“Right,” Cyrus said. “My place it is.”
Mark felt his face opening in a smile. He was doing this—he was going home with a man! And not just any man, but Cyrus. He couldn’t explain what drew him to Cyrus, but it was more than just looks. Maybe memories of the night of the fire, when Cyrus had helped him down that ladder. He’d encouraged Mark despite Mark’s fear of heights, and he hadn’t made Mark feel silly at all for that fear. He’d been nothing but understanding.
And he was freaking hot.
Mark cleared his throat. “I’m going to finish my beer and introduce you to my friend Jenny over there, and her boyfriend James. Then I’m going to let you take me to your place where you may ravish me.”
Cyrus laughed, and oh, Mark wished he could record it to listen to again and again on repeat. It was loud, throaty, and so sexy. That laugh could probably put Viagra out of business.
***
The drive to Cyrus’s house was long, and wasn’t made any faster by the fact that it had started to snow. Mark started wondering just how far out of town Cyrus lived.
“First snow of winter,” Mark said, trying to calm his nerves by talking.
“Yeah. What’s your favorite season?” Cyrus asked.
“Summer or fall. I like the heat.”
“I do, too.”
“That makes sense,” Mark said, “you being a fire fighter, and all.” He looked around at the interior of Cyrus’s truck. The cab was tidy, like it had just been detailed, and rock played quietly from the speakers. “Just how far out in the sticks do you live, anyway?”
“We’ll be there soon,” Cyrus said, reaching over the console to squeeze Mark’s thigh. “I like my privacy, so I live a ways outside of Prospect.”
“Seems so,” Mark said with a nervous laugh. He couldn’t believe he was doing this—going home with a near-stranger—but he knew he wouldn’t have a single regret. Something about Cyrus made him feel safe, safer than he’d felt in five years since the Dragon Floods.
When they pulled in to the driveway of an upscale cabin-style home, Mark’s breath came out in a whoosh. “Wow.”
“You like it?” Cyrus asked.
“It’s amazing.” The “cabin” was huge and stretched back into the trees almost as if they were a blanket, protecting it. Or a cave, sheltering it. Subtle outdoor lighting illuminated the front yard and drive. Although the home itself was sided in natural-toned wood, stone seemed to be the predominant theme of the décor, with a wide, flagstone path, a rock wall bordering the drive, and the granite statue of a giant winged serpent emerging from a pool of water. Everything was covered in the purest white dusting of snow. “That’s some scary thing to have in a bird bath,” Mark said.
Chuckling, Cyrus got out of the car and came around to get Mark’s door. “You want the tour?” he asked, helping Mark out like a gentleman.
Mark stepped forward, leaning into Cyrus’s embrace. Next to Cyrus’s mouth, he whispered, “Maybe later.”
The heat coming from Cyrus’s skin was intoxicating. Mark kept still, wishing he could rub his face against Cyrus’s neck, and wishing he were brave enough to move slightly to the left and take that first kiss.
Cyrus moved first, his pace slow and controlled as he bent slightly to take Mark’s lips with his own. Lust and heat moved like fire through Mark’s veins. It was as if he’d lost control of his limbs because without thought he wrapped his arms around Cyrus’s waist and pulled him in closer. He couldn’t help the moan that escaped his lips.
“Want you. So bad,” Cyrus whispered.
“I’m all yours,” Mark whispered back.
Cyrus tugged him forward. “No tour, then. The only place I’m taking you is straight to my bedroom.”
“Can’t wait,” Mark said.
Once inside the house, the huge entryway and living room were shadowed blurs in Mark’s peripheral vision as he allowed Cyrus to lead him along. He kept his gaze on Cyrus’s porn star ass encased in jeans that were tight, but not too tight. Damn. Cyrus’s ass made him want to bite it, and maybe do some squats to improve his own ass.
“Your ass is inspirational,” Mark said.
Cyrus turned, smiling, and pushed Mark against the wall. “Your ass made it hard for me to walk down that ladder the other night. My face was right there.”
“Oh yeah?” Mark asked. He didn’t have any brain power left for witty responses.
“Yeah.” Cyrus leaned down and pressed his lips against Mark’s.
Mark reached around, not for a hug, but to pull Cyrus toward him by his ass. He kneaded the perfect, muscular globes. “Are you a top or a bottom?”
“Usually I’m a top. You?”
“Versatile.”
“Perfect.” Cyrus sank to his knees in front of Mark. “I’ve been wanting to put you in my mouth since I first met you.”
It was hard to breathe, and Mark needed all of his concentration just to keep himself standing. He leaned back against the wall, which helped. Cyrus pulled open Mark’s belt, then unfastened Mark’s jeans. He reached in, his touch scorching, and ran his hand over Mark’s cock.
Mark was already harder than ever, and he twitched in Cyrus’s hand. “Oh, God,” he moaned.
“Nah, you can call me Cyrus.” Cyrus’s eyes twinkled up at him as he pulled Mark’s cock out of his boxers. When Cyrus stuck his tongue out and swiped it against the tip, Mark nearly came right then and there. “I know this cock,” Cyrus whispered. “I think I tasted it in my dreams.”
Mark moaned again and leaned his head back against the wall as Cyrus took him in his hot mouth. That heat, that tongue wrapping around him, swirling against the underside of the head—Mark thought maybe he’d gone to heaven.
Then Cyrus stood up. “Here or the bedroom?”
“Uhhhh.” Mark shook his head, trying to concentrate. He was out of control with lust, and his brain was short-circuiting. Already he was making whimpering noises and futilely trying to push Cyrus back down to delivering on the promises his mouth had made.
“Here it is, then,” Cyrus said with a grin. He pushed Mark’s pants down further, then unbuckled his own belt and shoved his own pants down.
Mark felt his mouth drop open in surprise. “That will never fit,” he whispered.
“Trust me,” Cyrus said. “You said you’re versatile?”
“Shit, I don’t think—”
“Relax, lover. We’ll go slow, and you’ll love it. But if at any time you want me to stop, we’ll stop.”
Mark nodded, touched at the sweetness in Cyrus’s words.
Cyrus grinned devilishly. “Besides, I promise you won’t want to stop.”
Without a word, he took Mark’s face in his hands. Tenderly, like the dearest, most devoted lover. He pressed his lips to Mark’s in a way that called to something deep within Mark. Something beastly, something playful, something wicked. Mark gasped, kissing Cyrus back until he was panting again and clawing at Cyrus’s back.
Without warning, Cyrus broke away and spun Mark around so Mark’s face was to the wall. Mark heard the clicking sound of a bottle of lube, then felt it trickle between his cheeks. Oh, no, this was it. That monster cock was going to be entering him and he didn’t think it would fit.
Cyrus warmed him up with his fingers, first, and Mark groaned at the sensitivity there. With his other hand, Cyrus stroked Mark’s cock, and Mark’s hips thrust forward at the pleasure. Then back again, onto Cyrus’s fingers.
They were both breathing heavily. Cyrus pressed another finger into him, and Mark cried out—not with pain, but with pleasure—and Cyrus gently bit his shoulder.
“That’s it, lover. I know you can take more.”
Mark felt his eyes rolling back into his head. It felt so good. And when Cyrus replaced his fingers with his cock, sheathed in a condom, Mark thought he’d pass out from the sensation. So full, so full. He was pinned in place. Cyrus penetrating him from behind, and circling his dick in front with his hand, slowly jacking him off in time to his thrusts.
It wasn’t long before their thrusts got faster. Cyrus moved behind him rapidly, and Mark couldn’t stop himself from grunting from the pressure. It was building inside of him like a fire that had grown out of control. That beastly, large creature in Mark’s chest roared, and Mark roared with it as he came all over Cyrus’s hand. Two more thrusts, and Cyrus was pulsing inside of Mark, grunting as he pressed Mark into the wall.
Mark shuddered as Cyrus pulled out of him. Cyrus pressed a single tender kiss against Mark’s shoulder, and Mark turned around, watching Cyrus remove the condom and tie it off.
“That was…” Mark trailed off. He couldn’t think of any words.
“That was amazing,” Cyrus said with a look of wonderment. “I’m not too proud to tell you that it’s never been so great for me with anyone.”
Mark nodded. “Same here.”
That monstrous thing inside him—it had something to do with the amazing sex, but he didn’t know how to tell Cyrus about it. Nothing like that had ever happened before.
Cyrus gave him that crooked, devilish grin once more. “Shower?”
Mark pretended to consider the offer. “Does that mean you might be up for going again?”
Cyrus pointed to his semi-hard cock. It was still gigantic. “Hell yeah.”
Cyrus
Cyrus woke up to the sweet scent of Mark—smoke and apples. He wished he could make a cologne out of that scent, or maybe an air freshener. He’d spray it all over his sheets.
The two of them had made love all night long. First against the wall in the hallway, which was going to be forever in Cyrus’s memory as one of the hottest moments of his life—Mark’s groans and moans as Cyrus had pressed into him, the tight way his ass had massaged Cyrus’s cock…damn, he was already hard and getting harder again.
He pressed his lips against Mark’s bicep. Beautiful man. Cyrus could cherish Mark forever.
No. He made himself shake away the thought. Nothing lasts forever, and especially not something with a man who has so much reason to hate dragons. It could never work between them.
Cyrus’s regrets were bringing him down. He kissed Mark’s forehead right beneath those cherubic golden curls, then slid quietly out of bed.
He’d make Mark breakfast, something like bacon, eggs, and maybe waffles. All the guys at the station loved it when it was Cyrus’s turn to cook breakfast. While Cyrus could hold his own for dinner as long as it wasn’t much more complicated than pasta with sauce from a jar, he was an expert at breakfast. He wondered if Mark liked eggs benedict, or maybe crepes, or if that would be working too hard to impress him.
Fuck it, he wanted to impress Mark. Yes, it was painful getting so close to another man and then not being able to share his secrets, but Cyrus was willing to risk that pain for just another day with Mark. And if Mark stuck around, Cyrus was happy to risk that pain for as long as possible.
He mixed the eggs and flour together for crepes, all the while thinking. Maybe Mark would be free today. Cyrus wouldn’t mind taking him out toward the back of the property where there was a great hiking trail. It led to a small pond where a rock jutted over the water, perfect for resting on and watching the clouds breeze by.
Or if Mark wasn’t into nature, maybe they could go catch a movie. Go out to a fancy restaurant—always a nice option, especially since Cyrus wasn’t great at making dinner. Or maybe Mark would just want to stay in and they could snack on whatever was in the refrigerator and cupboards. Cyrus lost himself in thoughts of feeding Mark pieces of fruit one by one, and Mark sucking Cyrus’s fingers clean.
Yeah, the thought of losing Mark like he’d lost Jonas back in New York was terrifying, especially because he already cared for Mark in a way that felt far more profound than anything he’d felt for Jonas. But oh, the idea of spending more time with Mark was too much of a temptation to resist.
Mark
When Mark woke up, he knew exactly where he was. Not Jenny’s couch. Not his old apartment. He was in Cyrus’s bed, and he didn’t think he could belong anywhere else now.
On the nightstand, his phone buzzed with an incoming text. Jenny, probably, checking up on him.
Jenny: OMG are you okay?
Jenny: Have you heard?
Jenny: Call me. Wait, you’re still with Hottie McFiremanpants, aren’t you? Check the news, okay? And call me!
Mark sat up. His right arm was completely numb because he’d slept at a weird angle, unused to sharing a bed with someone. He stretched, feeling soreness in his body that he hadn’t felt in a long time. That had been an incredible night of sex. Cyrus might have ruined him for all other men.
He didn’t much care about being ruined for all other men. He just wanted Cyrus.
“Ow ow ow,” he muttered as his arm started to wake up. He held it as still as possible and texted Jenny back one-handed. What’s going on?
Jenny: Just check the news.
Infuriating best friend. Mark huffed impatiently and pulled on his jeans with one hand. For the first time, he had a chance to look at Cyrus’s bedroom—last night he’d been a little distracted. There was an en-suite bathroom, which Mark quickly used. The walls of the bedroom were a dark gray, and the windows were shrouded in silvery-colored curtains. The bed itself was huge, a California King, with a black set of sheets and duvet. A dusty blue area rug covered most of the floor, which was a wood stained so dark that it looked black.
Maybe Cyrus had been a bear in a previous life, because it looked to Mark that Cyrus was trying to live in a cave.
Chuckling to himself, Mark made his way down the hall. He saw the spot where he and Cyrus had fucked against the wall—identifiable from their shoes left on the floor. His body heated at the memory and he felt horny all over again. Wow, he had it bad for this guy.
Now that his arm wasn’t asleep anymore, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened up his daily news app. What he saw there nearly made him drop the phone.
Dragons.
DRAGONS ARE AMONG US, the headline read. It was a major news station. THIS IS NOT A HOAX.
The dragons weren’t all killed in the nuclear onslaught after the Dragon Floods. Worse, they are living among us, looking just like humans. Below is footage taken in Los Angeles yesterday. Please note, the recording contains disturbing images and viewer discretion is advised.
Beneath that was film footage that looked like it had been taken from somebody’s social media account. Mark didn’t want to look, but he had to. Reluctantly, he tapped the little triangle to play the footage.
The videographer was an amateur, and it looked like he’d just been scanning city sights in the late afternoon. A fight broke out in one corner of the frame, and the person holding the camera zoomed in on it. Two men were arguing. The smaller one seemed to be getting angrier and angrier. Suddenly, his skin shimmered. There was no better word for it; he looked as if he were surrounded in a bright green aura of light.
Mark gasped as the aura exploded outward. The small, angry man was gone, and in his place stood a roaring dragon. Screams erupted from the crowd that had been growing around the argument, and people fled in all directions. The video cut to shaky views of the sidewalk and then went black.
Unable to do anything except panic, Mark ran down the hall to the living room. “Cyrus!” he shouted. “Cyrus!”
“In here,” Cyrus called. “You okay?”
Mark ran into the room off the living room, but his toe caught on the edge of the center island. He pitched forward and his hand landed on the stovetop. It was warm, but didn’t burn him, so he stood up and breathlessly said, “Dragons.”
“Mark, is your hand okay?” Cyrus grabbed Mark’s arm and looked at the skin on his palm.
Mark shrugged. “It’s fine. But Cyrus—there are dragons! They can look like—they can look like people!”
Cyrus looked from the stove to Mark’s hand, but then shook his head. “Tell me everything,” he said, kneeling in front of Mark.
Mark sank to the floor next
to him and showed Cyrus his phone.
Together they watched the video again and again, Mark shaking in Cyrus’s arms.
“What does it mean?” Mark finally asked.
“Things are…much different than everybody had thought,” Cyrus said carefully, slowly.
“It’s one thing to think they’re all nuked, find out one survived, and nuke it, too,” Mark said. “But how do we nuke them all when they can look like us?”
Cyrus pulled away, and Mark felt bereft.
“Sorry,” Mark said. “I’m getting intense again, aren’t I?”
He couldn’t quite understand the look on Cyrus’s face. Cyrus’s beautiful gray eyes were in shadows, and Mark had the uncomfortable feeling that his words had put those shadows there.
Running his hand over his dark hair, Cyrus said, “Look, last night was amazing. I enjoyed every second of being with you. But maybe things are moving too fast.”
Mark couldn’t believe it. This was the line he’d been thinking it was his job to say, not Cyrus’s. Only Mark had changed his mind—he wasn’t going to say it because he wanted nothing more than to be with Cyrus.
Hot tears gathered in his eyes, and he turned quickly. No way would he let Cyrus see how much he was hurting. “Yeah, sure. I agree.”
“Look, I’ll call you a cab,” Cyrus said.
Mark walked slowly from the room. “I’ll just wait in the drive,” he called over his shoulder. He wanted Cyrus to argue that it was too cold outside and Mark should wait indoors, but Cyrus didn’t say anything.
Mark didn’t wait long, but his feet were nearly freezing by the time the cab arrived.
When the cab dropped him off at home, the driver said the ride was already paid for. Mark passed him some bills for the tip, then walked up to Jenny’s apartment, miserable to his bones.
Cyrus
Cyrus slammed his hand against the kitchen island. “Fuck!” he shouted. “Fuck!”
Not only were dragons now outed as being able to shift into humans, but Mark knew, and Mark wished he could nuke them.
It would never work out, and Cyrus had been a fool. “Oh, you’d risk everything for more time with Mark, huh?” he taunted himself. “The pain is worth it?”
The Dragon’s Flight: Gay Paranormal Romance Page 9
