Authors: Evey Brett
Tags: #Romance, #BDSM, #Paranormal, #Erotic Fiction, #Ménage, #Fantasy
“I was frightened when I couldn’t see you.”
“I’m fine. Not a scratch on me.”
“I’d never forgive myself if anyone hurt you.”
Kon was too tired to deal with Evan’s trauma. He knew perfectly well why Evan asked for him when they hunted incubi, and it wasn’t because Kon was the best shot or best tracker. “Go to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Evan went, but not without one last kiss. “Good night, then. You were good out there tonight. Really good.”
“Go.” Kon shoved him out the door. Setting aside his frustration, he went to check on Eliana one last time. She was asleep. Dreaming. The burns on her face were already fading, thanks to Doc’s treatment.
“Sleep well, my brave one,” he said.
Chapter Three
Duty discharged, Kon headed to the suite he shared with his lover. Dane was already waiting for him, smacking the handle of a leather flogger against his palm. Shirtless and wearing only a pair of denim cut-offs, shadows curled around his muscles in the dim light. “You’re late,” Dane said.
The prickle of anticipation traveled through Kon’s body. A release was exactly what he needed—if Dane saw fit to give him one. “I’m sorry. Evan and I killed an incubus and rescued a damsel in distress. I had to wait for the doctor.”
“That’s a poor excuse for neglecting your cambion.” Dane used the flogger to gesture at the ground. “Undress, then kneel for your punishment.”
Kon removed his clothes and dropped them on the floor. He knelt, knees spread, hands on his head, and gazed at his cambion. There was admiration as well as hunger in Dane’s eyes.
“She’s a good-looking damsel, I hope.”
“Gorgeous.”
Dane’s voice hardened. “Were you thinking lustful thoughts about her?”
He hadn’t been. She was too young and ill besides. Though, now that Dane mentioned it, her fierce, determined personality had pricked his interest—and his attraction. “I am now.”
“I thought you were done with women.” His voice held a note of harshness unrelated to their play. Dane wasn’t the jealous type. If anything, he enjoyed it when Kon slept with someone else, because it gave him the opportunity to “punish” Kon for his straying. But the one time Kon had taken a relationship with a woman seriously, the trysting had gone badly, and Dane had become even more protective.
“Eliana’s different.”
“That’s what you said the last time. I don’t trust your judgment.”
Thwack
. The flogger struck Kon lightly on his chest, eliciting a tingling heat. Dane was merely warming up. They shared the trickiest of relationships between a Warden and his Ward. Kon never called Dane “Master.” It was a line neither of them would cross, because, as a Warden, Kon was and always would be the true master. Dane lived his life at the mercy of his incubus half and its need to feed on sexual energy, and Kon had been trained to safely and respectfully provide that sustenance. Dane wouldn’t have been able to survive elsewhere so easily, but neither did he want to. He adored Kon, and Kon loved him. Inside their suite, they played out their fantasies. Frequently.
Dane struck harder, alternating his blows between Kon’s back and torso.
Thwack. Thwack
. The first waves of pain flared on Kon’s back. Dane’s breathing grew louder, faster as he increased the speed of his strokes. Kon’s body was alive, burning from the kiss of the flogger, yet there was more bliss to be found.
The lashing stopped. Dane knelt in front of him, reeking of masculine lust. “What do you say, boy? Have you had enough?”
“No, Sir.”
Dane slapped his face, knocking him off balance. “I didn’t say you could talk.” He landed a second, stinging blow to Kon’s face and sent him sprawling onto the floor.
Kon lay prostrate, naked and vulnerable to whatever Dane decided to do. Helplessness aroused him far more than any tender caress. There was nothing like the fear—or satisfaction—of giving his control to someone else.
Dane straddled him, one foot against each of Kon’s hips. Kon shuddered, and a sudden
otherness
invaded Kon’s senses as Dane’s demon half merged with the human. The joining chafed Kon’s mind and sent fire racing along his nerves—yet Kon loved every moment. When the pain faded, he was left with a heightened physical awareness that meant anything Dane did would be
much
more exciting.
Dane dropped to his knees astride Kon and dug his nails into Kon’s back. He raked downward, lighting scorching trails as he claimed Kon’s flesh for his own. This was what Kon lived for—the roughness and danger as Dane walked a fine line between tempering his desires and blindly letting the demon control the encounter.
“You’re still thinking of
her
, aren’t you? The truth now.” Dane tickled Kon’s back with the leather tips of the flogger.
Kon relaxed in preparation for the fire against his skin. “Yes.”
Dane backed away. The flogger descended. Back, buttocks, thighs—no part of Kon’s body was spared. Once or twice he murmured a cry of protest, calculated to make Dane strike harder.
Soon Kon’s entire body throbbed. Welts covered his skin, but he floated, blissful as he rode a cloud of endorphins. He cared little as Dane parted his buttocks.
“Don’t come until I say.” Dane rubbed lube-coated fingers around Kon’s asshole. Expertly he slipped them inside to stroke the internal pleasure point. Warmth and pressure built.
Kon whimpered softly as Dane’s fingers stretched him wide.
“No sound.”
Kon gritted his teeth as Dane continued to probe him within.
“You don’t need a girl. They can’t do
this
.” Dane replaced his fingers with his cock and thrust hard.
Kon let out a sigh of pleasure as Dane’s shaft penetrated him to the hilt, filling him with a comfortable thickness. Dane pumped within him. Kon refrained from telling him a girl could indeed do the same thing if given the proper equipment. For a brief moment, he had a vision of Eliana wearing a strap-on around her slim hips, riding him, her long hair tickling his back.
Dane bent low to whisper in Kon’s ear. “Forget about her. Please.”
But he couldn’t. Even when Dane’s fingers dug into his back with bruising force or when Dane brought him to climax and kept going, he couldn’t get his fantasy of Eliana joining them out of his mind.
Chapter Four
In bed, Dane wrapped his arm around Kon’s chest, pleased when Kon threaded their fingers together. His love for his Warden ran deep and was far greater than mere physicality, and Dane was certain he would never grow tired of exploring the limits of Kon’s body.
He considered himself lucky—usually—that Kon was such an understanding Warden. While most of his fellow cambions either got along with or loved their Wardens, their chief complaint was a lack of trust. With some, it was warranted—not every cambion could control their demon as well as Dane could. Many were damaged and had mental scars to go with the physical, and Wardens became caretakers and counselors as well as sexual partners.
No, Dane was a very lucky boy, and he knew it. His birth mother had abandoned him as an infant. Dane had been adopted by a couple unable to have children and had experienced a wonderful childhood in San Diego until he reached his late teens and felt the first stirrings of his demon. Thankfully, his parents hadn’t punished or shamed him for his emerging sexuality when it became clear he preferred men. They’d been patient and explained safe sex and respect for his partners, though remained puzzled when none of their advice regarding abstinence seemed to stick.
* * * *
Dane had wanted to obey his parents—he just couldn’t. A terrible, gaping hunger grew within him if he went too long without sex. He went to the library and read everything he could on sexual addiction, but none of it quite fit the feelings he experienced. He
needed
sex; otherwise he grew physically ill.
The answer came one night shortly after his twenty-first birthday, and he finally had access to the seedier nightclubs downtown. The leather clubs drew him. He loved taking charge and having the responsibility for his partner’s health and well-being and was hungry for more.
The latest place was called Whiplash and evidenced only a buzzing neon sign above a single door. The bouncer, wearing a leather vest and pants, waited outside to check IDs and collect admission. He gave Dane an appraising look, then thumbed him inside. Anxious and excited, Dane descended the stairs and ended up in heaven.
The music was jazz, kinky, and low instead of deafening. People of all types were everywhere; men, women, Doms, Dommes, and their subs in all combinations and states of dress. There were other couples, seemingly more interested in each other than role-playing. Laughter and conversation filled the room.
He was home. The energetic, sexual vibe fit him as nothing else had. Somehow he
knew
these people shared the same hunger he did, yet the club seemed welcoming rather than dangerous.
He gazed around the room, wondering where to start since he was unpartnered—and there, leaning nonchalantly against the wall, was Kon, languidly taking stock of the club’s denizens.
Dane didn’t know his name then, of course, but the attraction was instantaneous. Kon was the prettiest man Dane had ever laid eyes on, with long black hair and a face that could have easily belonged to either sex. His bare chest and too-tight leather pants made his gender clear, but Dane liked the ambiguity.
The flush of heat overcame Dane so quickly he couldn’t control himself. The sexual craving blotted out all other thoughts. His vision focused so it pinpointed on Kon—only Kon—and homed in on him as if Dane were a heat-seeking missile and Kon the target.
“I want you. Right now,” Dane said before he could stop himself. Deep down, the part of him his parents had raised to be polite and show good manners cringed, but Kon didn’t seem to mind. He cocked his head, studying his visitor with what seemed like amusement.
“You’re starving, aren’t you, poor thing?” The words had an odd lilt. Dane couldn’t place the accent, smooth and edgy at the same time. Whatever it was, the exoticness stoked the need already building in Dane’s crotch.
Unable to answer, Dane took the man’s hand and lifted it to his lips. He kissed each knuckle, then took the long fingers into his mouth one at a time. The taste—salty and sweet and masculine—stoked the flame within him. He needed this man—needed to feel him inside and out, to hear his voice cry out as he pled for mercy he didn’t really want.
Now.
But Kon put his free hand on Dane’s chest. The look in his eyes was both compassionate and understanding. “You may have me, but the only thing I request is that you let me show you to a room. It’ll be safer for both of us.”
“We’re going to a hotel?” The leather clubs he knew didn’t have private rooms.
“No. We’ll stay here. This is an unconventional sort of club for people with unconventional needs.”
Dane had a strange, twisting feeling in his stomach that had nothing to do with sex. Kon knew something about him—something Dane didn’t.
“Kon.” It was a blond man Dane hadn’t noticed until he spoke.
Dimly, Dane wondered if he’d impinged and Kon already belonged to this man, but Kon waved the blond away. “We’ll be fine. Won’t we?”
Dane could only nod, mute with the gnawing, growing hunger. He hadn’t let go of Kon’s hand.
“Last room on the left,” Kon told his blond friend and led Dane toward a hallway concealed by a sparkling beaded curtain. Kon had barely enough time to shut and lock the door behind him before Dane lifted and tossed him onto the double bed.
The last thing Dane remembered clearly was unbuttoning Kon’s fly and pulling out an uncut cock already hard and waiting for him. The rest was a blur of flesh and bone. All Dane knew was an animalistic lust to own this man, every last millimeter of skin. He drank from Kon’s essence, desperate to slake his thirst on the body yielding to his blind need.
When the heat and haze over his mind had cleared, his mouth held the aftertaste of swallowing Kon’s climax. Guilt and shame overcame him at the sight of Kon’s body covered in scratches and welts.
What the hell have I done? Again? Why can’t I stop myself from doing this?
He rose and pulled on his jeans. Kon lazily rolled over in bed. “Going so soon?”
“I’m sorry.” Dane rooted around the floor for his shirt and finally found it under the bed.
“For what?” Kon rose, not shy at all to expose himself. At least he was calm; several of Dane’s other partners had panicked after the violence he’d unconsciously inflicted.
Shirt in hand, Dane couldn’t tear his gaze away from that attractive, naked body. The heat and hunger rose again. “Don’t. Please. I need to leave before…”
“Before what? Before your demon takes hold again? That wouldn’t be a good idea. I don’t think you’ve been fed well at all. I’m surprised you had as much control as you did.”
Demon
. The word fit that awful sensation inside him perfectly. He always felt as if he were possessed when he was having sex. “I can’t stay.”
At least, that’s what he
would
have said had Kon not covered his mouth with his lips.
The heat—the
demon
—possessed him with such ferocity, Dane cried out. More than anything he wanted Kon bound and immobile, butt in the air. He wanted—
needed
—to see that pale skin rise and redden when it felt the rope’s caress.
“I
can’t
,” the rational, human part protested, but Kon seemed neither worried nor afraid.
“You can. You will. It’s perfectly natural for a hungry cambion.” He dropped to his knees and gazed up at Dane. “I’m yours. Do what you will with me.”
The last of Dane’s free will fled. He bent down and clutched Kon’s head. He tilted it back so he had full access to Kon’s mouth. Kon submitted as if he’d been born to be another man’s plaything.
Dane barely had enough breath to speak. “Is there any rope?”
Kon crawled on all fours over to a cabinet and withdrew a length of cotton rope, which he presented to Dane.