by Rie Warren
He was leaner and taller than me, but I could tell his muscles matched mine. And no fucker did that. I would break Leon in two. Not this one. Only…damn. He had something I couldn’t put my finger on, but I wanted to. And my mouth. Sealing around his cock.
“See that?” He slid behind me, right where I never let anyone stay as long as I could draw a breath or my SIGs.
I steeled my impulse to pat him down—for more than just sidearms—the soft stubble of his cheek gliding against the clean shave of mine. My heart jackhammered; something in my leathers grew steelier than my instincts.
The corner of his lips nearly tasted mine when he spoke. “Over there.”
Over there was a table upon which a black-haired woman lay as an all-you-could-eat meal. Her skirt was hiked up to her waist while a lithe little number rolled their breasts together, gyrating their bare pussies in slow undulations. The muscles in her thighs trembled. The moans of the mountee were buried under the all-natural cleft of a voluptuous redhead kneeling in front of her face. Kisses were traded between wet loins and mouths and back again.
I stood my ground when he stepped closer, circling strong arms around my waist, rumbling, “That’s nice, isn’t it? Reckon if I wanted, I could go on up there, get my cock out, and slide right into one of those warm, wet pussies, starting with that pretty lady on the bottom, get her good and hot first.”
Normally the idea of a man on top of a woman hardly got more than a “do what you gotta do, dude” from me, but the idea of him fucking a female rankled me all the way to my nads. My hands clamped over his, ready to tear the teasing asshole off me, but Blondie held tight and continued with the mindfuck that kept me erect and enraged.
“Then I’d slide out and go to work on that sweetie on top. Bang her until the table rocked, and I’d wanna mouthful of the redhead’s cunt at the same time.”
His harsh, sexual words in that soft accent had my teeth grinding, my muscles locking down, my legs rocking, and my dick ready to rocket off.
“That’d be hot, if I was into it, right?”
“Whatever you say,” I growled.
His low chuckle sweeping across my straining neck, he brought me right against him. I felt his raging arousal for the women. He laughed again when I craned away, one step from doing him the favor of dislocating his arms from his shoulder sockets.
“But that’s not hot, big man.” He shifted, seating himself fully against my ass. “You are.”
My head dropped, and I groaned when his lips slid up the back of my neck, brushing into my buzz cut.
He pointed to the centerpiece, the St. Andrew’s cross, and dragged his mouth to my ear. “That’s what I like.”
The scene had varied, same Dom, different play pawn. A regular on the scene, the man must’ve had one in every pocket of his drawstring leathers. Now he wielded a quirt, and he broke a sweat, as did I.
Yeah, not going there either, so goodbye, sweetheart.
The only torture I dealt in was the kind I doled out, and it wasn’t kinky. It was all about getting the canaries to sing. “You into BDSM?”
“I’m talkin’ about cock.”
Fuck.
“I like the way his sub’s gets wider at the base. See that? See how hard he is? Imagine suckin’ that down your throat. Nice hook to it, too. Mmm.” His fingers triangulating my groin, he asked, “You like to suck cock?”
I was blown away. This shit didn’t happen to me. Sure, the “Hit-me-up, big boy” came hot, heavy, and often when I was at the Amphitheater, but my brisk “Go get fucked by a goat” glare took care of that. I was the aggressor.
His light finger work remained outside my blast zone. “What I really wanna see is yours.”
Well, he could see my cock, suck and get fucked by it, but first, I needed to show him I wasn’t some piece of fluff to be toyed with. I was a damn commander, not a cherry. Disengaging from him, I strolled to the Dom, feeling Blondie’s bemused stare drilling into my back with every step. I waited for the downstroke of the Dom’s whipping arm to have quiet words him.
You wanna be aggressive? Watch this.
I should’ve been doing more than jacking sub cock, but there weren’t a whole lot of other options. Most were paired up, tripled…Fuck, it was an all-out orgy. I certainly wasn’t gonna bend Leon over and bang him for Blondie’s pleasure. Although, if this was for his pleasure, there were probably better ways to go about it.
Whatever. It wasn’t as if we’d traded rings, not even cock rings for that matter.
Given the nod, I dropped to my knees, stroking the rigid length at face level and cupping the sub’s sacs. While his master was getting his swing on, I took a double-handed grip on that thick, virile flesh, keeping an eye on Blondie with every upward sweep and swipe across the tumescent cap. Coming down hard and fast, the quirt’s lashing clashed with the slow piston of my fists. We stretched the sub to the breaking point of pleasure and pain until sweat dripped, precome curled from his tip in thick teardrops, and his neck pulled back for a silent scream. Another slash, another full-length squeeze up his slick shaft, and the sub lowered his stance, spreading his legs, looking for permission to pour his semen into my palms.
Blondie’s eyes lost that hazy, lazy look. They were crystalline, possessing astonishing violence I knew from the occasional view in the mirror. He stormed toward us, fists clenched at his sides. I jerked faster, slipping up and down the rock-hard rod, relishing Blondie’s reaction.
He beckoned me away, his features stark. I took my time finishing up by polishing the flat of my palm around and around the dome of the sub’s cock. On my feet, I heard the distinct smack of cock to stomach followed by the wet suck of a palm to shaft. A fast report of lashes landing on flesh merged into untamed shouts when the sub released his seed all over the ground.
I wiped my hands on my leathers, glad at least the other man’s cock hadn’t been in my mouth. It would’ve been disrespectful to Blondie.
Hello, conscience, long time no see.
Stalking past the table of females in flagrante, steering away from Leon watching my exit, I motioned Blondie outside with a jerk of my head.
Beyond the escarpment, feathers of a warm breeze blew the steam from my frustrated stomp. A hand on my shoulder clenched and released and Blondie was so close when I spun around, his breath whirled over my forehead, a sweeter warm breeze than the one played by the trees.
He didn’t move back; instead he dipped his knees enough so our mouths were level, and his words were hot and pissed off. “You put on that show for me?”
“Nah. Just got tired of talking.”
His hands on my hips reeled me in. “How’d you like it if I pulled a stunt like that?”
“I don’t know. Did I blink and miss our Joining Ceremony?”
“Damn it!” My mention of the Company-approved marriage act unsettled him for all of a second or two. “Only cock you should be touching is mine.”
Double that.
A group of young men and women trudged past. Their uniform was black on black from their hair, kept long and uncut, to their clothing, shabby and unusual. Their heads were down as if in prayer, the murmurs they exchanged too quiet to make out. Worn lace and silks and shawls rustled in their wake like ghosts, leaving me with the bad whiff of Nomad in my nostrils.
With my hand clasped in his, Blondie led me farther away. His steps were precise, his eyes roaming. Mine did the same. The blank, black forest surrounded us, so different from Alpha.
A wooden march led us to a trio of tombstones. With a lowered head, he contemplated the stones whose inscriptions were mostly rubbed out with age and neglect. I made out the first letters of one name: HARM. A fitting warning given the way Blondie’s frown drew his fair eyebrows together.
Shaking his head, moving out of the semicircle, he called back, “You like kink?”
“I like sex.”
“You get it much?” In the faint glimmer from rigged halo lights, I saw his cheeks flush. “’Cause it looks lik
e you do.”
“You digging for illegal activities or offering?”
“I’m askin’ you a question. Those lips gonna loosen up for me?”
“No.” I was adept at denying myself. I’d done it all my life. All around us Spanish moss clung to the corkscrewing limbs of oaks sprouting with resurrection ferns. There was an old tarmac road parting the ruins from a rare lake whose surface shimmered under the moon. “I’m not answering any questions.”
The side of his mouth drawn in, he nodded. “Right. I got it.” He backed away, his eyes no longer vigilant but aimed at the ground.
I watched his retreat, powerfully aroused by him, feeling as lonely as I’d ever been. A combo that couldn’t be beat.
He jumped at the sound of impact when I brought my fist down hard on my thigh.
“Gonna regret this,” I muttered as I walked forward, sweeping my fingers across that strong jaw, rough with golden whiskers, and lifting my mouth.
“Oh Christ.” He moaned as my lips fastened on his. Curling his fingers around my ass, he fed from my lips. That was the only way to describe his hunger, our in-and-out lunges chasing the other’s tongue.
When my jacket dropped, so did any pretense of being a coldhearted, coolheaded warrior. I trapped him in my arms as he ran his fingertips around my waist once, twice, before dragging them inside the leather, molding my ass within broad palms.
“Yeah,” I rasped, crashing the rigid lengths of our cocks together.
With each roll across each other, he grunted and I moaned, pulling his bottom lip between mine. I shoved my hands into his hair and twisted the lengths between my fingers, angling his head to better fit the way I wanted to kiss him. With nothing but pure greed.
We parted by a paper-thin divide. Our lips plinked, pressed, pursued. Teased.
He stroked down my ass, his fingertip circling the star of flesh, pressing and drumming. “You like that, big man?”
My stomach clenched so fucking hard, cramps of lust ran all the way to my cockhead and down to my tightening balls. “Hell, yes.”
“Mmm, bet you do.” He made his way up my chest, tearing into my shirt. “Look at that.”
His palms rubbed up and down; then he did the same with his cheek, sending a smattering of kisses and seditious words onto the aroused nubs of my nipples. “Goddamn. You smell like sex, right here. Bet your cock smells even better. I’m gonna get every bit of you wet.”
He sucked on my pecs, gnawing away at the hard edges of muscle, meting out sexy punishment on my tight nipples. When he bit the sinews of my ribs and again at my stomach, I pushed him lower.
Working me out of zippers and buttons, he said, “Gonna make you come so hard.” He yanked my pants down my thighs, intent on my cock, which was so erect it was swollen at the tip.
A howl of need came from deep within my chest as I threw my head back.
He kneaded my sac and smirked up at me. “Feel good, honey?”
“Yeah,” I gasped. “But this’ll feel even better.”
His face between both my hands, I took him directly to the tip of my dick, letting him get no nearer than a tongue swipe away. Cranking his hair in one hand, I worked my fist up and down my cock, right in front of his face while his tongue lapped my head, capturing the trail of moisture from the slit on top. My teeth gnashed at the torture I inflicted on myself, and I spread my feet to brace myself. I wondered how long it would take him to beg, or if I’d blow my load all over his face first.
In the end, all it took was a wisp of his hot breath over me. I gave in, my muscles shaking. Throbbing in every region of my body, I pushed my pelvis out, brought his head forward, and fucked slowly into his mouth. The softest licks of flat tongue, the deepest suction down his throat. His lips were a strained oval around me, his eyes dark, blue and hooded, hooked on mine. Saliva coated my cock as he sucked me quickly in and out until I was familiar with every surface of his mouth, the stricture of his throat, the pointed pleasure of his tongue.
I stood on the balls of my feet to exploit the downward angle of his throat to a better degree. Far fucking better.
Between my meat and his full mouth, his dirty talk did me in when he drew back for a breath, the tease of his tongue touching me as he spoke. “Fuck yeah, honey. Fuck my face. Wanna feel you come in my mouth.”
Didn’t have to tell me twice. I was used to following orders. I took his head in two hands again. Craning his neck and bending my knees, I sank into his open mouth over and over again until I froze as all the feeling for him—for Blondie—blasted out of me with a roar.
I sawed in and out, and his hands curled over my wet shaft, massaging every ounce of come into his overfull mouth. Shudders racked me in waves, and just when I thought I was done, he furrowed his tongue around my tip, stroked fast, and smiled when another jet pulsed into his mouth.
Falling to the soft cushion of moss on the ground, I pitched him forward on top of me.
Kisses.
Goddamn sleek kisses so deep and intense I sought more. An endless measure of kisses.
I flattened him to his back and got off on the way he spread his arms wide and shifted his groin for my touch. The man I’d wanted for months on end seemed to ache for me as much as I did him. I couldn’t keep my hands off beautiful Blondie one second longer, fucking dying to bring every fantasy to life as short harsh breaths cranked from his chest.
With his shirt yanked up and out of the way, I discovered the dense planes of his torso and paps the same dark pink as his mouth, which opened when I traced those nubs with my fingers and then my tongue. The trail from his belly mirrored the dark blond of his hair, a fine tangle all the way to the waist of his trousers. Working his pants over his hips, I found out that line of hair became a clipped curling forest around the base of a cock punching up from a pair of pretty balls, the whole package framed by pelvic cliffs.
My face buried at the base of his thick, blunt-headed cock, I spat on my fingers and strayed to the hot pucker of his ass. With his cock shining from the kiss of my lips and the lap of my tongue, I tucked a finger inside him. Up to one knuckle, moaning over the taste of him inside my mouth when his ass flexed around my fingertip.
I dove lower, licking the area I fingered, adding another. Musky sweetness melted to my mouth until I was tracing a wet path from his ass to the shelf of his cock and back again, always spreading my fingers, thrusting deeper, searching for that ball of tissue hiding high inside.
Blondie’s big thighs spread. His back arched, his head tossed, and he sat up so his abs crunched, his fingers pushing inside my mouth alongside his cock until we were both working him hard.
The ground rumbled. Blocks of bricks sheared off, tumbling from church remains. The start of his orgasm shifted the world sideways.
I planted myself on the green ground, getting my knees in, kissing his thighs, and sliding my hands under his ass.
The rumble gathered, shaking the soil.
His shoulders curled off the ground. “You ’bout ready to fuck me?”
“Yeah.”
“’Cause I’m tired of the teasin’.”
“That so?” I swept my open palms up his muscular ass, backing off when his belly turned tight and his cock fought between us.
The churning ground beneath us soldiered onward.
Soldiered.
“Jesus Christ, tanks!” I whispered harshly, hauling him to his feet as fear ripped through the carnal haze of foreplay.
“This ain’t supposed to happen.” He zipped up while I shoved his shirt at him.
“No shit.” I put my head into Get-the-fuck-outta-here mode.
The old tornado siren howled, real alarms ringing with my imagined ones.
A warning to the Amphitheater. Some unlucky fuck was gonna meet dust tonight.
Not me. Not because of him.
If I turned cold while the alarm screamed, he became glacial. His frigid stare hollowed out my gut better than any knife. “You got about one minute.”
He k
new the drill as well as me: get caught and get shot. Best-case scenario in a situation like this.
I backed to the roadside. “Listen.” I hesitated, the incoming tanks roaring closer. “I don’t want it to end like this. Come with me.” I asked because I’d just been about to ball him. Because I’d always wanted him. Because being alone was my only weakness.
Not like it had been a date or anything, I could add that to the never-gonna- happen roster. But I had some damn manners, thank you very much, and I wanted to see the man home and safe.
He remained aloof. “I have my own transport.”
“Suit yourself.” Asshole was implied and correctly inferred when his posture stiffened.
I didn’t look back. I sprinted to my bike and gunned it so hard, I took up chunks of turf. I had two seconds to spill across the road ahead of the tanks and down the dirt path that led back thirty kilometers to Alpha Territory. Considering the tornado alarm that had been disabled years ago and whatever had made the Corps come in our direction, I knew shit was up in the city. I’d be briefed by Command soon, and my absence would be viewed as absconding, no matter how goddamn golden my record was.
Suspicion was human nature. The CO banked on it.
Wrapped over my motorcycle, I swayed and rocked with the road.
The night turned cool and sped a few weepies down my cheeks.
That was only the wind at Mach speed, flattening my cheeks.
Not emotion.
Not tonight.
I felt nothing. The wind numbed me. Made me check my emotional gage and compartmentalize Blondie back where he belonged. Names were never shared among us. Only Leon, and that was because he was too happy-go-fucky to know better. I should’ve checked on him, made sure he got away.
Riding back into Alpha wasn’t the breeze it had been getting out.
Jimmying an unguarded gate on the far side of the city from the Quadrangle, I revved down, keeping to alleys, watching as heightened patrol teams took to the streets. My block was in sight when I heard the metallic click of weapons cocking over the low purr of my engine.
