Space Invaders

by Amber Kell

  I knew the score.

  But maybe Frey didn’t because when my legs wound around his like hungry ivy he just grunted approval, kissing and nipping my neck while my head fell back. He tugged my hair, forcing me to look into his eyes again, but this time, though my throat tightened, I didn’t try to fight.

  “There’s something in the drawer we need.”

  He opened it cautiously, as if something monstrous might spring free. After the day we’d had, I couldn’t blame him. I took out the lube, closed my eyes and consciously worked to loosen my body as I readied myself to take him.

  Frey helped me, his hand sweeping down, taking hold of my stiff penis, working me up and down so my body bowed off the bed. “Fuck!”

  His lips burnt my skin, his white teeth nipped, his firm hands held me as he moved down my body and he swallowed my cock, sucking strongly while I bucked.

  Then his mouth was on my opening, his tongue pushing inside.

  I yelped and even he couldn’t hold me down.

  I fell off my bed and lay on the drifts of wool, staring up at him through my hair.

  “You desired that,” he said. “I felt the heat of your body, I heard your gasps. I did not misjudge, Bailey.”

  I swallowed, looked away. My body was still throbbing like a wild drum beat. Fuck yeah, I’d wanted that. “It freaked me out, okay?”

  “Freaked you out?” he repeated and now the storm clouds were in his eyes, turning them to slate grey. He put his hands on his hips, assuming a warrior stance. “You will explain yourself.”

  A reluctant smile sprang to my lips. I could hear the word he hadn’t tagged on, You will explain yourself, boy. He was trying to be civilised.

  “It felt too good.”

  His brows rose.

  I ducked my head. “No one ever bothered to do that for me before,” I muttered, hitting closer to the truth this time.

  “Bothered?” Frey looked perplexed. “To pleasure you?”

  “I got off fine,” I said. “Don’t go feeling sorry for me.”

  “I do not.” He laughed. “Now you are angry. That is good. I do not want a boy for my own who does not value himself.”

  “I’m not your boy. Reality check, Conan, this is temporary.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Do not call me by another’s name. I do not like it. When you look at me, when you love me, you should only see me, feel me.”

  I was surprised the big lug didn’t thump his chest.

  “Christ, can’t you see that’s the problem?”

  “Look at me, Bailey!” he thundered.

  “All right, all right, don’t yell! You’ll bring the roof down.”

  “I do not care. If your house is splinters around us, I see only you.” He dragged me close. “And you will see me.”

  I was seared by his hot blue gaze. Naked again.

  I curled my arms around him, hid my face against his neck.

  This he allowed and I squeezed my eyes shut until they didn’t sting. Jesus, he really was turning me into a girl, though that was pretty sexist since my girl friends were all ass-kickers.

  Listening to the steady thump-thump of his heartbeat soothed me. I couldn’t resist licking him, savouring his salty flavour. His silken hair, damp on the ends, brushed my skin.

  “Tell me why you pulled away from me. Do it now, Bailey.”

  “You’re incredibly bossy, you know that?”

  “I know what is good for my boy.”

  “Oh really? Let’s add on arrogant.”

  “Bailey.” He shook me. “I will know you.”

  “Damn it… You’re leaving. All right? Enough said.” I shoved my hair out of my eyes. “I want you safe and I want you with me.” Always. Shit. I sucked in a deep breath. I couldn’t think that way.

  His swordsman’s roughened palm cupped my cheek. Then he nuzzled me, his cheek to mine. Geez, it was dopey, but I liked it.

  His gesture told me he didn’t want to leave me either.

  He cleared his throat. It sounded vaguely like the blast of a fog horn. “You liked my mouth upon you?”

  Colour burnt my cheeks. Oh, hell, now I was blushing?

  “I liked it. Too much,” I said.

  He studied me. “I would have your honesty and your honour.”

  He wanted me to bare my feelings. He could have made me do that by taking me in his mouth again, but he wanted me to talk to him.

  “It was the hottest thing I’ve ever felt,” I confessed.

  He lifted me back onto my bed easily. Holding my gaze, he spread my thighs. My balls hung heavy, my cock hard and needy. I felt his breath on my opening. He drew out the moment, stroking my legs, kissing the mole above my knee.

  “Please,” I whimpered. “Frey, I need it.”

  “Tell me,” he commanded. “I want to hear you.”

  He stabbed into me with his tongue, hot, wet, ravenous.

  “Oh, fuck!” If he’d wanted to hear me, he’d got his wish. I think they could hear me in Tibet. “Frey!”

  Frey wouldn’t be rushed. He held me down when my hips lifted, forced me to take it as he lavished his attention on me, totally focused on tasting, sucking, making me loose and slutty.

  I could feel him trembling.

  “I can’t!” My cock felt the lash every time he entered me with his tongue. I was going to shatter. I was closer to something that scared the shit out of me.

  Him.

  “Beautiful boy,” he whispered, face strained. “Give.”

  I came, rolled under by this huge wave of love, coming just for him. I screamed as he penetrated me at last, gentle, so he rocked against me. He gave a war cry, taking me, his neck corded.

  “I don’t want to leave your body.” He leant his forehead against mine. “If I had claimed you in my time, I would have chained you, kept you.”

  His words weren’t exactly a Hallmark card, but I felt his heart thudding against mine, his hand gripping mine.

  “What am I going to do now I’ve met the perfect historical romance hero?”

  He grinned, a slash of satisfaction on his sweaty face. “I have ruined you for all other men. Candy said I would do such.”

  “Candy had a lot to say,” I grumbled. “I’ll be sure to get even with her.”

  The phone by my bed rang. I caught the portable. “Yo!”

  “Moore, Jesus, what the fuck did you do to our door? It looks like you used a battering ram on it. Did you run out of coffee this morning?” my roommate, Jared Drake, groused.

  “Shit!” I stiffened. “You didn’t try to go into our residence, did you, Jair?”

  “Nope, me and Miles are standing outside it right now. Uh, with Candy.”

  Candy. I wasn’t surprised she’d shown up just when Jared had. She had an extra stalking sense when it came to Jared.

  “Did the john back up? It stinks.”

  “No. Look, you better come out to my place. Don’t try to go in there.”

  “No worries.” I heard the disgust in Jared’s voice. “Even after days of camping, I have no desire to go in there and try to shower.”

  “You can shower here. Bring Candy and Miles. I’ll make us all dinner.”

  “You with this dude Candy’s bent our ear about, the, uh, Norse guy?”

  I smiled at the discomfort in Jared’s voice. “He’s here.”

  “Okay, we’re coming, but no kissing and crap in front of us. Home rules apply.”

  “Home rules,” I agreed. We had a rule that if we wanted to bring someone home to our dorm and make out, it was fine, but no one could do it in the shared space. I had no desire to see Jared or Miles with any of the campus honeys they brought home and they felt the same way about my men, not that there had been many.

  After I cut the call I looked at Frey. His arms were folded and he was waiting on me. It reminded me that he really took this guide-business seriously. He trusted my judgement.

  “That was one of my roommates, Jared,” I told him. “You’ve been wearing some of his clothe
s. I told him not to go into the dorm room.”

  “That was wise.” Frey nodded.

  “I was also thinking…” I bit my lip and he leaned close and did it for me. “Mmmm.” I blinked. “I was thinking that Jair and Miles and Candy could be reinforcements.”

  Frey cocked his head. “There has always been the guardian and the guide.”

  I raised a hand. “Listen, hear me out. First of all, from what you’ve said, sometimes the guide and the guardian don’t exactly survive.”

  “No.”

  “Second, my friends…we’ve been through a lot together. You know, first year college when you feel like you’ll never belong? Or, maybe you don’t—”

  “I know what it is to have no place, no friends,” Frey said.

  “Of course you do. You lost your village. I trust my friends, Frey. And with all this stuff happening, it just makes sense to ask for help. Jared and Miles are anthropology majors. That means they study different cultures, mythology. It might be useful.” I couldn’t resist reaching out and loosening one of his braids, which was messy. I smoothed his slick hair, re-braided it. He raised his chin, absorbing my attention as if I were his servant boy.

  “Candy is a history and English double major. Last semester she read Beowulf.”

  “Stories tell us how to conduct ourselves, how to face death.”

  “Um, yeah, but maybe we can find a way to avoid the whole death thing. That’s my point.”

  “If your friends come, you must dress yourself.” Frey gave me a scandalised look, as if I was so sexy I’d drive them mad with lust if they got a look at my bare ass.

  I laughed. “I plan on it.” I went to my chest of drawers, rifled through until I found boxers. When Frey just lounged on the bed, I sent him a pair that had been a gift, and too big on me. He looked at the dancing elves and the chubby, laughing Santa on the boxers with clear suspicion.

  “I would look better thus!” He gestured to his naked body. “You make sport of me, making me wear such uncomely clothing.”

  “Come on, the tie-dye had the side benefit of making you visible in the dark. And you’re going to wear those because I say so,” I told him. “I’m the guide, remember?”

  Chapter Ten

  “How long will it take your friends to muster their steeds and come to us here?” Frey asked with a gleam in his eye that gave me a restless, prickly feeling in my lower back.

  “Muster their steeds?” I laughed and realised that I’d laughed more with Frey than any guy I’d ever dated. My men were for sex, for scratching that itch, but it was my friends I laughed with.

  Until Frey.

  He looked annoyed, as if he knew I found his phrasing quaint. Frey had a lot of pride.

  “You know what it is I ask, Bailey.” He shook me. “You know why.”

  “Again?” But I didn’t mind. Geez, he really did have the stamina of a warrior and he couldn’t seem to get enough of touching me, having me.

  “You will be my seiðmaðr?” he whispered, kissing the side of my face. I closed my eyes, shivering at the thready, deliberate tease of his touch. I’d just come, but now I was heating up again. Why couldn’t I get enough of him?

  “What does that name mean, anyway?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, given his outdated ideas, but I was too curious not to ask.

  “A man who is a woman to other warriors.”

  “Okay, we need to talk about your outdated perspective—”

  “Would you not like the role of my slave?”

  “Depends. If it meant washing out your socks in a stream or something, I’ll pass.”

  He lifted me onto his lap and then peeled down my boxers at the back, exposing my rear end. He ran his hand over my ass, caressing me. I hardened, needy again.

  “It would mean that if I wanted to take you as a man does, you would make yourself available to me.”

  Okay, that was a sexy idea.

  “So I’d be walking through your war camp, or whatever, and you’d grab me and—”

  “I would do this.” He swatted my ass.

  “You have a gift…” I moaned as his hand found and stroked me. “For role-playing.”

  His lips curved. “I do not play at mastering you.”

  He spanked me.

  He didn’t ask me if it was a kink of mine, or negotiate rules or ask me for a safe word. He just…did it.

  “Hey, ouch, this is—” It was a real spanking, intense, dominant. His hand warmed my ass without compromise, as if I were his slave, his boy. I squirmed, trying to soften it, trying to get off his lap. He struck me hard enough that tears stung my eyes. “Hey, this is me saying, no, asshole!” I hollered.

  He stopped, but I knew it wasn’t because of my protests. He shifted me so my sore bottom rubbed against his thighs. He was hard. Spanking me had excited him so that the length of his erection was outlined in a wet bloom against his boxers. His face was flushed.

  “You don’t spank someone when he says no!” I shoved him.

  He pulled me in for a kiss. “Stop!” I punched his shoulder. I bit him.

  I wrapped my legs around his waist.

  He laughed and took my hard dick in his hand, caressing it possessively.

  “That’s not how we do things today! You have to talk to me, there are rules—”

  “I will spank you when I wish it,” he said. “I will do it in front of others if it is my pleasure to do so.”

  I could only stare at him, my heart thudding and my cock so hard I thought I’d die. My socialisation said this was all wrong but my primal self… I loved him. Oh shit. I’d gone and fallen for him. And my body had been made to be dominated by his.

  He knew it. He wasn’t going to back off.

  “Bailey?” He wasn’t asking me if I was okay with this. He was asking if I understood his rules.

  “It’s hard for me.” I couldn’t meet his eyes.

  “I will own you. I will not have you hold yourself back from me,” he said.

  My arms were around him, tight, so tight. “I love the way you are with me,” I whispered. “I’ve never been so turned on in my life.” My face burnt, but I couldn’t hold back. I wanted to lie in the dirt with his foot on my neck. Oh, Jesus!

  He didn’t do something an experienced Dom would do, like order me to kneel—because this wasn’t role playing for him. I was his seiðmaðr. As long as he was with me, he’d do what he pleased with me.

  “The spanking hurt.” I couldn’t help the spike of resentment.

  “It was meant to.” He’d meant to shock me from my complacency, from thinking I could shield myself from him. Casually, he pushed me to the floor, onto my hands and knees.

  I looked over my shoulder at him, watched as he tugged down his boxers and then mounted me. One hand went to the back of my neck, pushing my head to the floor while my bottom stayed up.

  He thrust inside me and I heard him grunt in pleasure.

  He was making use of his boy, making his point that now I was his, he would take me for his own pleasure when he wanted.

  I was wild to be taken, my cock aching, sensitised.

  He was big and not easy for me to accommodate, but I did, the rough thrusts inflaming me so I scratched the hardwood.

  He made no effort to touch me, to cater to me. This was all for him.

  I loved that. I loved everything about being spanked and then fucked hard.

  He gave another deep grunt of satisfaction and a rush of hot spend filled me. It was enough, along with his seeming indifference to whether I climaxed.

  I came, squeezing his length, contractions of pleasure so long, painful…needed.

  After, he picked me up, cradled me tenderly. My ass was sore, but that rawness was a reminder. He wanted me to feel his possession, to feel the transition we’d made from friends to lovers on his terms.

  He was kind now.

  “I’d rather you never did that in front of my friends,” I said.

  He studied me and then nodded. “It would hurt you.
I do not wish to hurt you, beloved boy.”

  “No, that’s not what you want. You want to keep me safe.” My throat burnt. “You’d die for me.”

  “Of course,” he said, stroking my hair.

  “I…love you,” I whispered.

  He nodded again, as if his boy should love him.

  I laughed shakily. “It’s crazy. We just met. I shouldn’t let myself feel this way. When you have to leave, if you get hurt, it will destroy me.”

  “Why shouldn’t love destroy?” he asked calmly.

  The ball in my chest ached. “You’ll let it destroy you?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  He wasn’t telling me ‘Bailey, I love you desperately, let’s build a tree house together’, but he was telling me he loved me.

  I’d been empty and longing for someone. All my life. I’d wanted love to make me feel safe, to make me feel like a wonderful lover.

  He’d given me love and it was ripping me apart.

  “Lord Byron.” I gave Jared my best formal bow when he entered my kitchen. His dark, brooding gaze lightened and he shoved some of that equally dark hair out of his eyes. He gave me the finger.

  Candy and Miles came next, Miles’ unshaven jaw and bed hair a match for Jared’s.

  “We shower and then we eat,” Jared announced. “And then we talk about why we came home to an apartment that smells like a sewer.”

  I looked at Frey, who was calmly chopping up the herbs I’d found growing on the windowsill in the kitchen. They’d needed a little TLC, soaking in a basin to suck up some moisture, but they were probably safer to harvest than risking going back to the spooky greenhouse.

  “Do you sense anything?” Frey asked me.

  “Nothing more than I’m tired and hungry,” I said.

  He looked outdoors at the fog that continued to writhe through the woods like something from a Hollywood smoke machine. At the moment the big evil we were facing seemed content to just play with the scenery.

  “Take your shower, boys,” I said.

  But when I looked over my shoulder, Jared and Miles were already gone. Candy was chewing her lip, looking after them.