Tag Archives: werewolf

Week Twelve – Anna In August

This bit  of erotica comes from Anna In August, now available Here in celebration of the pre-order of it’s sequel, Sophie In September! Enjoy! 

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

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Anna knew without being told that none of them were going to fuck her unless he did, and she wanted him to. She wanted him inside her more every minute. Her orgasm was building inside her with every flutter of tongue against her clit, every thrust of Luka’s cock into her mouth, and she was desperate for it.

“You going to come Anna?” Luka’s words filtered through the heat, and she groaned her answer around his cock.

He tightened his fist in her hair, and the sensation sent a shock through her whole body. “Not until I do.” She shivered, wanted to complain and instead tried to make Luka come. She sucked harder, faster, reached up with one hand to stroke the part of his cock that she couldn’t get into her mouth, teased the tip of it with her tongue and did her best to repeat everything that made him groan and pull her hair.

The moment before Luka came she knew he was going to, felt his cock thicker in her mouth, his thighs tense under her hands, heard him groan louder, longer than before, then tasted bitter salt and shivered. He kept his hands in her hair, fucked her mouth through his orgasm. Then he pulled back, let go and grinned down at her.

“Now you can come.”

She was suddenly aware of the mouths working between her thighs again, of lips that fastened around her clit and start to suck. She started to turn her head, to look down at them, but a hand that wasn’t Luka’s fastened in her hair, tugged her around, and another cock, more slender, was in front of her lips. She looked up, startled, and saw brown hair, and brown eyes with lust in them. Ares.

Luka spoke from somewhere she couldn’t see. “What are you waiting for, Anna?” Tongue. A lash of tongue all over her clit, exposed and tortured and oh, so good.

“So good—” Then that second tongue was back inside her, stabbing into her pussy again and again, licking her up inside while her clit was sucked and teased, tormented by soft lips.

“Oh god I’m coming— coming—” Anna shut herself up with Ares’ cock, sucked on the head of it and groaned at the taste of him, so different from Luka.

Lick of Shadow

This  Lick comes  from The Shadow Road, book four of  the Eight Kingdoms series! This excerpt is a site exclusive, as The Shadow Road won’t be on pre-order until December! 

Remember, Licks are NSFW excerpts, so read carefully – and look forward to another erotic excerpt on the smutty seventeenth of next month!

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There was desire without restraint in Bran’s touch, Bran’s kiss. Some barrier Macsen had only been vaguely aware of was broken down within him, and for a moment he was breathless. Passion he knew, and fire, but this was both those things and more. Could he stand it, take it, bear it? Yes, oh yes. He wanted more and more, all that Bran was, breathing and beating, heart and soul.

He stepped back, let Bran go and Bran growled at him, but Macsen pulled at his tunic and his expression changed. He let Macsen drag it over his head and off his arms, and he was already kicking off his boots when Macsen dropped it and jerked at the tie of his trousers.

Naked, perfect, the scent of him drowned everything else from Macsen’s awareness. He pulled Bran close, then dragged him down to the ground and darted over him without pause. All for me. Bran was already hard and reaching for him, pulled up his legs and tried to drag Macsen over him, onto him, into him.

Macsen held back, but barely. He took Bran’s cock in his fist, stroked as he bent over him, kissed him, and Bran groaned, arched off the ground. Macsen took the wetness from Bran’s cock onto his fingers, pressed one inside and Bran was hot for him and tight, shuddered, moaned. Want.

There was suddenly grass, soft and green under Macsen’s knees, but that didn’t matter. Bran was rocking impatiently back against his fingers, his hands on Macsen’s shoulders. Where had his embarrassment gone? He had eyes for no one but Macsen, attention for no one but Macsen, and when he finally begged, the words came eager and easy. “Please, enough, it’s enough. Just give me your cock. I need it. I need it—now, now, now.

The echo undid the last of Macsen’s restraint. He pulled his fingers away and gripped Bran’s thighs, pulled them up and apart, then pressed in. It was always good this way, but usually he took more time, prepared Bran more, and now the tight heat grasping his cock one inch at a time was tighter. He thrust deeper, deeper, and Bran’s legs wrapped around his back, urging him on.

Macsen cast his gaze around them one last time, teeth showing. Winter had fallen into blood-rut, as if his own descent onto Bran had given them permission. Perhaps it had. But no one met his eyes, no one looked his way. He saw what he had wanted to see. No one, no one dared to look at Bran under him.

The hunter, satisfied, turned wholly to his prey.

 

 

Week Eleven – The Shadow Road

This bit  of erotica comes from the soon-to-be-released  book four of Eight Kingdoms, The Shadow Road. Keep an eye out for more bits and bites as we draw closer to the December preorder date! 

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

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Macsen bent and took the head of Bran’s cock into his mouth, just for the taste of him, and his hands darted down to cup the back of Macsen’s head. He licked his lips and stood straight again, pulled Bran the tiniest bit closer, right to the edge of the table, and replaced his fingers with his cock.

He didn’t say a word, gave no warning, and Bran gasped under him, clawed at his shoulders, pulled himself tight against Macsen’s body and let out one long cry. It was just what Macsen wanted, his name drawn out into an unrecognizable sound.

“Open up for me just like that. So good, Bran.”

Bran shook, shuddered, and trembled finally as he relaxed. Everything was heat, and the fire clutched at Macsen’s skin, but Bran was so tight around his cock he couldn’t move. The pleasure was a torment. It was so hot—so hot—there was just one distraction, and he held Bran against his body and bit deep into his throat, sucked up the red, dark blood.

The first mouthful was enough to take Bran shuddering over the edge, all but untouched, heart speeding under Macsen’s tongue, all of him shaking and his cock throbbing its white essence in pulses between them. His body gripped Macsen’s cock almost painfully, then relaxed while he tightened his fingers in Macsen’s hair again and again.

He stayed still and let Bran ride out his climax, took slow mouthfuls from the brilliant spill at his throat. Brighter. Brighter than it had been since they had left Summer. Was it the power Bran used for his work?

So much sun.

Slowly, Macsen pulled back, then thrust deeper, again and again. He felt desire as it sneaked back into Bran’s body, up his calves and his trembling thighs, into the tautness of his buttocks and the sudden tenseness of his hips. The shadow of fire trembled across his skin as he arched back, flickered over his abdomen, his chest. There was fire in his blood, too, as it streamed over Macsen’s tongue and down his throat.

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.

Week Eight – Sophie In September

This bit  of erotica comes from a new smut short, Sophie In September, the second story in Luka’s Pack and sequel to Anna In August

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

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“Relax. Sophie, beautiful Sophie.” Luka’s voice was a quiet murmur, and his fingers slipped along the fastening of her clothes. The bright sun dress she’d worn was the only splash of color on the black sand, and she flushed when she saw her bra beside it.

Luka’s hands reached around from behind her, lifted the weight of her breasts, and he rolled her nipples, already puckered from the cool breeze off the water, between his thumb and his fingers. Her nipples had always been sensitive, and she sucked in a breath as he plucked at them.

“I’ll let you choose, Sophie.” He let go of her left breast, slipped his hand down the front of her body and into her panties. “Which one do you want to lick you here?” With the rough tip of one finger, he started to tease her clit.

“Ohhh…”

“Which one, Sophie? Alexandre loves the taste of a woman – Ares wants to fuck your ass so bad he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Blond or brown or black hair between your thighs, Sophie? Blue or brown or hazel eyes looking up at you?” While he was talking, he had trapped her clit between his fingers, was squeezing it while he rubbed over it with another finger.

Sophie bucked her hips against his hand when he pinched her nipple again, then dragged her eyes along the line of men in front of her, stripping now, revealing hard muscles outlined by moonlight. Hungry faces, hungry gazes, one licking his lips, one already stroking his cock.

The sight reminded her of Luka behind her, stronger, broader, bigger than all of them, his cock pressed against her ass. And she wanted Ares, wanted him touching her, but if Alexandre was the one who liked to –

“I don’t – I don’t know, I don’t care, any of them, all of them -”

“No, Sophie, we don’t have time for that. There’s too many other things to do to you. Choose.”

“I – ohhh – I -” And then her eyes locked with a brown and hungry stare again. “You. Ares – please -”

He grinned at her, and she felt Luka laugh against her back. Ares took one step toward her, and Luka’s hands curled around the backs of her thighs simultaneously, sprawled wide and lifted her straight up in his arms. She gasped and dropped her head back against his shoulder, felt the tautness of his muscles against her back, her arms, and shivered.

She didn’t know what to do with her hands, and then Ares bent between her thighs and she sank her fingers into thick brown hair and moaned at the touch of cool air as he spread her open, lapped over her clit and shot a hot glance up her body.

“Tell me what you like, Sophie. Won’t you?”

 

Lick Twice

This  Lick comes  from The Burning Season, book three of Eight Kingdoms available here! Remember, Licks are NSFW excerpts, so read carefully – and look forward to another erotic excerpt on the smutty seventeenth of next month!

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Bran lay quiet, his eyes closed and his breathing growing slowly steady.

“When do you have to go? How soon?”

Soon, but not now.”

Bran’s hands wandered across Macsen’s chest, up to cup his jaw, drew him close so Bran could kiss him, skimmed the sides of his body. “Good. Good.” Bran reached across his hip to run his fingertips along the underside of Macsen’s cock.

“Again, Bran? Impatient and insatiable.” There were heat and amusement both in Macsen’s voice as he turned against Bran’s body, reached over to close his fingers around the swift thickening of Bran’s erection.

Yes. I want to still be feeling you when you leave.”

Macsen pressed his lips to Bran’s throat, licked the stinging punctures there, stroked him slowly. Bran turned his head again, lifted one leg over Macsen’s thighs behind him and shifted so that Macsen’s cock pressed between his buttocks.

Please.” Macsen pushed , and Bran let out a broken moan. There was no discomfort now, his body still stretched and more than ready. There was only pleasure with every inch of Macsen’s penetration. “Want it harder, Macsen—” One slow thrust after another filled him with rigid thickness, then pulled back.

If Macsen kept to this pace, slower than before, Bran might die. He tilted his head back, exposed the vulnerable curve of his throat and met Macsen’s eyes. There was more red in them than violet now, red of blood, red of fire, and beneath those things, the swirling of a winter storm.

Harder, Macsen. Please—cock in me, teeth in me, harder please.”

The more Bran begged the more he felt Macsen tensing behind him, coming closer to an edge he rarely crossed. As if he were afraid. Now, as always, Bran could tell he was holding back, and that was the opposite of what he wanted.

“It’s too much, Bran. I’ve already taken too much.”

“I want too much.” Bran rolled his hips and felt the sharp heat of Macsen’s exhalation against his back, the tightening of Macsen’s fingers at his hip. “Give me what I want, Macsen. Give me what I want, you know you can’t say no.”

In a moment, Bran was flat on his back again and empty, so empty. The glare of Macsen’s eyes blazed down at him through the fall of his hair.

“I can’t say no. I can’t, I can’t.” He spread Bran’s legs with warm hands that went cold without warning. “That means you should be careful what you ask for.” Wholly, fully, Macsen thrust deep, pulled himself forward over Bran’s body and set a pace that was fast and hard.

 

 

 

Week Seven – Anna In August

This bit  of erotica comes from a new smut short, Anna In August, just like week five! (So if you haven’t yet, read That One first!) This particular bit is where the smut starts to get really steamy…so enjoy! 

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

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Anna tried to think, but she could barely breathe. Luka was – a wolf? A werewolf. They were just a myth, but this myth had a tongue with which he lapped up her throat again. This myth had a body that was muscled and broad, hot and hard, all man, and she heard herself moan.

I’m going insane. That had to be it. She didn’t care. She wanted him to kiss her again, was suddenly certain that no man was ever going to kiss her like Luka had. She wanted him to do more than kiss her, wanted him to touch her, fuck her, and even as she had the thought he bent to her mouth. Luka bit her bottom lip and sucked on the tip of her tongue, and she lifted her hips and felt his cock pressed against her, huge and hot and hard. She shuddered, moaned. He was going to put it inside her, he was going to fuck her with it, she knew it – she wanted it.She wanted it so bad –

“More, Anna?”

“Please.”

She felt heat against her back without any warning, and knew it was another man. No – another monster. He was as hard and hot as Luka, naked abs burning Anna’s skin through her shirt and his cock pressed tight against the curve of her ass. Luka tilted her head back until she was forced to break eye contact with him and met a dark brown gaze instead, then slid his fingers down her throat to her nipples and thumbed them through the lace of her bra.

Luka pulled at them, and her gasp let brown-eyes’ tongue into her mouth as he licked at her lips. So different from Luka, this kiss, but almost as good. Whatever fire had been lit in her was burning brighter, hotter, and she didn’t protest when the man behind her pulled her shirt down her shoulders and off, then slid his fingers to the clasp of her bra and undid it. He slipped the straps off her shoulders and dropped it on the ground, cupped her breasts with both hands and started to tease the points of her nipples.

At the same time Anna felt Luka’s fingers inside her panties again, spreading her open to his touch. He toyed with her clit, the tips of his fingers almost too rough when he squeezed it, rolled it around. She groaned again, rocked against the body behind her, then almost jumped at another touch on her side. That was too many hands! Not just Luka’s, not just another pair, more. Who? All of them?Were they all going to – to –

Luka slid two fingers inside her, kept rubbing her clit with his thumb, and for the life of her Anna couldn’t think any more why it mattered. She looked to one side through half-shut eyes and saw a pair of dark haired men stripping, staring at her as Luka fucked her with his fingers. Together, they closed their fists around their cocks, and she shuddered, squeezed tight around a third of Luka’s fingers and wondered if he would fuck her now if she begged, or if he was going to make her wait.

The hands on her were stripping her again, distracting her, and she felt, not just hands, but more. Someone’s mouth was on her thigh as he pulled off her jeans, kissing, teasing, and she looked down and met the eyes of one of the two she’d seen stripping.

Someone’s tongue was on one of her nipples, but Luka growled in the next moment, and whoever it was retreated so that Luka could lower his mouth and suck instead. Anna pressed her breasts up toward his tongue and two pairs of hands settled on the waistband of her panties. They started to slip them down her legs, and she spread her thighs to make it easier.

Luka chuckled against her skin and slipped his hands back around her hips and down to cup her ass.

A wet finger slipped between her buttocks, started to press inside her, and Anna gasped, bucked up against him and felt his other hand back where it had started, two fingers deep in her pussy again, twisting, stroking inside. She jerked, started to fall, but the man behind her caught her, and more than one pair of hands stroked her arms, her legs, and held her up off the ground. She felt hard muscle against her back, someone’s chest again, and reached up and back to wrap her arms around his neck.

Luka started to fuck her with his fingers again, three in her pussy now, two in her ass, and she stared down at him with her mouth open, couldn’t make a sound.

“You’re so tight, Anna. So tight for us.”

Us.

“Luka, Lu-ohhh.”

One of their mouths was at her throat. Someone’s hands were teasing her nipples, someone’s tongue on her neck, licking at the bruises Luka had left. Anna heard a low, begging whine, then flushed. That was her noise, and Luka laughed, then pulled his fingers out of her and stepped back between her thighs.

He unbuttoned his jeans, kicked off his boots and stared at her as he stripped out of the denim. There was nothing under them, just Luka, more cock than she’d thought even, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care, she wanted it. She wanted him to fuck her, and then she wanted him to fuck her ass, and then – what then?

But he stepped around her instead, up toward her face, and she knew what he wanted before he said it, was already opening her mouth.

 

Week Five – Anna In August

This bit  of erotica comes from a new smut short, Anna In August.  This particular bit is part of an encounter between Anna, suddenly alone on her vacation, and Luca – the Alpha of his werewolf pack. Not that the pack stays on the outskirts for long…

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

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The road went up into the mountain, and then stopped being a road. The woman clung more as they bounced over the rough dirt path, roared up into the trees and then stopped, suddenly, in a clearing where the moon was bright. They all got down at once, the whole pack around him, and they stood waiting, watching, until he finally he got up himself.

He slung down the kickstand, stood and felt the woman’s hands slipping from around his waist. Luca saw her eyes moving, darting, the rabbit-presence returned – and her awareness of him, the predator truth, was moving outward to include the rest of the pack.

They were already close. He shifted closer to her, spoke so that his mouth hovered only an inch from her mouth and their breath mingled as he spoke. “What’s your name?”

In that same, mingled breath, the word fled from her. “Anna-”

His mouth descended on her lips, and she groaned her way out of silence and into his mouth, reached up and held to his arms with both hands. When he lifted his mouth she stared at him, that dazed expression on her face that meant the wolf was winning her over. “I’m Luca, and this is my pack. Anna, you’re ours now.”

He saw her eyes dilating, her lips moving, and she mouthed the word with some confusion. Ours? But his hands were already undoing the buttons of her shirt, then the zipper of her jeans. He didn’t bare her skin, not yet. When she was flushed and coming undone, he’d save the sight of her for then.

Tease the woman, tease his pack. The scent of her was already enough that a hushed whine at the lowest end of the night howl’s spectrum was rising from them, one after another.

He slipped his fingers over her nipples until they became tight, sensitive peaks, drew tingling lines of sensation over them, over her breasts and the smooth, sensitive skin below them. His lips made warm passage from her mouth to the lobe of her ear and down along the smooth, curving column of her throat. Then he stepped back and shucked his jacket, pulled his shirt off over his head. She reached out for him, hungry for bare skin and more contact. Her hands tightened themselves against his shoulders.

This would be torture, he knew it would, but he would endure because this was only the first step, and because he knew that after this, she would not be able to deny him. She would know – and the knowing would make her his. His. Ours.

Pack.

Their awareness was humming inside him, their hands his hands, and he knew it was time to touch her now. He slipped one hand past the narrow elastic of her panties and felt dampness, then more than dampness as he pressed his finger past the soft lips of her sex and against her clit.

Luca heard Anna’s sudden, indrawn breath with a growing smile.

Week Three – Wolf Of The West

This bit  of erotica comes from Wolf of the West,  and continues where the Lick from the smutty 17th left off!  (And of course, remember, this sort of Friday Fun is NSFW!)

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“Connor—don’t—”

But Marcas’ voice was rich with groaning, and his cock twitched under Connor, where it was pressed against his belly, hot and hard.

“You want me to leave you like this?”

“I’m not going to take you—not now—”

It was Connor’s turn to laugh at him. “But what if I wanted something else?” He pushed Marcas’ tunic up to his chest, then further, until Marcas leaned up under him and pulled it the rest of the way off. “What if I want to taste you, Marcas?” He bent and kissed Marcas’ throat, licked at his pounding pulse, sucked warmth to the surface, then bit his shoulder.

Marcas bucked under him, and Connor grinned, lifted his head so Marcas could see it. “Fair’s fair.” But there was no pain in Marcas’ expression, just heat upon heat, and Connor sucked in a breath. “Or maybe not.” He slid back onto Marcas’ thighs and reached between them for his cock, wrapped his fist around it and stroked slowly.

Marcas groaned and reached out to grasp his thighs, tried to hold Connor still, but he slid back and back, until he was between Marcas’ legs, not on them. He pressed his lips to the soft skin of Marcas’ inner thigh, then leaned up and wrapped them around his cock.

Marcas jumped under him, then lay back groaning. His hands crept up to tighten in Connor’s hair, pulled on it, urging him onward. Connor experimented with the speed of his tongue, the pressure of his lips. This was something new—the taste of Marcas, the smooth skin ridged with veins under his tongue, but he liked it. The way Marcas moved under him, the way he grasped at Connor’s hair, his panting groans.

Marcas’ fingers in his hair guided his head, tightened against his scalp when he found a particularly sensitive place. Connor used his tongue to trace that spot again and again, soft strokes while Marcas thrust into his mouth, until he cried out and Connor tasted salt and bitter heat, felt Marcas’ cock pulsing on his tongue.

The fingers wrapped in his hair relaxed, and Connor pulled back and crawled up to lie by Marcas’ side, licking his lips and grinning widely.

“Connor…hmm.”

Whatever Marcas was going to say faded into his yawn. He reached out and pulled Connor close to his side, onto his chest, yawned again and closed his eyes.

Connor lay quiet, uncomplaining, listened to the heartbeat pounding under his ear and wondered how long this golden time would last.

Week One – Wolf Of The West

This bit of smutty goodness comes from Wolf of the West, as a result of…well, research, faoladh, and my own inability to resist the temptation of Marcas. Friday Fun may become a regular deal – let’s see how it goes, shall we? (And of course, as it’s smutty, that means NSFW!)

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Connor pressed his hips up against Marcas’ and grinned at the breath the other man sucked past his lips.

“What’s not right about now?”

Marcas laughed again, but this time Connor knew that he was laughing at him.

“You don’t want it enough yet. I want more than this from you, Connor.”

Connor couldn’t see Marcas’ smirk, but he felt it, the lips stretching, parting against his skin. Again, he felt a languorous stroking of tongue against his throat, nipping teeth, open-mouthed kisses that sucked heat to the surface of his skin to be soothed by that tongue. It was no longer in him to deny anything. He could only capitulate to sensation, his own nerves betraying him with what they wanted.

On your knees, Marcas said, and the image filled itself in his head, more than an image, a whole scenario… There would be the taste of salt and skin. Give as good as I get.

He found himself pushing up against the thigh Marcas had pressed between his legs. Connor arched his back off the ground and wished he could get out of his clothes, feel all the burnished heat of Marcas’ skin against his skin, but he still couldn’t move. He couldn’t even get enough movement out of his hips to ease the aching of his cock, so full, so wanting…

What did he mean, didn’t want it enough yet? What more was there to wanting than this painful pressure, tingling in his fingertips, his toes, a shiver that turned to a full body shudder when Marcas licked his lips. He leaned back over Connor’s mouth and kissed him, sucked Connor’s tongue into his mouth and stroked it lightly with the tip of his own tongue.

He mouthed his way along Connor’s jaw, back to his throat, kissed his shoulder—then bit it, hard. Connor jerked upward with an involuntary cry. He had been so close—but Marcas was already standing, backing away, grinning.