by Kayleigh Sky
Isaac scowled as though every one of Rune’s thoughts passed through his brain too. “I want to see you.”
“Just see me?”
Isaac’s throat rumbled, and Rune grinned. “Is that a growl?”
“My bark is worse.”
Rune laughed and rolled off him. He swung his legs to the floor and unlaced his boots. Isaac scrambled up and darted through a door across the room. A light flipped on, but Rune didn’t look back. He kicked off his boots and pulled his shirt over his head.
“Those are beautiful.”
He glanced back. Isaac stood in the door with a small bottle in his hand, his gaze fixed on something behind Rune. It took him a moment to realize it was his back. His skin twitched at the thought of what was there. He had no reason to think about it. He’d gotten the tattoos seventeen years earlier. “The Letters of the Revelatory Passion.”
Isaac sat on the bed behind him, close enough Rune itched at the heat and trace energy buzzing inside him. Sparking at Isaac’s aura. It pulled at him, unnerving him. It was a power he shoved into the darkest place inside him, terrified at its ferocity, never sure he could hold onto it when it got loose. He gritted his teeth at Isaac’s touch, shivering at the brush of his finger along one of the letters. There were only seven but inked into his skin multiple times to create a design that looked like a mind map.
“What do they mean?”
“All the families have one. They’re symbols that represent important messages and lessons we need to remember in order to redeem ourselves.”
“Redeem yourselves from what?”
“The fall. Lucifer’s fall.”
Isaac reared back a little. “You know that’s weird?”
“I take it you’re not a believer?”
Isaac shrugged and twisted his lips. “I believe in being nice to people.”
Rune swallowed a strange stab of pain. “I wish it were that easy.”
“It is. People just complicate it.”
The pain disappeared with his laugh. “A little.”
Isaac leaned in and kissed between his shoulder blades, his mop of curly hair tickling Rune’s skin. “Can I see you naked?”
“Bold much?”
“Is that bad?”
Rune twisted, slipped his arm around Isaac’s waist, and pulled him closer. “It’s perfect. Like you.”
His words got him a snort.
“That’s romantic.”
“I got it from Jessa,” he quipped.
Isaac grinned. “Come on. Strip.”
He stood, turned, and shucked his jeans, the last thing he had on. His half-hard dick jumped when Isaac licked his lips. “Okay?” he murmured.
Isaac swallowed, his Adam’s apple, visible in the light from the bathroom, bobbing. “You’re really beautiful.” He got up. “I’m gonna just… gonna turn off the light.”
Rune caught his arm before he turned. “Hey. Don’t do that.”
Isaac grimaced, his face darkening. Blushing? His gaze skirted sideways, then darted back, and flicked Rune up and down. “Oh my god, you look so good. I mean… Really good,” Isaac finished on a whisper.
Rune sighed. “Isaac. This means nothing to us.”
“Well, duh. You’re all beautiful.”
“You are beautiful.”
“My face is okay.”
“You steal my breath.”
“I’m…” He inhaled and exhaled. “Well, some people say I’m skinny. I didn’t think so, but…” He chewed on his lip as he raked Rune’s body with his stare again. “Maybe.”
“I don’t care.”
Of all the dimwitted things to be talking about half hard. Isaac’s voice might as well be Jessa’s. My nose is too thin. I have a bump on it. My lips look funny. Wen just feels sorry for me…
It was a human thing, Rune guessed. The ridiculous obsession with things that didn’t matter. At least they didn’t matter to Rune. To him, Isaac’s beauty rivaled the most delicate glass. “I want to sketch you. Turn you into a statue I can put in our entrance hall. I know the perfect place.” He laid his hands on Isaac’s shoulders and formed his palms to the bones underneath. “I love the barely-there curves to your angles. Like secrets waiting for a chisel.”
Isaac’s lips parted, eyes glazing. “Um… Okay.”
Rune lifted Isaac’s chin with the tips of his fingers and kissed him on the mouth. “I want to see you too.”
Isaac nodded and dropped the bottle onto the bed then grabbed his shirt and pulled it off. Rune squeezed his dick. A grin threatened to split his face, but he’d be damned if he’d let Isaac see it and think the wrong thing. He fought not to run his hands over him, memorizing the dips and shallow striations. He looked like white rock cut where rivulets of water had dug into his muscles. Worn and spare. But he wasn’t skinny. Those muscle stretched tight over his bones and formed the delicate curves Rune had stroked under his shirt. His pink nipples shrank into tight buds. Sparse, dark hairs grew over the swell of his pectorals. A thin, delectable trail vanished into his jeans.
“Off,” Rune growled.
Isaac kicked out of his shoes, unbuttoned his jeans, and… shimmied, for fuck’s sake. Did he know what he was doing?
Rune bit back a painful groan.
Narrow tendons and delicate veins laced Isaac’s pelvis. A fat, pink cock sprang from a patch of dark, curly hair. Heavy, rosy balls hung underneath. Rune’s mouth watered. Isaac stepped out of his jeans, stumbled, and kicked them sideways. His legs were coltish and limber, and Rune ached to feel them wrap around his waist and crush the air out of him.
“I’m dreaming.”
Isaac’s mouth curved in a half smile. “Now I know where Jessa gets it.”
Rune shook his head. “I’m not romantic.” But he wanted to drown the kid in roses. Sketch him in every position.
He stroked the underside of Isaac’s cock, a whisper of a caress along the silken skin that brought him hissing to his toes. Slickness dribbled over his fingers. Isaac squeezed his waist. Bending down, he ran his tongue along the salty, sweat-slick protrusion of collarbone. Isaac’s flavor bloomed in his mouth like wild herbs.
He gripped Isaac’s shoulders and followed the curve upward until he slid his fingers into Isaac’s hair. He couldn’t get enough of those crazy curls. In the car, when Isaac had gotten too hot, they’d stuck to his skin in glossy ringlets. Now Rune ran his fingers through them, pulling them straight, smiling as they bounced back. He stared into his eyes. He was the intense and wiry manifestation of all Rune’s fantasies.
He stepped closer, moving them toward the bed. Isaac’s lips twisted in a wry smile. “Pushy much?”
“I resisted,” he murmured.
They tumbled backward. He had resisted, but something had happened to that resistance. It had lost itself in the mercurial mystery that was Isaac. He had to know him, discover him. Map him. Isaac bounced on the mattress, and Rune let his weight fall on his elbows.
A giggle spilled from Isaac’s lips. “Kiss me.”
“Your command,” Rune whispered.
He drank Isaac’s taste, played with his tongue, and let his hands roam over Isaac’s ribs. His skin was soft, his bones like marble, hard and smooth. Isaac gripped his ass and thrust against him, cock sliding against his, setting off fireworks in Rune’s head. Oh fuck.
He groaned and sucked hard on Isaac’s tongue before breaking the kiss and moving down. His tongue left a slick trail on Isaac’s quivering belly. He followed the curve of a rib to a bony hip and tickled the soft skin until Isaac dug a fist into his hair. A shudder racked him, sharp as a temblor. He spread his legs and arched up. Rune chuckled and blew on his damp skin.
“Goddamnit,” Isaac whined. “Fuck me.”
Rune blew another long trail along his wet skin. “Eventually.”
“You’re cruel.”
“You have no idea.”
After another lap of salty skin, he shifted his attention to the pink, leaking prize straining against Isaac’s belly.
His cock was two-toned, the bottom half a lighter pink than the flushed top half. It stayed one width all the way to the flared head with a web of thin veins snaking under the skin. Rune embarked on his exploration of the veins, running his tongue along each one, ignoring Isaac’s whiny sighs. He flicked the head with the tip of his tongue then followed the demarcation between the color change.
“Bodies are beautiful.”
“I… can’t… talk,” Isaac gasped.
Rune smiled. “Now I can’t either.” With that, he sucked the tip of Isaac’s cock into his mouth. The seeping, salty fluid coated his tongue, the cock jumped, and a fist yanked on his hair.
“Holy… fuck.”
What a gorgeous cock this was. He squeezed the bottom half in his fist and played with the tip. Rolling it in his mouth. Poking at the slit. With one hand on Isaac’s hip, he pressed him into the mattress and stroked his tongue down Isaac’s length. The hot flesh pulsed, and Isaac pulled his hair again. The pain, like tiny needles, didn’t bother him the way it might a human, and he ignored it, teasing Isaac with every suck and nip and lap. Isaac vibrated, his thighs as rigid as piano strings, “Fuck… fuck… fuck…” spilling from his mouth.
Rune pulled up, cheeks hollowed, and popped off. After half rising off the bed, Isaac fell back again with a gasp. “Gimme a minute. Gimme… a minute. Then my turn.”
His dick stood in the air, rosy red and shiny.
Rune fingered his balls, and Isaac yelped. “Geez, what are you doing to me?”
“Playing.”
“Well, it’s my turn,” Isaac griped, pushing Rune’s hand away.
With a chuckle, Rune flopped onto his back, folded his arms under his head, and closed his eyes. “Wake me when you’re ready.”
“Jerk.”
“Hm,” he murmured.
A feather-light touch drew him back from somewhere. Had he been asleep? His eyes refused to open at first. Then a warm breath blew against him. He opened his legs, and his balls contracted. Tiny wet taps to his sac pulled his head up as though attached to a string. A moppy head was buried between his legs. He growled at it. It rose, a pair of eyes appearing. One winked right before Isaac took one of his balls into his hot mouth and rolled it on his tongue. Rune reached for his dick and stroked the underside with his fingertips. Heat ebbed and flowed in time to the vibrations from Isaac’s humming.
A moment later Isaac released him. “You tickled my tongue.”
He tucked an arm under his head, raising it again. Isaac’s usually serious face flashed with dancing smiles. He was a bright-eyed gamin, not the suspicious kid with his arms across his chest. A rush of guilt like sour spit filled Rune’s mouth. He swallowed painfully. What if this were his life?—lights in the trees, fires burning in his fire pits, days spent in his studio, nights like…
Well, he had this. He had to enjoy this because it was all there was.
He threaded his fingers through Isaac’s hair again, pain spreading like poison through his chest, and tugged Isaac up his body.
“Sit on me,” he murmured.
Somber now, Isaac nodded and patted the bed, straddling him a moment later with the bottle of lube. Rune turned his hand up, and Isaac squirted some on his palm. He used a little to grease himself then reached between Isaac’s legs, sighing at the feel of hot balls dragging over his wrist. Isaac sank his teeth into his bottom lip, opening his legs wider, and sinking into the press of Rune’s fingers. Much as Rune wanted to banish the thought from his mind, he wondered how many times Isaac had done this. How many times he hadn’t wanted to, and it was the steel poured into his spine that he needed. A reminder of why he was doing what he was. Why decimating the Adi ’el Lumi was the best and only thing. He wasn’t done, but for this moment, a few moments, this night, he wanted to think of nothing but Isaac’s glowing eyes on his and meet the tiny smile that softened his face with his own.
The heat of Isaac’s core drew him to his hole. He brushed the rough skin, and Isaac shuddered, eyelids sinking low as he rolled his hips, stroking himself on Rune’s fingers. He was hot and slick. Rune curled a finger, and Isaac sank onto it, wriggling to impale himself. His face twisted with a slight wince until Rune crooked the finger, sliding in deeper, as muscles contracted and dragged him in. So fucking hot. His cock jerked at the thought of Isaac’s body gripping him tight. Yes, my boy.
Isaac’s stomach muscles rippled. Rune worked another finger in and pushed up. “I love watching what this does to you.”
Isaac grinned. “Makes me itch.”
“I’ll scratch you.”
He smiled. “My hero.”
But he wasn’t joking, and Rune’s heart clamped tight again. He found Isaac’s prostate and tapped it.
Isaac arched and gasped, his mouth a long O, his breath escaping in a slow sigh. “Oh… fuck.”
He rolled and bobbed.
“I can’t go any deeper,” Rune gasped.
Isaac jerked off his fingers, got one foot under him, and sank onto Rune’s dick. Heat ignited inside him, and Rune groaned as flames spread from his cock into his belly. “Fuck me.”
Isaac’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, but he shifted, got his other foot under him, and took Rune deeper than before. The pounding in his dick had to be Isaac’s heart as though he’d impaled him all the way through. Isaac dropped his palms onto Rune’s chest, body still, panting and blinking. He let out a breath, took another, and smiled. “I can move now.”
Rune growled at him. “Thank fuck.”
With another gasping smile, he rose to Rune’s tip and slammed back down. A shout burst from his lips, and his eyes flew wide as though the sound surprised him. Rune grinned, and Isaac cackled. He pulled up and slammed down again. Over and over. His weight rocked Rune’s body, jerking grunts from him. Rune bucked up to meet him, balls bouncing against Isaac’s sweaty ass. He stroked the heaving ribs, sliding over molten skin, slick and slippery. Isaac’s cock flew, slapping Rune’s belly on the down strokes. Rune caught it in his fist, and Isaac threw his head back, emitting a faint cry with every gasp. Rune stroked him, the tingle in his spine warning him. “Not gonna last,” he grunted.
Isaac whipped his head back and forth. “No… no… no…”
Rune’s balls contracted, and Isaac’s cock swelled and pulsed in his hand. He spurted, the hot splash of cum on Rune’s belly tripping him over the edge. He pulled down on Isaac’s hips, lodging deep into his body, pumping cum inside him in spasm after spasm. Isaac shuddered and shook. His weight pushed Rune into the damp mattress, his pants drowning out Rune’s groan.
Holy fuck.
Isaac laughed, resting his forehead on Rune’s chest. “Wow.”
Rune blinked to clear his vision. “Yeah.”
His skin tingled and sizzled everywhere Isaac touched him. He was spent, but still hard inside Isaac’s ass. Warm and safe with no desire to leave. But…
He stroked Isaac’s slick back and hitched his hips. Isaac nodded and slid off with a grimace and rolled to the side.
Look at him.
But Rune was afraid of falling into him, of never escaping.
He closed his eyes and fell asleep.
24
A Coffee Date
Perhaps Morjin had no plans to talk to Bronwen. Not about anything important, at least, though he’d met Bronny in the entryway of his home with a slight dip of his chin. “I enjoy the lounge this time of day.”
This time of day was dusk. Morjin lived on the edge of a wood that seeped a lavender mist. The lounge opened onto a patio with an unlit fire pit in the center. The lounge was otherwise dark with walnut paneling and coffee-colored tile threaded with gold. The furnishing—voluptuously cushy sofas and chairs—was upholstered in crimson and more gold. Morjin gestured to a chair, and Bronwen deposited himself with a sigh.
This is how Ellowyn are supposed to live.
“I grieve for your loss,” he murmured.
Morjin gave him a blank stare before cracking his neck.
“Yes. As I do yours.”
Nothing but a rote reply, but it was basic courtesy. Morjin behaved like a prince. Circumspect and careful with his words. Not like the Senera family, which was nothing if not mouthy. Too close the Wrythins had come to a crossling being one of them. He’d abhorred the thought of Wen marrying that half human drainer, Jessa, just to climb one rung on the ladder of royal families.
He shivered, and Morjin sat forward on his chair, and placed his elbows on his knees. “I have requested coffee.”
The comment was so discordant with Morjin’s expression and Bronwen’s expectation that only nonsensical sounds floated in and out of Bronny’s head. By the time a proper response occurred to him, Morjin had flopped back into his chair.
“What do you want?”
He wanted Morjin’s help but getting it depended on how comfortable Morjin was with the state of affairs. Vampires had a right to feed from humans and the time would come when vampires ruled again. Bronwen intended to be prepared with the best accommodations in Comity House. Solomon was a player in the hidden activities that would return the Ellowyn to power, and Solomon had ordered Bronwen to follow Cammy in return for his help. But… why Camiel?
And in any case, Bronwen needed help. He wasn’t cut out for spying.
“Is there news of your brother’s murderer?”
“No.”
“Isn’t it being investigated?”
Morjin laughed. “The humans have a story of a knot impossible to untangle. They call it the Gordian knot. That was my brother’s murder, and Dinallah won’t follow through. He’s a puppet.” Morjin’s face twisted. “A disgrace.”
“Wasn’t a human one of the suspects?”
“You mean Dinallah’s swain? What does that tell you? I should have broken the bastard’s neck.”
Bronwen nodded. He kept his silence at the approach of a human. The beast set a tray on the table in front of Morjin, poured two cups of coffee, and departed without speaking. The twist on Morjin’s face deepened.
