Shifting Again

by Shifting Again (ant

  "But shifter anatomy--"

  "Isn't that different from a human's," Soren finished for him. He picked up Ryan's hand and brought it to his lips. "There's no doubt in my mind you can do it."

  Soren's faith in him was humbling. To Nuncio, Ryan said, "I'll think about it."

  "Fair enough. Why don't the two of you get some sleep? You've certainly earned it." Nuncio gave them a wink. "Be a shame to waste that big ol' bed."

  Soren waited until Nuncio was gone, then waggled his eyebrows at Ryan. "What do you say? Want to try it out?"

  "That sir," Ryan said as he looped his arms around Soren's neck, "is the best offer I've had all night."

  Long hours later, as the sun was starting to rise, Soren turned in Ryan's arms. "I think I forgot to say thank you."

  Ryan laughed. "For which part?"

  Soren lightly frogged his arm. "I'm not talking about the sex, though God knows it was good." He stroked a finger down the side of Ryan's face. "I was thanking you for saving my life, for trusting me enough to become my mate. I love you, Ryan."

  Ryan opened his mouth for Soren's kiss, enjoying the solid feel of the man he was to spend the rest of his life with. He loved Soren more than he'd ever thought possible, but even that kind of all-encompassing emotion didn't blind Ryan to the truth. Soren might think of Ryan as his savior, but the man had it all wrong. Ryan may have saved Soren's body, but Soren had done something far more important: he'd healed Ryan's soul and given him back his heart.

  who will know?

  by a. steele

  He watched the sun peak above the ocean. Watched the sky turn from violet to blush and finally, to shining Grecian gold. White vapor rose from the cool water, dancing in intricate patterns over the waves. It was another glorious dawn and even knowing what was to come, Prometheus found he could still appreciate the solemn beauty of the rising sun.

  He sighed and pulled himself up from his crouched position at the base of the boulder, stretching out stiff muscles. The Titan rolled his shoulders, flexing his chest and rippling the stacked muscle of his stomach. The heavy, honey light caressed his massive physique, sliding sensuously over smooth, nut-brown skin and dipping into sepia shadow at every sculptured curve. After one final flex, Prometheus turned his face expectantly up to the scudding clouds.

  If Prometheus has been a mortal man, his body would have looked like that of a blacksmith, or perhaps of an Olympic athlete. Perfect strength complimented by perfect form, but Prometheus wasn’t mortal; he was a Titan, blood of Cronus. He was a god, standing well above the mightiest of trees. His eyes were an inhuman, lightning-hued violet, and his body was entirely hairless except for fine arched brows, and an amethyst braid which trailed down his back to coil in the sand at his feet. It was because of this immortality that Zeus had chained him to this Hades-cursed rock, in the middle of the sea, in the middle of nowhere--utterly alone. A god who couldn’t be killed easily could, nevertheless, suffer. Suffer cruelly, and for eternity…

  He sighed again, a deep, melancholy exhalation. “Eternity…” he whispered.

  An eagle’s scream tore the morning air and Prometheus shuddered at the sound, his eyes scanning the sky while his breathing became labored and panicked. His clay-red cock lengthened and swelled, arching proudly over the tense muscles of his stomach. It was a learned response, this quickening of desire, and one he had no control over.

  There, coming in from the east. The looming shadow glided over the ocean swells, and an anguished moan rose in his throat.

  “Please, Zeus... please, let me die.” Prometheus prayed.

  As on every other day, there was no answer save for the swoosh of the giant eagle’s wings as it landed on the rock beside his shoulder. The bird looked at him quizzically, cocking its head to the side to regard him with one large, fiercely intelligent amber eye. If eagles could smile this one would be grinning from ear to ear.

  Prometheus had to look away as the bird shimmered and twisted before him, seeming to turn itself inside out. The sight had been fascinating the first time, strangely beautiful, but now it only served to remind him of the torment to come.

  “You ask for death daily, Titan, yet it never comes. Tell me, does the ritual satisfy some secret part of you? Is it a balm to your soul to have your captor ignore you day in and day out?”

  The deep, husky voice held a distinct note of laughter. An erotic fission traveled up Prometheus’ spine at the eagle’s words, despite the mockery. He so seldom spoke, this bird-man, and his voice was so rich, so satisfying. It had been such a long time since anyone had talked to him.

  “Answer me, love,” laughed the bird as he slid down the rock to land directly behind the Titan.

  Prometheus took a single step away, but then he was at the end of the chain, with nowhere left to go. The heavy, magical links cut cruelly into his ankle as his body refused to acknowledge the limitation.

  “Does asking for death make you feel more in control?”

  The eagle’s hands crept around his waist, sliding possessively over his stomach and up his chest.

  Prometheus squeezed his eyes shut and fought himself, keeping his hands balled into fists at his side.

  “No,” he whispered.

  “No?” laughed the bird-man. His mouth was against the sensitive skin of Prometheus’ neck and the burst of warm breath caused the Titan to tremble against him. “Then why do it?”

  Prometheus had just opened his mouth to answer when the eagle took his teeth to the same skin his breath had washed.

  “Oh, gods,” breathed Prometheus, his answer forgotten.

  The bird-man chuckled and bit down harder. Prometheus pushed back into the firm cock nestled against the crease of his ass. His breathing had resumed the frantic panting that had greeted the bird’s arrival.

  “Turn around, Titan.”

  “No,” moaned Prometheus.

  Talons raked across his nipples and Prometheus stifled a gasp at the painful pleasure.

  “Turn around.”

  With an air of surrender, he did. His pupils expanded as he once again beheld his tormentor.

  The eagle smirked at him and stepped back to let him look his fill. Prometheus’ gaze wandered from the tawny locks, drifting in long tendrils around the man’s face, to his amazing eyes. The bird’s eyes were the same incandescent yellow as his eagle form, and his face retained the cruel, predatory edge of the king of all birds. High cheekbones framed a sharp aquiline nose, the harsh masculinity somehow serving to accent the sensual fullness of his lips. White teeth flashed as he smiled at the pole-axed expression Prometheus wore. Every morning the same response, it was quite flattering.

  Unable to control himself, Prometheus’ gaze dropped lower. Broad shoulders led the eye downwards toward firm, square pectorals, and the tiniest brown nipples he had ever seen on a man. Smooth, alabaster skin graced the taut stomach and hips, melding almost perfectly into the snow white feathers at the man’s groin. Nothing in the world was softer then the down feathers surrounding that thick, magnificent prick. Prometheus knew this to be so. He’d had his nose buried in them more than once.

  The eagle smiled softly and crooked his finger at the dark-skinned god.

  Prometheus shut his eyes against the exquisite beauty of his tormentor.

  “Please, no more,” he begged.

  “Forever is what I promised, love,” whispered the bird-man as he stepped in closer to the miserable Titan. He wrapped his fist around Prometheus’ braid and tugged his head up. “Forever is what I plan to deliver.”

  Prometheus knew that the talking was over when the bird-man swooped in to capture his lips. He’d tried fighting before. It only delayed the inevitable and made the punishments that much more severe, so he simply opened his mouth, and accepted the thrust of the other man’s tongue.

  The bird-man moaned and angled his head to delve deeper into the Titan’s mouth. His hand pulled harder on Prometheus’ purple hair while his other hand wandered over his soft, velvet brown skin.
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  Prometheus grunted when sharp, long nailed fingers found the crack of his ass. That was the only response he allowed himself.

  “Kiss me back, you fool. You know you want to. Why fight it?” hissed the bird-man against Prometheus’ parted lips.

  Prometheus pulled his head back in shock. This was new. The eagle had never asked for his co-operation. First the uncharacteristic dialogue and now this, what had changed? He hesitated a moment before slowly wrapping his arms around the pale man’s shoulders and leaning back in to lick lazily at those amazing, full lips.

  “What’s your name, bird-man?” he asked softly, between languid swipes of his tongue.

  ***

  It was the eagle’s turn to be surprised. Doubt flared in his eyes. He had not been forbidden to tell the Titan his name, but he knew that hearing Prometheus say it, hearing him moan it, would make his job even harder. For years he had traveled to this rock to torment this stunning creature. The only rule was that the Titan could not come, not even once, not ever. At first it had been exciting. How thrilling it was to leave Prometheus night after night in erotic torment, while he himself was fully sated. How exciting it had been to make the giant go against every instinct of self-preservation he had, until the Titan was begging for his touch. Begging.

  “Tell me your name, bird-man, and today…I won’t fight you.”

  The eagle trembled as Prometheus bit at his lower lip. When had he started wanting the Titan to give himself freely to the pleasure? When had the insidious desire to watch that beautiful face twist in ecstasy as he was brought to orgasm again and again infiltrated the eagle’s psyche? He honestly didn’t know.

  “Tell me your name, and, for today, I’ll let myself touch you…” while Prometheus spoke, his palms drifted down the bird-man’s body, “and I’ll let myself enjoy it,” he murmured, lightly pinching the eagle’s tiny, pointed nipples.

  ‘Zeus, forgive me,’ thought the eagle, ‘it’s too much temptation.’

  “Antoc,” he groaned, pushing into the Titan’s hands. “It’s Antoc.”

  Prometheus smiled and pinched the nubs harder.

  “Antoc,” he purred, as, for the first time ever, he willingly plunged his tongue into the bird-man’s mouth.

  Antoc almost came at the pleasure of having Prometheus hungrily eating at his mouth while his thick, dark cock ground wantonly against his own rigid length.

  “Oh, gods,” he gasped, tearing his lips away, “slow down, Titan.”

  Prometheus threw back his head and laughed, probably startling himself as much as Antoc. There had certainly been nothing to laugh about since he’d been exiled to this gods-forsaken rock.

  “Slow down, eagle?” he chuckled, bringing his head forward to look warmly into the bird-man’s eyes. “Why? Are you worried you’re not going to be able to stay in control?”

  Antoc’s breath caught at the open, friendly look Prometheus was giving him. It was a look he had never expected to receive. His hands came up to frame the Titan’s handsome face.

  “Perhaps I am,” he admitted. His grip tightened and he tugged Prometheus’ head to the side, lowering his lips to the silken, brown column of his throat. Antoc suckled at the taut flesh, moving slowly upwards until he reached the lobe of Prometheus’ ear. True to his word, the Titan allowed the moans to fall uncensored from his lips. Antoc moaned with him, biting lustily at the small piece of flesh, until it had swollen to twice its normal size. He then traced the whorls of his lover’s ear, delving closer and closer to the center until he was flicking his tongue rapidly in and out of the sensitive hole.

  “Ahh, Antoc,” cried Prometheus. He crushed the eagle back against the stone, “You know it drives me crazy when you do that.”

  Antoc’s lips curved up. “You don’t say.”

  Prometheus narrowed his eyes and unwound Antoc’s arms from around his neck, bringing them down to his sides. He held the bird-man’s wrists tightly.

  “You’re not the only one with intimate knowledge, eagle,” he threatened playfully.

  The bird-man’s smile widened, but he didn’t say anything.

  Prometheus grinned with him for a moment and then sank to his knees.

  Antoc’s lids fell half-closed as he beheld the god kneeling before him. The Titan had never freely taken this position before, had never willingly placed his mouth on Antoc’s cock. The eagle was shaking with anticipation.

  Prometheus licked his lips suggestively before lowering his head--to Antoc’s hip.

  “You bloody tease!” groaned the eagle.

  Prometheus laughed as he nipped at the sharp ridge of bone. His mouth trailed over the pale skin of the bird-man’s stomach, alternating liquid swipes of his tongue with stinging love-bites. He paid special attention to the indent of Antoc’s navel, swirling his tongue eagerly into the shallow hollow.

  “Prometheus,” moaned Antoc. His hips churned, pushing his erection against the Titan’s body. His shoulder muscles bunched as he tested the hold Prometheus had on his wrists.

  Prometheus’ eyes rolled up to watch Antoc’s sexy undulations. His cock swelled impossibly harder at the potent sight, pre-come dripping steadily from its crown. He had always found Antoc extraordinarily attractive, his type exactly; a fact of which Zeus was, apparently, all too aware.

  “Spread your legs a little,” he commanded in a dark, husky voice.

  Antoc whimpered, closing his eyes and resting his head back against the sun warmed rock as he shifted his legs further apart.

  Prometheus’ mouth moved down the marble-smooth curve of the outside of Antoc’s right thigh. When he reached the knee he reversed direction, biting his way up the vulnerable inside until he reached the plump swell of the eagle’s balls. There he stopped, his mouth hovering a hand’s breadth above the prize. Antoc tried to thrust himself forward, that hot mouth was so blasted close, but Prometheus darted his head back like a snake. He blew gently on the tight sac, and again pulled back when Antoc tried to increase the contact.

  “Hades take you,” gasped the bird-man. His hands twisted around Prometheus’ and he started to haul him to his feet. Zeus had granted him strength far greater than the Titan’s. He’d had to for the punishment to be effective.

  “Don’t do that,” rumbled Prometheus. Antoc hesitated at the purring order and his eyes sought out the Titan’s. “Just beg me, bird-man,” continued Prometheus. He exhaled along the length of Antoc’s cock. “Surely you know how to beg, Antoc…you’ve certainly heard me do it enough.”

  The eagle bit his lips to stop the words from tumbling out.

  “A simple ‘please’ would do,” coaxed Prometheus as his tongue teased the air just above the shiny, purple crown.

  Antoc groaned again and shut his eyes in defeat.

  “Please…please,” he begged.

  Prometheus instantly took the weeping, plum head between his lips, sucking hard and lashing at the responsive underside with his agile tongue.

  “Mmm, yes, like that,” grunted Antoc as he pumped into the fabulous warmth of the Titan’s mouth.

  Prometheus swallowed convulsively as the eagle’s cock slid down his throat; his nose tickled by soft, white down. Antoc growled above him and thrust harder, the powerful milking quickly pushing him to the edge. When Antoc felt his cock swell to release, the Titan let the slick, wet cock slip out from between his lips.

  Antoc swore and ripped his wrists out of Prometheus’ grasp, grabbing the Titan’s tail of amethyst hair and jerking him to his feet.

  “Alright, godling, you’ve had your fun. It’s time to play the game my way.”

  Prometheus merely smiled and brought two of his own fingers to his mouth to suck and lick them as thoroughly as he had Antoc’s cock.

  Antoc watched with hungry, golden eyes, momentarily forgetting his anger.

  “But, Antoc,” said Prometheus, “I though you wanted me to enjoy myself.”

  Antoc’s gaze followed the now soaking wet fingers down into the slight space between their bodies. H
e groaned and clutched at Prometheus’ shoulder when he felt the slick digits circle the entrance to his virgin ass.

  “No,” he rasped, pushing the Titan back. He was always the taker, never the taken; it had to be that way.

  Prometheus allowed himself to be moved back slightly, but only far enough to comfortably lower his head to the eagle’s chest. There he took one hard nipple in his mouth, laving it in the same small, hypnotic circles that he was using to trace Antoc’s puckered hole.

  The bird-man was held almost paralyzed by the sensual assault. His talons dug reflexively into the Titan’s back. When Antoc hesitated, Prometheus carefully pushed one finger into the warm, tight orifice, using his teeth on the skin under his lips to distract Antoc from the momentary pain.