Awakenings 2: Instinct

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Awakenings 2: Instinct Page 6

by Jessica Freely


  Saffron lay down and rolled onto her back, wriggling this way and that, rubbing her face against the needles. Vic trotted over to her and dipped his nose between her legs. She wriggled some more. Joam became aware of a scent emanating from both of them, a musk whose very odor had him hardening with arousal. Saffron rolled back onto all fours, and Vic mounted her. They made soft huffing, grunting noises. Enid went to Saffron and started licking her face while Vic fucked her.

  Joam found he wanted nothing more than to get up on Vic and mount him while he thrust into Saffron. But what about Blake? Was it cheating if it was with other varnals, while Blake was human? As much as his heightened varnal libido urged him to take a liberal view of the matter, his conscience would not be swayed. If he were married to a woman and had sex with a man, it would be cheating, no matter that what he could have with his male lover was something his wife could not give him. It wasn't Blake's fault that he wasn't a varnal, and no matter what the circumstances, fucking Vic would hurt Blake's feelings, and nothing was worth that.

  Vic looked over his shoulder to where Joam sat at the edge of the circle, erection raging. Vic grinned. Clearly he thought Joam a fool. Or perhaps at war with his own nature. The latter was certainly true. As the trio shifted positions, so that Saffron was licking Enid's pussy while Enid licked and slurped at Vic's bright red varnal penis, the musk and the sexual energy rolling off the group was all but overpowering. Joam reached down with one forehand and stroked himself.

  Now Vic was fucking Enid while Saffron finger fucked his asshole. Joam felt as if it were all happening to him. In a sense, whether he acted or not, he was having sex with all of them. Caught within the field of their sexual energy, he experienced everything they did with one another.

  He found he couldn't break away. The force of three varnals driving each other to climax was too powerful to evade. Joam's legs refused his efforts to direct them away from the clearing and back to the farmhouse. All he could do was writhe in ever-sharpening pleasure, stroking himself as Enid, Saffron, and Vic licked, fucked, and sucked one another, and the moon overhead grinned down upon them all.

  Enid, her pussy stuffed full of Vic's cock and her face buried in Saffron's snatch, came first. Her orgasm hit Joam like a shock wave. The burst of sexual energy triggered Saffron's release, then Vic's. Joam found himself in the eye of a storm, the waves of sexual ecstasy buffeting him about like a ship tossed on the ocean, wringing his own shattering, white-hot climax from him in a burst that obliterated everything in its wake.

  Joam came to himself a moment later. He lay on the ground, his hand sticky, his cock tumescent and rapidly retreating into its sheath. He drew in a deep breath redolent with sex and got to all fours. The others were grooming one another, and when they saw Joam recovered, they came to him.

  Their touch was no longer sensual, but instead merely kind, stroking and gentling his shattered senses with delicate hands, smoothing ruffled fur with soft tongues. It felt wonderful to be accepted by them like this. Joam let go of his doubts and inhibitions for the moment and accepted their ministrations.

  Chapter Five

  Once they were all cleaned up, the pack headed back to the farmhouse. Vic opened the door, and they all piled in, returning to their human forms in the foyer. Back in his human body, with senses more moderate and controllable, Joam felt shame for what he'd done. No, he hadn't actually had sex with any of them…or had he? He'd think about that later. Without bothering to dress first, he went into the living room in search of Blake. But the living room was empty. “Blake?”

  He heard the steps to the second floor creak. Joam went into the hallway to find Blake halfway down the stairs, his face hidden in shadow. “I was putting Jimmy to bed. He was tired.”

  There was something odd about Blake's voice. He sounded oddly detached. “Is everything okay?”

  “Of course,” Blake said, but the words sounded remote, mechanical. He took another step, and his face came into the light. For a moment, it looked pinched, suspicious. Then Blake smiled and hastened the rest of the way down the stairs and into Joam's arms. “How was it? What did you do?”

  “It was fun,” said Joam, not knowing what else to say. No way was he answering that second question. Instead, he just hugged Blake tight, savoring the man's warmth. By now the others had dressed and were making their way past them to the kitchen. All but for Enid, who wormed around them to go upstairs. As she passed them, she gave Joam a little smile and trailed the fingertips of one hand across his flank. He shifted. Had Blake noticed? “What about you? How was your evening?”

  “Fine,” said Blake, in that too-level tone. “Jimmy and I had a fine old time. There was a Monk marathon on TV.”

  “Monk… I think I saw that once on the tube in Sam's bar. He's a demon hunter or something, right?”

  “Onmiogi,” Blake corrected. “A Buddhist monk who uses magic powers to fight sorcerers and eldritch creatures,” Blake corrected.

  It came to Joam how out of touch he was with the world. The human world. Any world. The thought made him feel lonely, and he hugged Blake again, resting his face against the side of his neck.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  “Yeah,” said Joam. “Let's go upstairs.”

  Blake sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes fixed on the moon outside the window. Joam sat down next to him and took his hand. “You've been upset. I can feel it every time I take varnal form. What's wrong? Is it the abstinence?”

  After the weird night he'd just had, the last thing Blake wanted to do was expose his personal insecurities. This is what it will be like, he realized. Their bond meant that he couldn't hide his feelings from Joam. Unless of course Joam decided to sever that bond. “I don't really want to talk about it,” said Blake.

  “Oh,” Joam said, his voice small. “Okay.”

  Now Blake felt bad. He knew Joam well enough already to know that he'd be blaming himself for Blake's mood. “It's not your fault.”

  “No?”

  Well, yes. But admitting to Joam how devastating his withdrawal had been would just add salt to the wound.

  Joam sighed and stroked the top of Blake's hand with his long fingers. “You know, what you said the other night in the motel goes both ways. I'm not the only one who's had a rough time of it.” He leaned sideways, pressing his shoulder against Blake's. “I don't know much about being a hustler, but it seems like a hard life. I'd make that better for you too, if I could.”

  The minute the word “hustler” came out of Joam's mouth, Blake reacted. He pulled his hand away from Joam's and turned on him. “Is that why you won't have sex with me?”

  “What?”

  “Just tell me. I have to know.”

  Joam stared at him, mouth open. He wasn't answering.

  Blake was rapidly reconsidering his statement. Maybe he didn't have to know. Maybe he didn't want to know. He stood and paced, his arms wrapped tight around his rib cage. Joam wasn't denying it. This hurt almost as bad as when he was first kicked out of his parents' house. Suddenly, he wished he could die. Suddenly, it seemed to him that maybe Jimmy didn't have it so bad after all. Mindless. That meant he couldn't be hurt anymore, right?

  “You think I've been staying away from you because of your past? No, Blake. No. I love you.”

  Oh God. He wasn't making this any easier. All Blake wanted to do was sink into Joam's arms and dissolve into tears, but instead he kept his distance. “That doesn't stop you from—” He stopped short. He couldn't say the words.

  Joam looked mystified. “From what?”

  He was giving Blake that lost, puppy-dog look that melted Blake's heart every time. Blake glanced at the foot of the bed, where his memory of this morning's lonely, unsatisfying jerk-off session strengthened his resolve. “But you don't want to touch me.”

  “That's not true,” said Joam.

  “I can't help being what I am,” said Blake. “If you can't accept that, then…well… Just because we're lifemates, that doesn't mean you have to be st
uck with me. I mean…I don't know how it all works, but… If you'd rather have someone else, a varnal, or at least someone who's not a—” He broke off again and turned to the window. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he just say the words? Since when had he held any illusions about himself? Why was he suddenly so…?

  “What? Blake—” Blake heard the floorboards creak, and a warm hand rested on his shoulder. The gentleness of the touch ignited Blake's temper. He spun around. “Stop touching me if you don't want to fuck me!”

  Joam blinked and backed up a step. “Blake?”

  “Come on, Joam! You've been avoiding me since we got here. So you're having second thoughts about taking a used-up street whore for your lover. Who can blame you? Especially when there are all these tempting varnals around who can do so much more for you. But I can't change who I am. If you can't get past that then…then we'd better talk to Saffron and Vic about severing the life bond.”

  Joam knitted his brow. “Blake, what are you talking about?”

  “I saw how you reacted when the subject came up. You were interested. It's all right. I understand.”

  “No, you don't. Blake—”

  “Stop it!” The view of the yard wavered. Shit. That was just what he needed now. Tears.

  “Blake, please. Will you come here and sit next to me?”

  Blake wanted to say no. He wanted to say yes.

  “Please, Blake. Please come here.”

  Blake's chin quivered, and he realized he was going to cry. Shit. No. He mustered anger to keep the tears at bay. He strode over to the bed and plopped down in it, his back to Joam.

  “I don't want to sever our bond. And I don't give a shit that you've been a hustler, except that it seems to make you feel bad about yourself. I was avoiding sex with you because I couldn't stand it if you got hurt again.”

  Blake fought for control. “You keep saying that, but you can't drain me if you're in human form.”

  “I know. But I've been having these dreams…” He trailed off, and then, just as Blake thought he wouldn't say any more, added, “You know, the first time I shifted, it was by accident.”

  Blake's anger left him. He turned to look at Joam. “The night your mother died.”

  “Yeah. I've been dreaming about that night. The first time was the night the cops came for us. In the dream, I shift accidentally, just like the very first time, and I run and I run. And then, I catch this scent, and it draws me to it. I'm hungry. I know I'm going to devour whoever that scent is emanating from. Soak up all their energy, drain them until there's nothing left. And I follow the scent, and it leads to my mother's house, only it's not her in there. It's you. And I kill you.”

  It was Blake's turn to stare. Speechless, he saw the truth in Joam's eyes, saw the worry in the line between his brows and the tension at the corners of his eyes and mouth. And the dark circles under his eyes. He was trembling, and he kept leaning forward a little and then pulling back, like he wanted Blake to touch him and he didn't dare ask.

  Blake felt like an asshole. “Oh my God, Joam.” He pulled him close and held him tight. “How horrible! I'm so sorry. It's just a dream. All that's over now. You didn't kill her, and you're not going to kill me. It's all right.”

  Joam clung to him, breathing hard. At length, his trembling stopped and he seemed to relax. “So that's why you're so afraid,” said Blake. “It's not because of what I used to do for a living.”

  Joam's voice was thick. “Of course. What do you think I am?”

  He was a varnal. A mechanic. An almost virgin. And a kind and gentle soul. Exactly the kind of person who would not give a damn what Blake's past was like. How could he have let his own insecurities blind him so completely? “I—”

  “Do you believe me?” asked Joam.

  Blake slid across the bed and let Joam take him in his arms and hold him, his head cradled against Joam's broad, bony chest. He nodded. “I'm sorry. How stupid of me. I wish I'd known you were having bad dreams. But I should have known you wouldn't judge me like that. I just—You're so pure, and I'm—”

  “Innocent,” said Joam. “You're innocent. And I don't know about pure, babe. Maybe I was ignorant of a man's touch until three days ago, but I don't think that made me pure, if pure means better than you or anyone else. And I don't care how many men you've had sex with for money. That has nothing to do with the fact that if it weren't for you, I'd be dead by now. You risked your own life for me. Don't you dare put yourself down, or think that anything you did out of necessity could be more important than that.” He pressed a kiss to the top of Blake's head. “Do you understand?”

  Blake nodded, his face hot. He clung to Joam as his tears overwhelmed him. All his lonely days and nights washed over him.

  Joam held Blake and rocked him as the first sobs broke free from his attempts to control them. “Okay,” he said. “It's okay now.”

  Blake shook with the force of his emotions. Joam stroked his back, and they rode the storm out together. When he'd calmed a little bit, Joam rested his cheek against Blake's soft blond hair and said, “I'm sorry if I did anything to make you think I thought low of you.”

  Blake shook his head. “No,” he said, his voice thick. “No, you didn't. It was me. It's all my fault.”

  “Not your fault.”

  “Yes. I—” He searched for the words. “I let my own insecurity blind me to what was really going on. And because of that, I wasn't there for you. Just because I wish I'd never turned a trick. Oh, Joam. Can you forgive me?”

  Joam hugged him tighter. “Of course. I should have told you about the dream.”

  Blake closed his eyes, resting against Joam and letting the wonderful, warm feeling of Joam's unconditional love wash over him. He listened to the soft whisper of Joam's breath and felt his chest rise and fall. The thud of Joam's heartbeat against his cheek was a repeated reminder. This is real; this is real; this is real.

  He sighed. From somewhere deep inside him, words came. “When I was a kid, I was going to be an astronomer. Then, when I was fourteen, my mom caught me with Jimmy Lowenstein and kicked me out of the house,” he said. “Overnight, I went from being a spoiled suburban kid to a homeless runaway.”

  Joam hugged him closer but said nothing.

  “I used what was left of my allowance to buy a bus ticket to the big city. By the time I got there I was hungry, but I had no money for food. This guy offered me ten bucks if I would blow him. I was so hungry, I did it.”

  Joam whispered a wordless murmur of comfort and rocked him slightly.

  “After that, I met some other hustlers, and I learned to charge more. My friend Randy found me after a bad trick and took care of me. I learned to pay attention to my instincts. I learned to turn off certain parts of myself—thoughts and feelings that just made life harder. I thought I'd lost the ability to feel those things. Until I met you.”

  Joam sighed and kissed the back of his neck. “It's a lucky thing we found each other then.”

  Blake nodded. “I was only half-alive. You brought me back to myself.”

  “Everything is going to be okay, Blake. So long as we're together, the rest will work itself out.”

  Blake still had his doubts, but he didn't voice them. For now it was enough to know that Joam loved him and accepted him for who he was. They sat together in silence, accepting comfort from one another as outside, the moon sank behind the trees.

  Joam didn't dream, but he awoke in the predawn with a pounding erection and a warm, tousled Blake in his arms. Blake was right. He was being overcautious. He'd never shifted by accident except for that first time, and from what Vic had told him, that was a typical first shift experience. Truth was, he missed Blake terribly, all the more for his troubling experience with the other varnals.

  Making up his mind, Joam snuggled up to him under the covers and planted a kiss on the side of his neck. This seemed to please Blake, who sighed and turned toward him, eyelids fluttering. A sleepy smile curved his lips. “Mmm. Morning.”

/>   Their lips met, and Joam realized that for all the fireworks he'd experienced with Vic, Saffron, and Enid, what he shared with Blake was even better. As intense as that ecstasy had been, it couldn't hold a candle to the deep connection he felt with his human lover, his lifemate. Kissing Blake was like sinking into a deep vat of warm chocolate pudding: sweet, seductive, and soothing. While the feelings that Blake's mobile lips elicited from Joam's body were, in their own way, as overwhelming as the things he'd felt with the varnals, here he felt safe, secure…loved.

  Blake broke the kiss and turned his head to lick and nip at Joam's neck, quickly zeroing in on the juncture of neck and shoulder. Joam groaned.

  “You hold tension here,” murmured Blake.

  “Mmmnuh.”

  “Roll onto your stomach.”

  Joam did as he was told, and Blake straddled his hips, his ass settling onto the tops of Joam's thighs. He could feel Blake's erection against the cleft of his ass. He flexed his hips.

  “Easy, boy,” Blake said with a soft chuckle. “All in good time.”

  As Joam lay prostrate beneath him, Blake massaged his neck and shoulders, strong, sensitive fingers locating and unraveling every knot of tension he had. Joam had no idea he'd been so tense. Blake's warm hands manipulating and stroking his sore muscles made ripples of delight dance up and down his spine. Joam closed his eyes and gave himself over to the wonderful sensations as Blake turned his neck and shoulders to jelly and then moved down to his back.

  “Your skin is so beautiful,” said Blake, stroking Joam's back up and down with featherlight touches. Joam was past speech. He gave a grunt, facedown and drooling into his pillow.

  Blake kneaded the overworked muscles of Joam's back, pressing his knuckles into the knots at the base of his spine. Firmly, methodically, he ground the stiffness out of Joam's flesh and moved on, to Joam's buttocks and thighs.

  Now it was impossible not to respond. Blake's strong hands kneading Joam's buttocks reminded him of their first night together, and he flexed his hips, lifting his ass in invitation. Blake just chuckled and moved on to Joam's thighs.

 

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