Yorukaze shivered again, this time from anticipation. Willem's lovemaking picked up a hard bite when he had been in a temper, something Kaz craved desperately at times. The anger he would rather forego. The aftereffects could be delicious.
"Willem? Are you all right, love?" he called out as he edged down the steps.
A holocaust of graceful swans, made of bits of scrap metal joined together in amazing ways, lay about Willem's feet as if someone had shot them from the sky. He sat in a ladder-back chair, head in his hands, fingers fisted in his hair.
Yorukaze approached cautiously and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. When he wasn't shrugged off, he set both hands on that broad expanse and started kneading over-taut muscles. "Not the best day, I take it."
"It sucked," Willem grated out. "Nothing I try is working. I want them to look like they're soaring over the marsh, not like swans on sticks."
The hands unfisted and Willem let them fall into his lap. He seemed to be relaxing under the massage, so Yorukaze thought a little teasing might be safe.
"Maybe you need a distraction. You might think of a solution while you fuck me, esp--" He broke off with a yelp when Willem seized his wrist and hauled him around to face him.
Willem snarled through clenched teeth. "When I make love to you, I sure as hell don't think about anything else."
Yorukaze struggled against the tight grip. He wanted to say something angry and biting, but the still unfamiliar sting filled the backs of his eyes and his throat felt as if someone had shoved a pipe down it.
"No, oh, no." Willem's grip eased, though he snaked an arm around Yorukaze's waist. "Don't cry, Kaz. Oh, shit, please don't cry."
A gentle tug tumbled Yorukaze into his lover's lap, where, naturally, he burst into tears.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart, I'm so sorry." Willem rocked him and petted him, his anger apparently melted. "You were just trying to cheer me up. I'm a monster. I'm sorry. Don't cry, don't cry."
He wrapped his arms around Willem's neck and allowed the sobs to rise from his belly for a few, precious minutes. After all the centuries of not being able to weep, it swept over him like a cleansing flood. Willem seemed to sense he was no longer the direct cause of this storm, and held him tighter as if he could protect Yorukaze from every agony of his past.
In many ways, he did just that.
When the sobs died to a few hitching breaths, he lifted his head from Willem's shoulder, wiping his eyes. "I'm not sure where that came from. Forgive me."
"You all right, hon?"
"Yes, much better."
Willem set Yorukaze on the chair and dropped to his knees. "You know what I want now?"
"Dinner?"
"Soon. There's a roast in the Crock-Pot. It'll keep."
"You want... " Yorukaze squirmed, his dress pants suddenly too tight as Willem continued to gaze up at him so intently. "Could you just tell me what you want?"
Willem's hands caressed up his thighs and stopped at his waist to undo his belt. "Something I couldn't have before when you were a kasha."
Nimble fingers made quick work of his fly, and then Willem slid a hand under his butt to lift him and pull his pants and bikini briefs down to his knees. He took Yorukaze's burgeoning erection in his fist and gave it one slow pump up and down.
"See? No spines. So now I can do this without hurting my tongue." Willem leaned in to lick up one side of his cock and down the other. Yorukaze's head thumped onto the back of the chair on a long moan.
"And this." Gently, Willem rolled back the foreskin and took the engorged crown between his lips with soft suction. "And even this."
Without further warning, he plunged down and swallowed Yorukaze whole. He cried out, his hips bucking up off the chair. Dear gods. He had never felt anything like this. The wet heat, the heavy suction Willem gave him as he pulled back up, drove him mad with lust.
He dug his nails into Willem's arms as he thrust up, fucking Willem's mouth as hard as his lover allowed. Willem urged him onward with little moans and laps of his velvet tongue, making no sounds of protest when the head breached the ring of his throat. The tight constriction drew a wild cry from Yorukaze, one that gave way to a howl when Willem pressed against the smooth skin behind his balls.
Black flecks whirling across his vision, he came hard, shooting down Willem's throat with such force, he wondered how the man stayed upright. He collapsed against the chair; Willem's hand on his chest the only thing keeping him upright, as Willem's sucking became softer and softer, drawing the last pulses from him in little earthquakes.
"Willem... oh, my love... " He was only half-aware as Willem put his clothes to rights and lifted him in his arms. He began to revive, though, as they came up the stairs and the scent of dinner reached him. Roast, potatoes...
"Peas?"
"You need your veggies."
"But vegetable are for rabbits."
"And humans. Would you rather brussel sprouts?"
Yorukaze growled in disgust.
"That's what I thought. Eat your peas and I'll even pay attention when you show me your new shoes later."
He whispered in Willem's ear. "It's a new pair of boots."
"Oh." Willem's heart beat a little faster against Yorukaze's palm. "Maybe you could model them for me, then?"
"With pleasure."
"And maybe you could keep them on when I take you to bed?"
"My dear Willem, what else is a good pair of boots for?"
Author's Note
The town of Honeybole, Pennsylvania is not, to my knowledge, a real town. It is, however, an amalgam of many such towns in Pennsylvania's former mining belt and does reflect their plight. While many towns in the eastern half of the state have undergone their own miniature renaissance by this time, many still struggle. It is the author's hope that helpful kashas will move into all of them someday.
Angel Martinez
Angel Martinez is the erotic fiction pen name of a writer of several genres. Her experiences as a soldier, a nurse, a banker, and an underpaid corporate drone give her a broad view of the world and a deep appreciation for the astounding variety of people on this small planet.
She currently lives part time in the hectic sprawl of northern Delaware and full time inside her head. She has one husband of over twenty years, one son, two cats, a love of all things beautiful and a terrible addiction to the consumption of both knowledge and chocolate.
To learn more about Angel, please visit: http://www.freewebs.com/angelwrites/
* * * *
Don't miss A Different Breed, by Angel Martinez,
available at AmberAllure.com!
Josh hunts vampires with relentless, cold precision until the night he confronts a gorgeous hunk of vamp in the woods outside Ithaca. Richard destroys all of Josh's prejudices about vampires in the first few moments of conversation, and the sexual sparks between them ignite almost as quickly. Richard offers the stability Josh never had, while Josh offers the healing Richard needs so desperately.
But it's nearly impossible just to walk away from a life of violence. An attack one evening leaves a friend in the hospital, Richard with a bullet through his chest, muttering about strange creatures, and Josh fighting to piece together what really happened. Are Richard's nightmare attackers real, or is Josh's favorite vamp losing his mind? Is there a reasonable explanation or has the hunter now become prey?
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Boots Page 10
