Reluctant Mates - 21 Paranormal Romance Stories (Werewolf, Vampire, Minotaur and Monster collection) (64 page)

“Mathis! Get the fuck down!”

I jumped. Crockett. I knew that voice. My mind snapped back into my head.

The ground rushed up, and my head struck a rock. My eyes went blurry, but my consciousness returned for the space of eight seconds, maybe nine. From the edge of the jungle, I saw black hair, teeth... and silver barrels, spinning. Then fire. Crockett’s savage roar matched the noise from his pet gun.

A hail of bullets ripped through the air.

Hundreds of meaty, stomach-churning
twips
erupted above me, and Vlad, as I rolled onto my stomach and covered my head, screeched, howled, wretched, and thrashed. Crockett’s gun clicked. Vlad fell, torn almost in half.

I saw white and then my vision went brown. Crockett, hooting at the dead vampire, slung me over his shoulder and beat a path into the jungle.

I don’t remember much of the trek back, but I do remember flashes here and there. Most importantly, I vaguely recall Crockett counting down from thirty. When he got to twenty, he set me down and kept counting. At fifteen, the ground rumbled, a fireball erupted what seemed like a mile up into the atmosphere and we were both flung backward, me into a mound of rotten vegetation, and he into a tree trunk. A split second later, as the firestorm raged, Crockett shook himself off, threw me back over his shoulder, and that, as they say, was that.

***

I
came to in the best way I possibly could: with Bolton hovering over me.

“We did it. You did it. He’s dead. It’s over.” He kissed me, the scratch of his stubble woke me up, rubbed the sleep from my eyes.

“Really? What happened? How long was I out?”

“Two days. Look.” He clicked on a tiny television that I think was born before I was. It had a VCR growing out the bottom of it. Strange.

A newscast played, dated two days ago. “Watch this,” he said, putting an arm underneath my shoulders, propping me up. The video was grainy, but I could make out several tanks, one with a man in an incredibly garish military uniform standing on top of it.

“Crazy bastard thinks he’s Patton,” I said, heaving my weight onto an aching elbow.

“I imagine he’s not thinking that anymore. Keep watching.”

Absolutely no life seemed to exist in the center of La Paz. Very strange. It was a huge city, always bustling, full of people buzzing around all the government offices and the commercial complexes in the middle of town. Anyone reasonable would have noticed. Moreno of course, was not a particularly reasonable person though. The video seemed to be shot from a balcony not far from the square. Impressive camera work, considering.

Moreno hopped off the front of the tank, apparently quite impressed with himself, ran up the steps to some huge building, and started giving a speech. He seemed excited about it, lots of arm waving and screaming. Of course, then the rest of the party showed up.

Government military vehicles poured in from all sides, circling him. There was no gunfire, just a lot of arms in the air and dropped guns.

“He just gave up? Just like that?”

“Yep,” Bolton nodded, running a hand through my hair, “it was all you. Whatever you did to that vampire, he made the call. Moreno thought he was about to be rescued by a cavalry of bloodsuckers. Unfortunately for him, they never showed. He’s on his way to The Hague. I wonder if he still thinks they’re coming?”

“Listen, I...” I started, but he cut me off.

“I know. I listened to the recording. You let him bite you, suck your blood. It was genius. You executed perfectly. I have to ask though – why didn’t you just do like last time? Suck him off a little?”

“Well, he had a silver chastity belt.”

Bolton stared, blankly.

“A silver chastity belt.”

“Yep.”

He laughed so hard his face turned purple. “What in the fuck?”

“No idea. I didn’t even know you were able to buy those things after about 1450. I should have paid more attention in History, I guess.”

He chuckled again, the tanned skin of his face crinkling at the corners of his mouth. He kissed me again.

“I’m glad you made it. I was worried. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

***

“H
ere, look at this,” Bolton began, having led me two structures over from the tent we shared, “it took a while to get this much water heated up.”

I couldn’t believe it. There was a sort of makeshift washbasin next to a fire with some bizarre contraption built around it that kept the tub’s water hot. “Andrews did it. We’ve been bored lately. Just hanging out, waiting for the next mission. Waiting for you.” I smiled and turned to him.

As I turned, something twinged inside my knee, one of my ribs spasmed and I made an “Urrgh!” noise. Bolton just chuckled.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh. You’ve been beat to absolute shit. Let’s get you in here; this’ll hopefully relax some of those aching muscles.”

He helped me into the tub, brushed the hair away from my face and began to sponge my shoulders. Steam and some sort of soap smell off the bath hit my nose and almost immediately shook off some of the stupor I felt from being dead to the world for two full days. I started to feel alive.

“Hey, uh, Bolton? My mouth is...”

“Oh do you have a busted lip? I’ll get some ointment for you.”

“No, no, it just feels like steel wool. Tastes like a yak’s ass.”

He laughed. “Yeah, sure, gimme a sec.” He rose, stretched the powerful muscles of his back side to side and scratched behind an ear. “Oh right! I remember where I put ‘em.” He shuffled off and returned a second later with a little tub of water and handed me a toothbrush topped with baking soda. We had top of the line equipment, technology for miles. But we had to warm our water with a doohickey that would make Rube Goldberg proud, and we brushed our teeth like it was 1890. What can you do?

Scrubbing out my mouth felt almost as good as sinking into the steaming water. When I spit, all manner of things came out. Dirt, mostly, but flecks of dried blood were plentiful as well.

“You were lucky as hell. I shouldn’t say that. You did a damn good job. Mathis, you were ready to die for a mission, for people, that you have no reason to help in the first place.”

“No,” that’s where I interrupted him, “that’s where you’re wrong. I was always putting myself in danger, ever since I got here. You have to remember – you guys have been here for quite some time. But so have I. The only difference is that before I met you guys, my only weapons were some antibiotics and a couple syringes. I’m not doing anything I wasn’t doing before, just going about it a little differently.”

“You’re incredible, you know that?”

I blushed. What can I say? Even Jungle Wolves get bashful sometimes.

He brushed the hair that had fallen back into my eyes aside, leaned close and kissed me once, two times, and on the third opened his mouth ever so slightly and tickled my lips with the tip of his tongue until I let him explore between them. Bolton withdrew, sucked my bottom lip between his teeth, gave me a thrilling little nibble and he pulled away, smiling. One hand behind my neck and the other on the side of my face, he stroked me, trailing a fingertip down my jawline and to my chin. He pressed his lips to mine again and then stood.

Slowly, he pulled the forest green tank top up his torso, making sure to tease me by revealing glimpses of his gorgeous body and then moving the shirt down again. His show was incredible. By the time he got the shirt off completely, I was so hard that it almost hurt. The dog tags that he wore as a reminder of a time long past jingled back into place, and as I watched his strip-tease, I couldn’t help but start to tug my cock under the steaming, soothing water. My prick’s soft, smooth shaft felt good in my hand. Hard, and aching for Bolton, I did what I could, even though I was still a little weak. I stared, longingly, at him as he unbuttoned the shorts he’d fashioned out of BDUs and slipped them down over his knees and then to the floor, revealing those powerful, beautiful legs.

My eyes drank him in from the floor to his rounded, rock-like calves, then up his bronze, muscled thighs then settled on his half-hard dick that hung thick, long and  heavy between them. I unconsciously jerked harder when Bolton grabbed that delicious cock and gave himself a tug. Starting with a loose hand on his base, he cupped his balls in the other and squeezed harder as he got to his tip. The way he did it made his cock pump bigger and bigger each time until it was pointing straight ahead.

I reached for him.

He moved closer.

I wrapped my hand around him and pulled him nearer still.

“This is all about you, Mathis. Don’t worry about pleasing me, you’ve done that plenty. Only do exactly what you want, alright?” He stroked the hair that framed my face. “Anything you want, just say so.”

“I want to suck your cock,” was all I could think to say.

His taste sent shivers down my relaxing back. I winced as I turned my body, and Bolton noticed. He climbed in the tub, a foot on either side of me. Dripping, I put my hands back around his dick and stroked him into my mouth. He shuddered when I locked my lips on him, which got me even more excited than I already was.

Even though it was bright and hot outside, inside the tent was a sort of permanent dusk – gray, soft, safe. A tendril of juice came out of him and trickled over my tongue and down my throat. I wanted more. To be honest, I wanted to do things my body was not going to allow, as injured as I was. Bolton knew. He took care of me. When I strained to pull him closer, to pull that huge cock down my throat, he pushed back. “No, no, no.” He wiggled a finger playfully at me. “You’re hurt. I’m taking care of you today. Not the other way around. Relax.”

He stepped out of the water, dripping all over the dusty ground, and went around behind me. I melted in his hands when I felt those thumbs drive into the aching muscles on the back of my skull. Bolton kneaded, hard and soft, all around my neck and shoulders. He pushed his fingers hard into the sensitive, knotted areas under my shoulder blades and ran his hands all the way down to massage away the ache in my lower back.

I straightened up and leaned forward, giving him as much access as I could.

“Thank you,” I muttered.

He pressed and spread his fingers out which seemed to move the soreness around my waist and then away. “Relax,” he muttered, “just relax. That’s it.” His hands went down my back again, and rubbed at the top of my ass. Kinks I didn’t even know I had relaxed. I started to feel a little like pudding.

“Good,” Bolton sighed, “good.”

His hands went up to my shoulders, worked out more knots, and then he slid them down my chest, over my belly, and to the base of my straining cock. At first, his hands were loose around me, barely tickling my shaft as he stroked. He had both hands on me, one in front of the other, turning gentle half circles.

After maybe a half-minute of this, he dropped one hand further down and gave my balls a gentle, wonderful squeeze as he tugged my cock in longer, but still unbelievably delicate, pulls. The calluses on his palms tingled, rasped and thrilled my most sensitive parts, and even though I ached for him, even though I wanted nothing more than to be buried inside him, feeling sweat rub off his chest and on to mine, I tried to relax. I knew rough stuff just wasn’t going to work. Not yet. I sank further into the water until my chin touched the surface. I heard him chuckle as he chased my cock under, squeezing me a little harder, tugging a little faster.

His biceps grazed either side of my face as he worked me. I turned my head and nuzzled in the crook of his elbow, smelling his body, thinking about all those times he had fucked me. All those times his hips pounded against my ass and his cock filled me up. All those times he sucked me dry at the end. Before I knew what was happening, I was lost in my own little fantasy world with Bolton’s hands pleasuring me. A second later, the muscles in my ass clenched, my cock started to twitch, and he sucked my earlobe between his teeth and milked me as I emptied my balls into the water in a shivering, quaking, absolutely needed release.

“Let’s get you dried off,” he whispered, helping me to my feet and toweling off my chest, arms and back. “Wait there.”

He lay down a palette of blankets, towels and sheets on the floor of the tent and helped me to them. My body still ached, but his attention had certainly eased me up. When he dried my cock, he pulled me again. I have no idea how, or why, but the softest I got was half-way before he stroked me to another full erection. “I’m not done with you yet,” he smiled, urging me to lie back on the place he’d made.

Bolton sat on his knees above me. He was still hard, but he wouldn’t let me touch him. “Relax,” was all he’d say.

My chest was next. Those skilled fingers of his worked in circles, relieving the pain from being thrown around and then unconscious on a cot for two days. As he pushed and prodded, I felt the stress and the strain physically beading up and dripping off me, just like the last of the bathwater was doing. My thoughts drifted back to a world where I wasn’t covered in bruises and had no cracked ribs or twisted ankles. A world where my ring was stretched around my alpha’s cock, he was driving deep, and exploding inside me. He moved down my body and sat back on his knees over my shins. When his hands when back to my shaft, the sweet ache I felt grew so that I thought I would burst.

“Tell me if there’s anything special you’d like,” he said, his voice soft and comfortable, “or else I’m just going to let whatever happens happen. Alright?”

I nodded, smiled, and reclined my head on the pile of towels and sheets underneath me.

Bolton stooped over, kissed me just above the knee and then a little further. I liked where this was going.

With one hand still on my cock, tickling and stroking me playfully, he pushed my knees apart, sat between them and kissed the inside of my thighs – one and then the other – until he had worked all the way up.

He tightened his grip, tugged a little harder, and pulled one of my balls into his mouth with his tongue. Circling me in fat, lazy licks, he vibrated an “Mmmmmmm....” that reverberated through me, sending chills up my groin and over my spine. I shivered and a trail of goose bumps rose up all the way to the nape of my neck. Bolton moaned again, squeezed my cock harder, and let my testicle escape his mouth with a
pop
before running his tongue up my sack and taking a long lick up to the tip of my prick then back down.