draven hadn’t heard Riveen, and he was too drunk and too tired to even be startled. He closed his eyes as the ceiling spun a little faster. “Whatever.” And either he slurred the word, or his hearing was messed up.
“Tequila?” Riveen snorted. “Gods, you really want to make yourself miserable, huh?”
“M’already misherable.” Yeah, his ears were screwed up. Or his tongue. “Thongue.”
In Deep Page 6
