Tag Archives: licks

Invisible Lick

It’s been a while, glorious beings, but I’ve got lots of new things to share, so let’s start with this – a special Lick from Blind Man’s Buff, an erotic, gay BDSM novella currently available here!

Remember, Licks are NSFW excerpts, so read carefully – and look forward to another erotic excerpt soon!

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Arms out, Geo had said, and Angelo can see how he will be restrained now. One arm lines up with each side of the crossbar, and his legs can be bound at the ankles by the rings on the cuffs.

The moment he has his socks and shoes off, stands naked in front of the thing, Geo’s hands are at his feet. With intent and the tiniest flare of arousal, the wolf man watches the leather close tight around his ankles, one at a time.

The rings at the sides of the cuffs are attached to the cross at the base, a little apart, so that his ass is settled in the empty space of the vertical centerpiece. He can move up on his toes, then down again, but not more than that, and his cock and balls hang free between his parted thighs.

“Comfortable?”

Angelo shrugs, unwilling to voice how vulnerable the position makes him feel, then looks down one arm at his wrist as invisible fingers close around it. “I guess.” The cuff is put on and hooked onto the horizontal crosspiece the same way his ankles have been restrained at the bottom of the cross, and he breathes a little faster.

“Then you need a safe word, before I get started.” The sounds of Geo’s movement around him are smooth, steady, calm, but the spicy musk of his scent is gaining aroused depth. He trails his fingers across Angelo’s nipples, his chest, then down his arm to his right wrist where he attaches the last cuff.

“Safe…word?” There’s a soft chuckle as Geo fastens the leather to the cross. Angelo tugs experimentally, and finds himself caught fast.

“You really don’t play like this much, do you?” Cool, not too tight, the collar Angelo had eyed goes around his throat as Geo leans in, pausing to stroke the edge of the leather with callused fingers. “The safe word is so I know if you need me to stop.”

Angelo rolls his eyes as he listens to the soft padding of Geo’s feet move across the room, away from him to the table covered in toys. “I could just tell you to stop, y’know.”

“No. That’s not enough. If you use the safe word I know it’s not part of the game, not just you denying something you actually want. It will tell me what’s too much for you, really too much. So I don’t do it again.”

The mirrors aren’t angled properly to let him see what Geo has brought back from that table with him until the man is behind him – and then Angelo’s own body is in the way. The first touch, though it startles him, is not a toy, but the brush of Geo’s fingers down his spine. “Safe word, I said. Choose something you won’t say accidentally in the middle of this.”

Angelo snickers, but only a little. It’s hard to keep from staring at himself in the mirror, the way the dark leather of the cuffs stands out against his tan skin, the way his cock is thickening, stiffening. He’s anticipating and anxious despite himself. And now…a word he won’t say during sex? “I dunno. Uh…pineapple? I hate those.” He grins. “That good enough?”

There’s a moment of silence, and then, abruptly, “Yes,” and the strike of something cool and smooth and hard against his ass.

“Ah! Shit, that fuckin’ hurts!” Again, right where the first blow had struck, another sends searing flames across the surface of his ass, then another, and another. For a moment, Geo pauses, but this time the caress is too hot, stings the freshly struck skin.

“Should I stop before I even get started, Angelo?”

Mocking him – The wolf man glares all around him, hoping he catches Geo somewhere. “No, I didn’t say stop, I just – oh!” Again, and again, and again. One side, then the other. It hurts, but –

Angelo sucks in a breath, jerks against the cuffs holding him still, then bites his lip as a moan slips out of him and his cock throbs against his thigh. Another blow, and his erection thickens even more. The heat in his ass sends tendrils lapping up his back, down his thighs, deep into his ass.

After another half-dozen swats Angelo is panting, staring at his twitching cock in disbelief. It hurts, God does it hurt, but…he thinks he likes it. “Why did you stop? Why did -”

There’s a click as Geo puts down the paddle on top of the cross. “Why did I stop? That’s a pleasant surprise. Not what I thought I would be hearing from you, but very nice.”

A little gasp of something close to laughter escapes Angelo’s mouth, and he tugs at the cuffs again as if that will help. “Me – me either. Wha – ahh…” His words fade to breath as the telling heat of Geo’s hands spreads open over his buttocks again.

“I think you might need a little help, Angelo. I didn’t expect you to respond so well. Have you used a cock ring before?”

“Yeah. Not on myself, but – ugh. That’s tight.” The wolf man bucks his hips into the air as smooth metal slides down the length of his shaft, then flushes and tries to hold himself still. Tries – but the feather light touches of Geo’s fingertips moving back up over the head of his cock are hard to resist. The paddle has made him want much more than just to be teased, and Angelo curses beneath his breath.

Geo laughs at him.

 

Want More? Pick up a copy of Blind Man’s Buff here

 

 

 

Lick Him Up

Welcome to our first Lick, an excerpt from Dark Side of the Sun, posted today in celebration of book three’s cover reveal! (You can see it here!) Why is this excerpt not in Bites, you ask? Because Licks are NSFW excerpts, and it’s only polite to keep them separate! Look forward to a new Lick on the smutty seventeenth of every month!

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…Bran flushed, and Macsen reached out and drew him close again, nuzzled his cheek and kissed his jaw, the curve of his ear, then down again toward his mouth. This kiss was rougher, deeper, and Bran tasted blood without knowing whose lip he had bitten. One of Macsen’s hands ran through his hair, dragged sharp nails against his scalp, held his head still. Despite himself, Bran groaned and gave in to his own desire. The soft lips opened to Bran’s tongue. He felt cool, tingling hands reach up to touch his cheeks, felt them running through his hair, slip down around his shoulders.

Bran turned his head under the pressure of a nudge and another kiss, and Macsen pulled him into a closer embrace. Bran opened his eyes and the movement felt lazy. Was the Red King’s kiss a drug?

No. It’s just desire.

Bran licked his lips, a quick darting of his tongue. He felt Macsen’s eyes on the motion and knew then the inevitable end of this confrontation.

“You’re trying to distract me, but I want—”

“I don’t want to talk about your mother right now, Bran Fionnan. I don’t want to talk at all. Not now. Ask me anything you want, but later. Not now.

He leaned close, breathed deeply. Bran felt Macsen’s breath against his lips and tried once more, but he was pressing up against Macsen even as he spoke, even as his words became a murmur that washed against Macsen’s lips.

“You’re sure no one—”

“No one will see us tonight. Not unless it’s someone with more power than me.” Macsen’s voice was breathless, his eyes shining and dark, the pupils dilated with lust. “Now, don’t struggle. I’d never hurt you, beautiful Bran—”

Macsen licked Bran’s lips, so soft, so teasing. Bran knew what was about to happen the moment before it did, but in that moment he found that he didn’t care. He had accepted Macsen’s nature for what it was—he enjoyed it, darkness and all. It was proof that Macsen was like him, proof that he was sidhe. Bran’s want flowed hot in him, spurring him onward, and beside his lust was the same welling of inexplicable trust that he had felt the night before. Trust. It was a promise with no words that was reinforced by Macsen’s aura, Macsen’s presence.

Macsen smirked, his lips stretching over white teeth, then bent to Bran’s throat. Bran felt Macsen’s tongue against his skin. Sharp teeth penetrated deep. A tickle like the brush of a feather became twin needles of sensation and fluttering heat. Bran gasped. The feeling was nothing like what he had imagined.

The theft of his blood was a delicate seduction that gave him promises instead of pain. For a moment it let him feel the rich, dark core of Macsen’s being—but that moment was very short. Macsen had taken barely a mouthful from Bran’s veins, but he was already stepping back.

“Delicious.”

Macsen’s hands roamed Bran’s skin through untied, unlaced clothes. Dazed, Bran wondered when that had happened. Macsen’s touch aroused, stimulated, tempted. His fingers teased Bran’s nipples into hard points and his other hand slipped between the tight press of their bodies and grasped the straining stiffness of Bran’s erection. Macsen lifted his lips from Bran’s throat and soothed the shallow wound there with his tongue. For a moment a haze hung across Macsen’s eyes. Bran saw it, heard Macsen’s voice thicken and slow and soften into a murmur that brushed heat against the tender place on his throat.

“Be my lover, beautiful Bran, my lover…”

Bran didn’t know why Macsen had stopped to ask. It felt like he had wanted this touch, this moment, forever. It didn’t matter that need and desire weren’t really the same thing, not right now. He surprised himself with the force of his answer. “Yes.”

That one word seemed like it was enough to awaken the bestial promise that slept in the Red King. Bran felt the shift in the hands that pulled his clothes from his body, hands that grasped his throbbing erection and pulled pleasure from his loins with smooth, slow strokes.

They stumbled together, and came up against the wall of Bran’s house. Macsen held Bran pinned there with the weight of his body, and Bran slipped his fingers against Macsen’s chest and down, down—he needed no encouragement to return the pleasure that Macsen’s stroking fingers gave him.

He could feel Macsen’s pulse beating in the heavy hardness that slid back and forth across his palm—then their gasps were equal and they panted together, gasping, moaning. Bran’s head fell forward against Macsen’s chest. He heard his own voice calling out, strangled and broken.

“Macsen…Macsen…Macsen…”

Macsen was quieter, but his whisper, “Bran,” was tender and sharp enough to send a new shudder rolling over Bran’s skin.