Celestial Seductions: The Complete Series: An MM Gay Paranormal Mpreg Romance Collection

by Odin Nightshade

  The forest had always been too...wild, too close and suffocatingly alive. Now it was the forest rising to confront him. Something sucked his left nipple while a slim silver birch-skinned being licked and lightly nibbled his neck. No one had done this to him before. He had let no one. The fear, the weight and pressure of someone too close had made it hard to breathe—too vulnerable. Now panic combined with all the other sensations until he was near to screaming and could not think.

  “My clothes. You took my clothes. Take them. I give them to you,” he cried, regretting as he said it. How will I get back to my apartment if I’m naked?

  “Silly mortal, silly morsel, it must be something that you cherish, something bold that you keep safe,” the mushroomy brown faery chortled.

  “Silence, Mushroom, and you too, Cobweb. We’ll have our fun in time, you’ll see. Mortal, you must give something that you value, you must give it of your free will. Only when it’s given readily and with joy then will you be free.”

  “But I have nothing else to give,” shrieked Corwyn. “I’m naked. You’ve no right!” Then he began screaming, “Help me, help. Somebody help!” More wordless screams till he sucked in air and heard the bracken laugh.

  “What right, by right what’s mine, and you have much to give and much to take,” Oberon laughed and walked toward him.

  “Wh-what are you going to do?” Corwyn feared the look in the faery king's eyes, a stare that spoke of hunger.

  “Until that time that you are free you belong to our world, and we will do as we please.”

  Oberon knelt between Corwyn’s legs. Root brown, reaching forward, leaning over to kiss Corwyn’s lips. He clenched his teeth; turned his head side to side until Oberon's long tendril of tongue forced itself between his lips. Expecting coolness like the kisses of the bracken brethren, Corwyn opened involuntarily at the warmth. The faery king left his reluctant mouth and ran a tongue-wet trail over his chest, around the puckering nipples and on to his navel. Corwyn’s body sweated with little to do with heat.

  Revolted, he tried to close his legs, remembering again the restraining bonds. He was vulnerable, unable to move, his body on display to these alien creatures. Oberon stopped at his navel while his wildfolk touched Corwyn all over his limbs. “A pleasure denied is a self-made hell. Though your soul rejects I’ll wager your body will know by and by this pleasure well.”

  The lush verdant head dipped down to his navel again, antlers lying firm and dangerous across his belly. The faery king's tongue trailed fire across his shuddering skin, then looped down into Corwyn’s dark pubic curls, slithered to the base of his cock, which jumped from the sensations, betraying him as it began to stiffen.

  “Please,” he whimpered and hated instantly his weakness. “Don’t.” Desperately, he searched the narrow avenues of his thoughts. Through gritted teeth he finally let out, “Okay, look. I’ll give you my body. My—my...virginity. Okay? Take it.”

  His gaze met Oberon's. The king looked up from between Corwyn’s legs and smiled once at him with a knowing smile, then glanced to his companions. They twittered, capered about until Corwyn felt dizzy with their movements, as if the world had begun to heave and shift.

  Corwyn tensed for the repulsive process, afraid more than he could voice. No one had ever touched him. No way to hurt him then, or control him. Now Oberon's tongue trailed over his cock, swirling around it as if it were an ice cream cone and as his cool tongue tip licked down Corwyn’s balls he could not help gasping. For all Oberon's tongue had at first seemed hot it now sent shivering waves of coldness into Corwyn. Waves so cold they froze him to shocking awareness, every nerve vibrating. The tongue burrowed and roved over every fleshy whorl, then circled and flicked across the bulbous tip so sensitive Corwyn cried in agony at the cold. As sudden as a storm Oberon clamped those thick lips around Corwyn’s cock. The flood of heat melted him and threw cascading spasms of sensation through his body. Oberon sucked in his cock to the base and he involuntarily cried out.

  At that moment he disappeared, nothing but a body of feeling and sensation carried away against his will into passion he had never known, passion that indeed scared him mindless and exploder in waves of dark pleasure. He moved away and let his body accept.

  A time, a space. Shadows and a thousand shades of green focused into a canvas above him. Water trickled into his mouth. He swallowed liquid, glacial fresh and noticed mossy hands cupped and pouring over him. No dream, nor nightmare, then. All was real. Dizzy for all he was staked down, he lifted his head and focused, found Oberon lounging to his right, being fed flower blossoms by his minions.

  “C—can I go now? I gave you something precious. It’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?”

  Oberon motioned and little scratchy hands loosened Corwyn's bonds. “You may refresh yourself, make the blood to flow but truly you are not yet ready to leave. Have you given what you hold safe, indeed given in with any joy? Not yet then are you ready to go, or have even learned who it is you must please.”

  Corwyn bolted, dashing madly through trees, fighting leaves and bushes out of his way, leaping logs and moving without looking back. Branches smacked his bare flesh, scratched at him. He ran till his sides ached and his breath burned his lungs. Brown, blacks, muddy green, smudged slashes of red and orange flashed by until he nearly ran into a tree and grasped it to keep from slipping to the forest floor. Rough, warm, a skin no less, he let go, afraid of any flesh, and hunkered on the leaf-strewn ground. He was lost, there were no trails, no signs of people, nothing with which to wind him out of heavy undergrowth.

  All around, a closing circle he heard the twittering chitters, and whispery laughs of Oberon's minions who seemed to pop up out of rooted tree and hole. There would be no escape, he knew now, until they were ready to let him go. They could lead him in circles forever, and maybe would.

  A snap, like a great elastic breaking, Corwyn looked around, trying to locate the sound. The faery folk looked back at him but the sound he realized had come from within. He knew there was no escape, no way to fool them.

  The ground cushioned as Corwyn flopped onto it and onto his side and curled up, ignoring the faeries, staring resignedly at the trees and catching his breath.

  Corwyn closed his eyes, little caring anymore what fates they devised for him. He listened to the words as he drifted into sleep.

  *

  The waking was not yet in his flesh and less so in his mind, but a wakening happened reluctantly. There was the warmth of something furry and sleek, warm against his buttocks and thighs. A heat that snaked between his legs and rose to melt his heart and set his blood pounding to a waking beat. A yearning grew in the pit of his belly, a need to feel fulfilled, to be filled.

  Corwyn woke enough to feel Oberon’s warm brown hands gently kneading his butt cheeks. A giving in, he remembered, no longer in his control. He lay there and let Oberon roam his body and felt the hard fleshy shaft move between his legs and nose at his opening. He shuddered, feeling like a flower opening up against to the sunlight’s prying fingers. Melting in repose of soft nature’s touch. But was it really against his will? No, he had surrendered. There was a meshing of his will with flesh, a vibration that set an earthquake of sensation in motion. He moved his hips, pushing back, feeling the heat of Oberon's body along his back, wrapping him.

  Oberon’s root, was all he could think, and felt the firm knob push into his tight ass. Slowly he slid into Corwyn, just a bit, and stopped. It was slightly uncomfortable, a sharp stretching but Corwyn's need blotted out any pain. His heart pounded on the door of his chest, begging for release. Corwyn drew in a shuddering breath. Oberon pushed a bit deeper and rested inside, just inside and slid out, then in again, pushing deeper. Corwyn pushed his hips back and moaned, “Please.”

  “Please, what?” rumbled Oberon as his hands firmly grasped Corwyn's hips.

  Then he pushed in all the way until his great heavy balls rested against Corwyn's butt. Against his will, Corwyn cried out, “Yes, yes, release me,”
which only seemed to increase Oberon’s intensity. He growled and bit down on Corwyn's neck, his fangs going deep and drawing blood. Corwyn whimpered, driven to a frenzy of pain and all-consuming pleasure. Oberon seemed to know how to push past Corwyn's barrier that held back the raging fire, the one he had walled away in fear of its power. As it gave, Corwyn groaned, “Yes,” and gave himself completely to the feeling.

  This time he was aware of the sensations flowing through his body and also in his mind. He stayed conscious and felt the deep thrust of Oberon beating at the flames he held. He pushed back onto him, wanting more as fire consumed him with a heat too much to bear. The faery king quickened his pumping, timed with Corwyn's heartbeat, thrusting deeply into him. Corwyn's cock grew hard, so hard that it was like a rod of fire. Oberon pumped back and forth, growling until Corwyn cried out, his cock spraying cum onto the moss. A flash fire that burnt away everything and Oberon’s quenching pulse simultaneously spread a warmth and coolness through Corwyn, filling him so completely that for the first time in his life he felt whole, completely filled. Why had he resisted for so long?

  Oberon groaned and sighed. Eventually, after lying quietly, he withdrew, kissed Corwyn and stood up. “A most fitting gift indeed. I remember again the attraction with these mortals.”

  Corwyn realized the faery beings had watched the whole thing as he rolled onto his back. He flushed. Little tongues lapped his sweaty skin and between his cheeks. He relished the sensation, resisting nothing as Oberon laughed and stood above him. “Your virginity you gave and we have taken it gladly, yet I think there is more to give if you are brave.”

  He knew he would do anything for Oberon. “Anything. I am yours now.”

  Oberon smiled and helped him stand. Corwyn kissed Oberon, no longer thinking of escape. What had been his fear? He no longer knew or knew if he cared.

  “And now,” Oberon's gaze searched deeply in Corwyn’s own eyes, “you are free to go.”

  “But,” Corwyn found words suddenly hard to form in the hazy land of pleasure where his mind was lingering. “But, I thought you said I hadn’t given the right thing or with joy—” He broke off confused.

  “Now you have given freely and with joy. Whether you know it or not you do now know who to please. Leave us now, return to your world. You will find much more to learn and still to explore. We might yet meet again, amongst these trees.”

  Oberon stood at the edge of a stand of oaks, watching and smiling. Capering, dancing, chattering wild creatures swirled about him like wind-blown leaves. Oberon kissed Corwyn again and went to join his queen. He smiled back once, then turned and disappeared into the leaves and shadows.

  Not sure he was connected yet as body and mind, Corwyn stood and looked around. Emerald and chartreuse and hunter green played riot in his vision. Trees swayed gently dancing to a breeze, and bright ruby and sky blue flowers winked their colors among the leaves. Corwyn began to walk away, not choosing any direction, when he remembered his clothes. He turned back and there they were, folded on the ground.

  In a daze, he pulled on underwear and shorts and began walking out of the woods. A dream? No, he still felt the dampness of Oberon's cum, and knew his virginity was of the past. A dream nonetheless. A dream come true though he had not known he had ever wished it.

  Soon a path opened before him, winding prettily through waving branches and calm steady flowers. It led to a wider path and onto the main trail out of the park. As Corwyn walked on he tried to figure out what had really persuaded the faery folk to let him go.

  When he had given his body they had taken it but said it wasn’t enough. Something about not knowing yet who to please. Out of the wild wood and into tamed civilization, Corwyn strolled, heading home but not fearing what he’d left behind. It dawned on him that he had feared the woods for their wildness and the unknown when in the end it was what was inside him that had been his greatest fear. With that thought she knew it was the giving of his self, not to Oberon but in fact to himself that he had had to do to be free.

  Pleased, he knew he could call Adam, work on the scenes and in truth be Oberon.

  #

  He apologized to Adam, saying. “Look, I've...it's, well I hadn't ever been with anyone. I was afraid.” Adam stood before him, arms crossed and a pissed off look on his face.

  He knew he hadn't dreamt the encounter with Oberon because his neck itched where the bite was. It was healing but looked a bit inflamed. He would have had it checked but what kind of germs did faery folk have anyway?

  “I'm sorry, okay. Can we just start again, rehearse our lines?”

  “Fine, but don't be such a stuck-up ass next time.” Adam grinned as he said it, so Corwyn understood he was forgiven.

  They rehearsed for an hour, then took a walk in the park nearby, far more tame than where Corwyn's encounter took place. Still, it was as if his senses were heightened. He thought he heard the rustle of birds, rabbits and mice moving about in the bushes. His skin tingled as the sun went down. The moon was only a crescent but it seemed to invigorate him.

  Adam was talking as they walked toward some bushy trees. “When I was in high school, we used to come here all the time, tuck in behind the trees so no one could see us. We'd smoke, hang out and feel we were in our own world.”

  He parted some leaves and they entered a shadowy oval. A week ago and Corwyn would have been antsy. Now his heart quickened with anticipation. As Adam turned back to him, Corwyn leaned in and kissed him, shyly, quickly.

  “I'm sorry,” he said, flushing from his boldness.

  Adam's brows went up, then he grinned slowly. “Don't be.” His hand went to the back of Corwyn's head and he drew him forward, tangling his fingers in his curls. Adam kissed him, slowly prying Corwyn's lips apart with the firm probing of his tongue.

  Corwyn gasped and nearly dropped. Oberon had not kissed him like that. His cock twitched as Adam pushed him up against the tree and thrust is tongue deep into Corwyn's mouth. His other hand held onto Corwyn's, pinning him tight.

  Then Adam ground his crotch against Corwyn's and Corwyn groaned into his mouth.

  Adam grabbed both of Corwyn's wrists and pinned them above his head. “You like that, don't you?” With his other hand, he unbuttoned Corwyn's shirt and ran his tongue down Corwyn's neck over his nipples and to his belly.

  Corwyn wriggled loose and pulled off his shirt, then his shorts. He knelt in front of Adam and shyly looked up as he unzipped the blonde's pants. Adam's cock, thick and pink, pulled loose, bobbing in the cool evening air. Corwyn remembered how Oberon had tongued his cock and set to work tentatively licking along the ridged fleshy shaft, cupping Adam's balls in one hand. He breathed in, smelling the salty musk of him and wondered what Oberon was doing.

  Corwyn's cock grew hard as he drew Adam into his mouth, slathering the tip with saliva.

  “Enough,” Adam said, stopping him by pushing his head back and helping him to stand. Adam turned him toward the tree and nibbled is neck and ear, reaching around and stroking his cock.

  “Do you want me?” Adam breathed into his ear.

  “Yes,” Corwyn whispered. “Take me.” He pushed his butt against Adam.

  Adam bent over and pulled out a condom, and fumbled it on while using one hand to keep Corwyn pressed to the tree. “I should punish you for being such a bitch to me,” Adam murmured as he pushed his cock between Corwyn's cheeks. “But I think you're a good little Omega and will take anything handed to you, won't you?”

  Corwyn's only answer was to push his butt farther out and rock it, swimming in the sensation of Adam's cock nosing closer to his butthole.

  Adam pushed up and in, burying himself all at once in Corwyn's ass. Corwyn hissed at the sudden intrusion, feeling his balls tighten and his cock throb in response. He groaned, his face pressed into the bark of the tree. Part of him wanted to howl, but he swam in the pleasurable thrill running through him, laced lightly with pain.

  Corwyn's senses flooded with the ripe heaviness of bark and astringen
t moss and the smoky release of his jism as he came. Adam groaned loudly, giving short sharp thrusts as his cock swelled and released in Corwyn's ass. Corwyn held onto the tree to keep from dropping to the ground.

  Adam withdrew and turned him around, kissing him deeply. “I think our rehearsals are going to go very well.”

  #

  Opening night was a few days away. The play would finish at ten, just as the sunset. Between Adam's administrations and rehearsing, Corwyn had not made it out to the woods. He yearned to go, wondered if he would ever see Oberon again. But then knew that a faery encounter was not a relationship. And Adam was teaching him a lot.

  His one worry was the bite mark. It had been nearly three weeks and the indents on his neck, where Oberon had bit him, were still red. He itched too, but not as if he had a rash. This was a prickling under his skin as if he had too much energy, and it made him pace. He decided that after opening night he would go into the woods, if for nothing more than to give silent thanks for Oberon's assistance.

  The play opened in the park and Corwyn did well. He would never be the greatest Oberon ever for that was the king of faery's domain. But the audience was pleased. Adam looked for him in the crowd after the curtain closed but Corwyn couldn't stay still. The itching was deep in him and he had to get out, get some air. Too many bodies and the lights too bright. Stuffy.

  He made it outside as the moon, pregnant with silvery light, crested the trees. Corwyn felt as if he was going mad. The horizon dipped and tilted. Trees looked as if they were falling and Corwyn dizzily undid his shirt. More air. He stumbled toward the trees as prickling started first in his armpits and crotch, then spread. Maybe he had touched poison ivy. He pulled off his shirt, checking in the moonlight. Then the bite on his neck grew hot, as if it were suddenly inflamed. Corwyn spun in a circle, not sure what to do, wanting to run, to scratch, to scream.

  The world tilted again, spinning on him so that he knelt down before he fell. His hands braced him on the ground, digging into the moist earthy, hanging on. As he tried to focus on his hands it looked like hairs were erupting, his nails lengthening. A terrible stretching and pulling coursed along his limbs. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, bring his vision into focus. But the world twisted some more, the pain growing deep and he howled.