Urban Decay: Darkly Mine Season One

by Leona Windwalker

  “Nooooo,” he whined, reaching down to palm himself. I knocked his hand away.

  “Nuh-uh,” I chided. “That’s mine. Use your words. Where do you want my mouth?”

  “My cock,” he begged.

  Sit on the bed,” I ordered him.

  He sat, his ass perched on the edge, his knees and feet a full width’s apart to give me easy access. I knelt between them and admired the length of him, the purpling head a testament to how much he wanted me. The scent of his musk, mixed with the mineral scent of the saltwater pool he’d swam in, tickled my senses. I leaned in, my tongue worshipping him as it licked a long stripe up the length of his shaft. Up, then back down.

  “Yes,” he moaned softly, the way he struggled to keep his voice soft, pushing me onward. If he could pay attention to his volume, I wasn’t doing my job right. I swirled my tongue around the head, then sucked him in deep.

  “Fuck yeah!”

  I hollowed my cheeks and began to bob my head eagerly. I raised my eyes to his face, finding him staring at me intently. I hummed then swallowed him the rest of the way down.

  “Shit, your throat!” I reveled in watching him come undone. Hot liquid splashed my throat and I pulled back to avoid choking on the jets of semen. Besides, I wanted to taste him. I grasped his still spurting cock and held it in front of my lips, my tongue darting to catch the droplets before they could all hit my face. When he finished, I licked him clean and let him go, then took my index finger, using it to wipe the cum he had managed to mark me with. I made a show of licking it from my finger.

  “Fuuuuuck,” he moaned. “So hot.” His cock twitched, already refilling.

  I had a plan for that, one I’d hoped to be able to implement here. I grinned at him.

  “Wanna fuck?” I asked. “I packed lube.”

  “I’ve never, um…”

  “If you don’t want to, that’s fine,” I reassured him. “I know we’ve not gone that far before, but I’d love to feel you in me.”

  “You want me to fuck you?” he looked surprised.

  “Well, yeah. I’d love to ream your tight ass, too, but right now, I want to feel you split me open with your cock.”

  My dirty talked turned him on; he was already at full mast again.

  “I’m clean,” he assured me. “There’s only ever been you.”

  I was undead, so there wasn’t anything for me to catch. Well, except for a case of Bonding, but I’d already done that. As if he heard himself being thought about, Arrakus stirred.

  Belooooveddd.

  Just the one word, then thankfully, he withdrew.

  “Lube’s in my washbag, which is probably in the bathroom.”

  I entered the ensuite, and sure enough, my leather washbag sat on the counter next to the sink. I unzipped it and pulled out the tube, hurrying back with it. Uncapping it, I squirted some into the palm of my hands, tossing it onto the bedside table. I quickly rubbed my hands together to warm it, then took Shannon’s dick in hand, making sure it was well slathered. Then, I reached behind myself and rubbed the excess over my hole and crease. I moved to stand beside him, then climbed up onto the bed on all fours. He stood up, his pupils blown wide with excitement, glistening dick bobbing, the pulse in his neck thrumming so loud now my preternatural hearing registered the rush of his blood.

  “Just take it slow,” I said, “But please, put it in me now.”

  He positioned himself behind me. “Shouldn’t I at least do some stretching first?”

  “No, I like the burn,” I said.

  He didn’t answer, apparently satisfied with my response. I felt the blunt tip of his cock against my rosebud, then the sharp pinch and sting as he shoved inside. He went slowly but steadily, the pressure edging between pleasure and pain. Spots danced before my eyes as electricity danced along my spine.

  Bbbbbbeeeeeelovvveddd…

  I felt his hips settle against my ass as he bottomed out, his balls swinging forward to lightly brush against mine with the faintest tease of a touch.

  “Move,” I begged.

  He pulled back, then began a series of short thrusts. I rocked my hips backward, chasing him as he withdrew. We continued that dance until he shifted his body. The change in angle sent me soaring.

  “There!” I cried out, heedless of who might overhear us.

  He pulled back further and thrust in again sharply, nailing that same spot again.

  “Yes, yes,” I chanted, he sped up his thrusts, keeping some long and hard, others short, and occasionally swiveling his hips. He hot that perfect place inside more often than not, each time sending me closer to falling over the precipice. I reached a hand down and began playing with my balls. His breathing became harsher, his movements more erratic. I began to tug on my cock now. One hard shove into my ass lighting me up and a downward stroke on my dick, thumb over my slit as the fireworks erupted under my lids, and I was a goner.

  “Fuck yeah!” he screamed, as if from far away. Then he thrust hard once more, my mind registering that I was going to have bruises from his fingers in the morning from how tightly he held me. His cum filled me with his heat. Then he was done. He slapped my ass cheek before pulling free.

  “That was amazing.,” he said.

  “You seemed to know what you were doing.” I waggled my eyebrows at him playfully, causing him to laugh.

  “All that porn we’ve watched while dry humping,” he said, flopping down next to me. “Come here, let me hold you.”

  “Okay, just for a bit, then we should shower.”

  “Mmm, yeah, together so we save water,” he winked.

  We didn’t save any water at all. My lathering his back up quickly turned into a porno scene, and he lost his virginity in the shower. We only got out because the water finally turned cold.

  17

  We woke up to the smell of sizzling bacon. I stretched, yawning, flinging the arm I had over Shannon up in the air and moving my leg from off of his as I pointed my toes down towards the end of the bed.

  “I’d love to say yes to what I feel poking me in the ass,” Shannon whispered, “But not only am I still feeling last night’s shower fun a bit, but someone’s in the kitchen just outside..” He was right. The kitchen was in the short leg of the L of the penthouse, the dine-in kitchen’s floor to ceiling windows looking out over the right-hand side of the pool from where we were. Inside, only the open plan living room area was between us in any kind of way. They might not be able to see us fuck, but they’d definitely hear us. I smirked. Not that they probably hadn’t last night. We’d been rather vocal, especially in the shower. Shannon’s cries had echoed around us. They’d probably heard him loud and clear-hell, our downstairs neighbors probably had, as well.

  Shannon rolled out from under the covers. “I gotta pee,” he said, making a break for it.

  I closed my eyes languidly and gave another full-body stretch. I could hear the sound of his piss hitting the bowl, then the flush. They caused my own bladder to twinge in sympathy and I reluctantly crawled out from under the covers. As I did so, I caught sight of myself in the mirror. I had bags under my eyes, ugh, and looked more than a bit haggard. At least I could put it down to jet lag, though the truth was it was nearly time for my normal feed. The one I’d just had only was enough to heal my wounds and top me back up to almost where I’d been before the Bonding took place.

  Shannon came out, one hand scratching his belly lazily.

  “I can’t believe the towels. I didn’t notice it myself last night, but did you see they have our initials embroidered on the hand towels? Seriously, there’s an R for you and an S for me. I don’t even want to know how she got matching monogrammed towels so fast!”

  “Probably used a local seamstress who does it as a service or something,” I replied, “Scuse me, my turn!” I rushed past him as he moved aside. My bladder was full-on screaming now, the running water of the sink as he washed his hands being the final straw. I glanced over at the towels as I emptied my bladder. He was right. Lush
hand towels in a royal blue that matched the bath sheets and mat we’d made use of the night before proudly bore initials so pale a blue they were almost, but not quite, white. I caught sight of the edge of long toweling the shame shade of pale blue in the mirror, hanging along the side of the bathroom door. We’d not shut the door the night before, so that’s how we had missed it. I flushed and washed hands, then turned to look at what was hanging on the door. They were two thickly plush toweling robes, this time the initials on the breast in deep royal blue. Mom certainly had gone all out.

  “There are bathrobes here,” I said, taking one down and showing him.

  “Oh, wow, how did we not notice those last night?”

  “I think we were otherwise occupied,” I replied. My cock twitched at the memory of being buried in his tight, sweet ass.

  “True,” he laughed. “Think it’d be okay to put them on to go eat, or should we get dressed first?”

  “Robes,” I decided. “Then, we can each take a proper shower before getting dressed for whatever is on the schedule for today.”

  Mom was sitting at the table outside sipping from a cup, a half-empty French press in front of her. She was already dressed, but I didn’t care. I wanted to eat before rushing about to fulfill my duties. This brief respite was a blip on the long road of eternity. I intended to enjoy every fucking minute of it that I could.

  She looked up as we came out, a warm, welcoming smile lighting up her face.

  “I see you found the robes. I’m glad you liked them. They and the towels are a kind of early Christmas present from me. I was at a charity luncheon for war dogs and one of the organizers, a woman named Felicity Bell, said to me, ‘Do you know anyone who sews? I have my mother’s old Select-o-Matic, and I don’t just want to junk it. It has all the cog thingies and everything so that you can embroider designs on the hem and monogram and stuff.’ Well, I remembered seeing those machines years ago, and I did love to sew as a girl. I arranged to go see the machine, decided I wanted it, had it delivered and serviced, and then when you called, got the idea for those.”

  Wow. She’d actually done the monogramming herself, after hunting down the textiles and matching thread. I felt oddly touched. It was a sweet gesture and not one I thought a high society woman would do at all. I walked over and bent down, kissing her cheek.

  “We love them, Mom,” I said.

  She swallowed thickly, her eyes threatening tears once more. I cursed myself. I seemed to make this lovely woman want to do nothing but cry.

  “Please don’t cry,” I begged her, my voice soft.

  “It’s been a long time since I heard you call me that. Even before the accident. You’d distanced yourself when you transferred schools and made new friends.”

  New friends who weren’t legacies and who introduced River to the illicit drugs they found in his system the night he died. Drug and alcohol abuse, how much of that was because he was facing down the countdown to being Made? The happy kid in the pictures in my room was a far cry from the one who died that day.

  “I still remember the last time you said it,” she continued thickly. Shannon slid into a chair at the table, one away from the empty seat I was standing next to. I sat down myself, then, taking her hand and rubbing it, trying to ease her distress. “It was the day before you left to go to Jarlwood Prep. Your father took you to meet the,” she faltered then, her gaze flicking towards Shannon. “Well, he went to meet the Chairman and he took you along. There was a meal and you came back angry and withdrawn over something that happened there, and after that, you never addressed us directly at all.”

  “It was a stupid disagreement,” came a man’s voice. We swiveled our heads to look at the man who joined us on the patio. “I should have never let things go so far. Your mother begged me to get you counseling, to ask for recommendations for someone experienced.”

  “What happened to cause the fallout?” Shannon asked.

  “A disagreement over his course of study. He wanted medical school and the Chairman expressed his strong desire, which River’s mother and I shared, that River would study business management and urban development with a view of him coming aboard. The Chairman had just told him that he was thrilled to know River would be interning with the firm over the summer holidays. River reacted badly, and I’m afraid we argued. It escalated when he saw the meal prepared for the Chairman and myself.” He pursed his lips, realizing he had to explain away that odd detail. “He didn’t approve of veal.”

  “Baby cows, nope, that’s not on my list of things I’m happy with, either. But I don’t make an ass of myself about it.” He looked at me reprovingly.

  “I was a little shit,” I said. “I’m different now.”

  Mom took her hand from mine and patted my cheek. “You’re River 2.0, and we all get a second chance. Us as parents and you as a son.”

  That was no lie, no matter how you looked at it. I took a deep breath. “I’d be happy to still intern over the summer. Keep my options open, you know?”

  Shannon nodded. “You could add some business management courses on as electives. Even if you decide to go on and study medicine, they will stand you in good stead if you ever decided to open a private practice.”

  Mr. Montgomery sat down. The housekeeper came out bearing chafing dishes. She took the lids off, revealing bacon, scrambled eggs, and sauteed mushrooms.

  “I’ll talk to the chairman and see if the offer is still on the table,” he said.

  To Shannon, I knew it looked as if we were discussing me keeping study and career options open. The dark reality was that I was letting them know that I was happy to have them move me like a chess piece on the board. It wasn’t a choice at all, but I always found it better to show agreement and demonstrate my loyalty than give them a reason to disfavor me. That led to unpleasant consequences I did not wish to think about, not even for the merest split of a second.

  We began serving ourselves.

  “After breakfast, the tailor will be here to check the fitting of your suits and we’ll have a late lunch in the dining room where I’ll go over the basics of table etiquette for Shannon,” mom announced.

  “So, put on something easy to take off after we shower,” Shannon reasoned, pouring himself some of the coffee after I passed it to him, having already poured myself a cup.

  “Yes, and you can put it back on after your fitting. Tonight you’ll need to put on something smart casual, being certain to pair it with the holiday sweaters I got you both. They should be in River’s closet, dear,” she replied to him.

  “Make sure to shave, don’t want scruffy elves, do we son?” he addressed me.

  “No, Dad. So tonight is the singing and gift-giving at the hospital?” I replied.

  “Yes,” he said simply, looking down at his plate studiously upon hearing the word dad slip from my lips. He looked back up, quiet approval showing. “The press will be there, so we need to look our best. I know you’ll do us proud.”

  “I’ll be glad when all this stuff is over with so we can relax and enjoy our family Christmas together,” Mom said.

  “Well, tomorrow’s the gala dinner, and after that, there’s just the one New Year’s Eve, so we’ll have all the time between,” Dad placated her. “You did your stint for the company toy drive, organized the food donation for the meals at the homeless veteran’s shelter, so you’re done unless you signed up for something else I don’t know about.”

  “No, not this year. After what happened, I didn’t want to spend a second away from our son than I had to. We have this chance to rebuild our family, and I’m taking full advantage.”

  Shannon shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “I didn’t mean to intrude; I didn’t think about-”

  Dad cut him off. “Nonsense. You’re River’s, so that makes you family. We are the ones privileged to be able to add you to our celebrations.”

  “Thank you,” Shannon whispered, sounding overcome. I leaned over and kissed his cheek. Mr. Montgomery, no, Dad, I reminded mysel
f, was right. We were very privileged, indeed. Shannon’s presence let us all have a taste of normal, human, living.

  We finished the rest of the meal talking about inconsequential things, such as going to see the lights and window displays downtown the day after tomorrow. A feeling of contentment washed over me, and I wasn’t startled to realize that it wasn’t all mine.

  Bbbbbeeeelovveddd. A long pause then, Ffffffaaaammmmillllllyyy.

  Yes, I thought back. Ours.

  The warm glow inside me blazed.

  18

  We had a surprise waiting for us at the hospital. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw Henry and Rusty both standing there, wearing light-up Christmas sweaters, their parents beside them. I hurried up to them, clapping them on the shoulders.

  “I heard the dress was smart casual yet festive, not expensive but tacky,” I joked.

  “Shut up,” Rusty said good-naturedly. “I had us run out to get these this morning before flying out.” He tilted his head towards Henry. “He needed cheering up, and I thought a bit of silly fun might help with that.”

  I turned my full attention to Henry. Now that I looked closer, I could see something was amiss. I gave a subtle sniff. Through the overlying, pervasive smell of hospital disinfectant and all of our aftershaves, I caught it.

  “When?” I asked him.

  “As soon as I got home,” he said, looking down at his shoes. “It was supposed to be something great, you know? A huge honor. I suppose it is, but I’d not wish that experience on anybody.”

  “What? Why what happened?” Shannon demanded.

  The three of us exchanged glances. How to explain?

  “Our dads belong to one of those secret society type things. Henry was inducted as a member.”

  “Oh, like the Masons?”

  No, not like the Masons. Not like Fred Flintstone’s Order of the Buffalo or whatever, either. But, his notion was close enough to get the gist across without spilling any secrets.