Week Nine – Holy

This bit  of erotica comes from Holy – a last excerpt before I put Matti and Artemio on the back burner to focus on Sophie In September and book five of Eight Kingdoms!

(And of course, remember, this sort of Friday Fun is NSFW!)

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“Hey, sleepy. Angel?”

Matti sat up abruptly, turned and stared at him for one moment before he leapt out of the sheets, down off the end of the bed and onto him. He wrapped his arms around Artemio’s neck, his legs around his waist and nuzzled his face into the curve of Artemio’s cheek. Despite himself he laughed, reached one hand up into Matti’s hair and tugged gently.

“What the hell are you, a fuckin’ monkey? Christ, Matti -”

“Master. I -”

“Hey. What’d I say about that?”

“I – sorry. Ar…tem…io…”

“Better. Now, what were you gonna say?”

“I missed you.”

“Yeah? You’re an idiot, huh?” But he grinned, then shrugged his shoulders under the pressure of Matti’s arms, turned his head to one side. “You gonna let go anytime soon?”

“I don’t want to. Do you want me to?”

“Let’s try…legs down, and less strangling. Grab my chest if you wanna hold on to me, not my neck, and…and…Matti.”

He obeyed promptly, easily, and Artemio sucked in a breath as Matti slid down his body. He hadn’t thought this through. He had not thought this through. Matti was wearing his shirt and nothing else, and as he slipped down it opened and shifted until far too much of Matti’s skin was pressed against him.

He was so hot in Artemio’s arms, squirming just a little – a little too much. It was easy to forget, because he made himself so small so easily, but he was almost exactly as tall as Artemio was and that meant standing like this –

It was too perfect of an embrace. It gave everything away.

“Artemio…Artemio…Master. You want me. Oh – ohhh -” Matti rocked against him, and Artemio felt the extra heat of his cock against the length of his own erection as he leaned up on his toes and then back again. “Master, tell me it’s because of me, tell me you want me, please, please.”

“Goddamnit…goddamnit, Angel, what’d I say? I -” But Artemio couldn’t make himself let go, held tighter instead. He slipped his hands down Matti’s back and grabbed his ass with both hands, a sweet curve of bare skin under the hem of his shirt. “Fuck.”

“Mast-”

He bent his head and shut him up with a hard, hard kiss, then jerked back and sucked in a breath when Matti gasped against his mouth, bucked his hips forward in Artemio’s grasp and groaned. So hard. So hot. And his cock was leaking against Artemio’s belly, wet enough that he could feel it through his shirt, against his skin. “Matti…Matti.”

Artemio kissed him again, and again – god, kissing Matti was like drinking coffee and whiskey at the same time. Intoxicating. Maddening. Not enough and too much and – and – “God. Yes. Yes, I want you, I want you so bad – been wantin’ you so bad. Wantin’ you since I found you, since I – God’m gonna. Gonna fuck you right now. Gonna fuck you right against the wall.”

“Master!”

“’S your own damn – your own damn fault.”

“Please. Please. I don’t know why you, I don’t know why now, but I’ve been waiting, wanting, waiting. Please…please take me.”

“You – goddamn. You’re wearin’ my shirt.” He closed his eyes, brought his nose down to Matti’s throat and breathed in the richness of his skin, the mingled warmth of his own scent with it. “Your own goddamn fault. Kept on – askin’ for it, and askin’-” Again he kissed him, and again. “You got that? Your fault.”

“Yes, Master.”

Matti was laughing at him, laughing between every hard kiss, rocking against him and  moaning and laughing still.

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