Sean Michael's Blog, page 30
March 12, 2013
Author Spotlight Tuesday - Sage Marlowe
Boxers or briefs?
Depends on who’s wearing them
Favorite position to write?
On the sofa, legs up and laptop on lap or in bed, snuggled up and typing on the phone
Favorite kink to write?
I love toys…
Tattoos or piercings?
Both
Cut, uncut or I love them all?
I love them all
What's your favorite thing about Sub-Culture?
Sub-Culture is the sequel to my debut novel, Sub-Mission. That alone makes it one of my favourites. I loved revisiting Noah and Pierce and finding out how they were doing after five years. They had surprised me quite a bit with their extended cameo appearance in Re-Submission, especially when Pierce wanted a baby. Well, that is probably my favourite thing about the entire Sub-series – the characters are like real people with lives of their own.
Sub-Culture by Sage Marlowe
MM erotic romance / BDSM / contemporary, novel (sequel to Sub-Mission)
Published by Total-E-Bound
Heat rating: Total-e-melting
Blurb:
When life gets on top, delving into a sub-culture may be just what it takes to keep a sinking relationship afloat.
Five years after the bumpy start to their relationship, Noah and Pierce have settled well into their lives as a happy couple. The arrival of a new child should have made their matrimonial bliss complete, but the strain of raising a baby and a teenager, combined with a lot of pressure in their jobs, is beginning to take its toll.
In the midst of what already is a potentially explosive situation, Noah’s younger brother Jonah comes to stay with them, forcing Noah to face the issues he still has regarding his homophobic parents and adding to the emotional pressure he is under.
When Noah starts behaving oddly and Pierce just can’t seem to put his jealousy to rest, the cracks in their relationship become too severe to ignore any longer. They struggle to keep their sinking love afloat but as Noah craves the comfort a certain sub-culture can offer, Pierce finds himself wondering just how far he is willing to step out of his own comfort zone to save their love.
Story excerpt:
"Fuck, not again!" Shifting, Noah snatched the duvet under his arm, turned around and buried his head in the pillow.
"Uh, it’s your turn, love," Pierce reminded him, struggling a little to recall how to work his voice, if only he wasn’t so incredibly, mind-numbingly tired. He dragged an eyelid open and glanced at the clock on the nightstand, but only because it was there anyway, straight in his blurry line of vision. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have bothered.
An assembly of cool, greenish dashes informed him that it was half past two. That meant he would have three more hours of sleep until he had to get up. Noah would have four—in theory.
"No way!" Noah’s protest was muffled by the pile of pillows and duvet he’d buried himself under, but was nonetheless vehement. "It was my turn last night already."
"Sorry," Pierce mumbled, half apologetic, half relieved and completely anaesthetised with fatigue. "That was the night before last."
"Fuck." He felt the mattress bounce as Noah sat up. There was a noisy inhalation of breath—Noah yawning. "Shouldn’t he be able to make it through the night without another feed by now anyway?"
Right on cue, another long, heartbreaking and ear-splitting wail sliced through what was left of the night’s peace and quiet.
"Try telling him that," Pierce retorted.
"Pheebs stopped needing night feeds—"
"When she was six months old. I know. But Phinneas just isn’t Phoebe. He is who he is and he happens to need his milk at night so we have to give it to him. You have to give it to him."
"Yeah, right," Noah grunted but pushed to his feet. "Coming," he grumbled on the way out into the hall, then, seconds later, his voice sounded much gentler as he said, "Well, hello, you little sleepless gremlin. Got the munchies again, haven’t you?" More words followed, but they were too low for Pierce to make them out. Knowing Noah, it was a mix of sweet little nothings and good-humoured insults, which was his usual way of dealing with the baby whenever he was overtired and needed to vent some of the resulting grumpiness. Noah would never allow himself to let the fiery side of his temper show around either of their two children. It was what made him a wonderful dad—part of it, anyway. He was patient, generous, funny… Pierce found it increasingly hard to focus on the noises Noah was making in the kitchen while he was preparing the baby’s bottle.
No, they weren’t in the kitchen any longer. Already, Noah’s light-hearted chatter was growing louder as he approached their door on the way back to Baby Phin’s bedroom. Listening to the soothing, familiar tone of Noah’s voice, Pierce let the sweet melody of the faint accent in it lull him back to sleep.
The peace didn’t last long. Thirty minutes, according to the cool, greenish dashes on the alarm clock. The mattress bounced again but, instead of Noah’s six foot tall, hard-muscled body, something—or rather someone—significantly smaller, and also a lot bonier, crept into Pierce’s bed. A tiny, but pointed elbow hit him in the ribs with an accuracy that would have made a professional wrestler proud.
"Fu—Phoebe!" Pierce gasped as the air left his lungs a lot faster than he’d intended it to. "What are you doing here?" He rubbed the spot just left of his sternum. It was going to turn into a nasty bruise.
"Phin woke me up," Phoebe complained.
"That’s no reason to be out of bed at this time," Pierce pointed out.
"But I can’t sleep."
"No, of course you can’t sleep when you’re walking around and—Oi!"
Occupying the space Noah had deserted only half an hour ago, Phoebe had snatched the duvet in a very good imitation of her father. Just like he had earlier, she turned around, buried her head in his pillow and started snoring. So much for not being able to sleep.
Pierce knew he should move her, but the notion of getting out of his warm, almost comfortable nest was more than he could face. Besides, his own limbs felt like lead. How he was supposed to move with the added weight of a twelve-year-old if even his own body was too heavy for him to drag out of bed was beyond him. He was still contemplating whether or not he should try to carry her back into her own bed or simply ignore the late-night visitor and go back to sleep when Noah returned. Another half-hour had passed, as the numbers on the alarm clock pointed out.
"Taken," Pierce warned and indicated Noah’s side of the bed.
"Fan-fucking-tastic!" Hovering in front of the bed, Noah glared down at his sleeping child. "Why didn’t you tell her to go back to her own room?"
"Couldn’t. By the time I realised what was happening, she was already rolled into that duvet, tight as a tick. What was up with Phin? You’ve been gone quite long."
"I know." Noah let out an exasperated sigh. Or maybe it was just another yawn. "I had to change him after I fed him, then he was awake and wanted to play, puked on himself, so I had to change his clothes again—the usual." He watched Phoebe for another moment, then he murmured, "What do you think I should do about her now?"
Buy links
Amazon
Total-E-Bound
All Romance Ebooks
About the author
Sage is a multi-published author of gay erotic romance and loves taking romance to the edge. The edge of passion, the edge of pleasure, the edge of propriety.
Hopelessly in love with books from a very early age on, Sage has dreamt of writing one for years while working on the day job instead. It took a very persistent character in the company of a much-adored Muse to finally get the first novel going. The fact that this gorgeous guy was gay came as a bit of a surprise, but it explained a lot.
Ever since, Sage has been the willing slave to all the fascinating guys who just keep queuing up and want their stories told. This has resulted in several published books and countless manuscripts at various stages of completion, so there's always something to work on—preferably at night when the rest of the house is asleep.
Sage’s characters often have a dramatic and sometimes traumatic past and need to battle some demons to be with the one they love. But don’t worry, they get quite a lot of naughty action along the way to keep them happy and there will always be a happy end!
Contact
Sage’s website & blog
Facebook
e-mail: marlowe.sage@yahoo.co.uk
Twitter: @SageMarlowe
Goodreads
Depends on who’s wearing them
Favorite position to write?
On the sofa, legs up and laptop on lap or in bed, snuggled up and typing on the phone
Favorite kink to write?
I love toys…
Tattoos or piercings?
Both
Cut, uncut or I love them all?
I love them all
What's your favorite thing about Sub-Culture?
Sub-Culture is the sequel to my debut novel, Sub-Mission. That alone makes it one of my favourites. I loved revisiting Noah and Pierce and finding out how they were doing after five years. They had surprised me quite a bit with their extended cameo appearance in Re-Submission, especially when Pierce wanted a baby. Well, that is probably my favourite thing about the entire Sub-series – the characters are like real people with lives of their own.
Sub-Culture by Sage Marlowe
MM erotic romance / BDSM / contemporary, novel (sequel to Sub-Mission)
Published by Total-E-Bound
Heat rating: Total-e-melting
Blurb:
When life gets on top, delving into a sub-culture may be just what it takes to keep a sinking relationship afloat.
Five years after the bumpy start to their relationship, Noah and Pierce have settled well into their lives as a happy couple. The arrival of a new child should have made their matrimonial bliss complete, but the strain of raising a baby and a teenager, combined with a lot of pressure in their jobs, is beginning to take its toll.
In the midst of what already is a potentially explosive situation, Noah’s younger brother Jonah comes to stay with them, forcing Noah to face the issues he still has regarding his homophobic parents and adding to the emotional pressure he is under.
When Noah starts behaving oddly and Pierce just can’t seem to put his jealousy to rest, the cracks in their relationship become too severe to ignore any longer. They struggle to keep their sinking love afloat but as Noah craves the comfort a certain sub-culture can offer, Pierce finds himself wondering just how far he is willing to step out of his own comfort zone to save their love.
Story excerpt:
"Fuck, not again!" Shifting, Noah snatched the duvet under his arm, turned around and buried his head in the pillow.
"Uh, it’s your turn, love," Pierce reminded him, struggling a little to recall how to work his voice, if only he wasn’t so incredibly, mind-numbingly tired. He dragged an eyelid open and glanced at the clock on the nightstand, but only because it was there anyway, straight in his blurry line of vision. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have bothered.
An assembly of cool, greenish dashes informed him that it was half past two. That meant he would have three more hours of sleep until he had to get up. Noah would have four—in theory.
"No way!" Noah’s protest was muffled by the pile of pillows and duvet he’d buried himself under, but was nonetheless vehement. "It was my turn last night already."
"Sorry," Pierce mumbled, half apologetic, half relieved and completely anaesthetised with fatigue. "That was the night before last."
"Fuck." He felt the mattress bounce as Noah sat up. There was a noisy inhalation of breath—Noah yawning. "Shouldn’t he be able to make it through the night without another feed by now anyway?"
Right on cue, another long, heartbreaking and ear-splitting wail sliced through what was left of the night’s peace and quiet.
"Try telling him that," Pierce retorted.
"Pheebs stopped needing night feeds—"
"When she was six months old. I know. But Phinneas just isn’t Phoebe. He is who he is and he happens to need his milk at night so we have to give it to him. You have to give it to him."
"Yeah, right," Noah grunted but pushed to his feet. "Coming," he grumbled on the way out into the hall, then, seconds later, his voice sounded much gentler as he said, "Well, hello, you little sleepless gremlin. Got the munchies again, haven’t you?" More words followed, but they were too low for Pierce to make them out. Knowing Noah, it was a mix of sweet little nothings and good-humoured insults, which was his usual way of dealing with the baby whenever he was overtired and needed to vent some of the resulting grumpiness. Noah would never allow himself to let the fiery side of his temper show around either of their two children. It was what made him a wonderful dad—part of it, anyway. He was patient, generous, funny… Pierce found it increasingly hard to focus on the noises Noah was making in the kitchen while he was preparing the baby’s bottle.
No, they weren’t in the kitchen any longer. Already, Noah’s light-hearted chatter was growing louder as he approached their door on the way back to Baby Phin’s bedroom. Listening to the soothing, familiar tone of Noah’s voice, Pierce let the sweet melody of the faint accent in it lull him back to sleep.
The peace didn’t last long. Thirty minutes, according to the cool, greenish dashes on the alarm clock. The mattress bounced again but, instead of Noah’s six foot tall, hard-muscled body, something—or rather someone—significantly smaller, and also a lot bonier, crept into Pierce’s bed. A tiny, but pointed elbow hit him in the ribs with an accuracy that would have made a professional wrestler proud.
"Fu—Phoebe!" Pierce gasped as the air left his lungs a lot faster than he’d intended it to. "What are you doing here?" He rubbed the spot just left of his sternum. It was going to turn into a nasty bruise.
"Phin woke me up," Phoebe complained.
"That’s no reason to be out of bed at this time," Pierce pointed out.
"But I can’t sleep."
"No, of course you can’t sleep when you’re walking around and—Oi!"
Occupying the space Noah had deserted only half an hour ago, Phoebe had snatched the duvet in a very good imitation of her father. Just like he had earlier, she turned around, buried her head in his pillow and started snoring. So much for not being able to sleep.
Pierce knew he should move her, but the notion of getting out of his warm, almost comfortable nest was more than he could face. Besides, his own limbs felt like lead. How he was supposed to move with the added weight of a twelve-year-old if even his own body was too heavy for him to drag out of bed was beyond him. He was still contemplating whether or not he should try to carry her back into her own bed or simply ignore the late-night visitor and go back to sleep when Noah returned. Another half-hour had passed, as the numbers on the alarm clock pointed out.
"Taken," Pierce warned and indicated Noah’s side of the bed.
"Fan-fucking-tastic!" Hovering in front of the bed, Noah glared down at his sleeping child. "Why didn’t you tell her to go back to her own room?"
"Couldn’t. By the time I realised what was happening, she was already rolled into that duvet, tight as a tick. What was up with Phin? You’ve been gone quite long."
"I know." Noah let out an exasperated sigh. Or maybe it was just another yawn. "I had to change him after I fed him, then he was awake and wanted to play, puked on himself, so I had to change his clothes again—the usual." He watched Phoebe for another moment, then he murmured, "What do you think I should do about her now?"
Buy links
Amazon
Total-E-Bound
All Romance Ebooks
About the author
Sage is a multi-published author of gay erotic romance and loves taking romance to the edge. The edge of passion, the edge of pleasure, the edge of propriety.
Hopelessly in love with books from a very early age on, Sage has dreamt of writing one for years while working on the day job instead. It took a very persistent character in the company of a much-adored Muse to finally get the first novel going. The fact that this gorgeous guy was gay came as a bit of a surprise, but it explained a lot.
Ever since, Sage has been the willing slave to all the fascinating guys who just keep queuing up and want their stories told. This has resulted in several published books and countless manuscripts at various stages of completion, so there's always something to work on—preferably at night when the rest of the house is asleep.
Sage’s characters often have a dramatic and sometimes traumatic past and need to battle some demons to be with the one they love. But don’t worry, they get quite a lot of naughty action along the way to keep them happy and there will always be a happy end!
Contact
Sage’s website & blog
e-mail: marlowe.sage@yahoo.co.uk
Twitter: @SageMarlowe
Goodreads
March 11, 2013
My God It's Monday
Two yummy new covers to share today:
Treat is a novella and will be out at Torquere Press on March 20 -- it follows Treat and Killian post Beaten.
Revving it Up is a short story and will be out at Amber Allure on April 28.
En Prise is out in general release today!
Book three in the Chess Series
Just when things seem to be at their best, disaster strikes. Will all the men of Chess survive?
It’s the holiday season and Jason is having the best Christmas he can remember in a long time. He’s in love with Rook and settling in with Bishop and Knight, figuring out where he fits and learning to love their appetites. He might even be feeling like he belongs.
Holiday bliss is followed by disaster, though, when Knight is involved in an accident and is hospitalized. Will Jason, Bishop and Rook be able to rally around their lover and each other? Or will the strain put on their relationship tear them all apart?
Follow the moves made by the men of Chess and find out…
I will be guest blogging at TRS Blue tomorrow. I shall have to find a not safe for work excerpt or two to post!
Tomorrow's guest author is Sage Marlowe.
Treat is a novella and will be out at Torquere Press on March 20 -- it follows Treat and Killian post Beaten.
Revving it Up is a short story and will be out at Amber Allure on April 28.
En Prise is out in general release today!
Book three in the Chess Series
Just when things seem to be at their best, disaster strikes. Will all the men of Chess survive?
It’s the holiday season and Jason is having the best Christmas he can remember in a long time. He’s in love with Rook and settling in with Bishop and Knight, figuring out where he fits and learning to love their appetites. He might even be feeling like he belongs.
Holiday bliss is followed by disaster, though, when Knight is involved in an accident and is hospitalized. Will Jason, Bishop and Rook be able to rally around their lover and each other? Or will the strain put on their relationship tear them all apart?
Follow the moves made by the men of Chess and find out…
I will be guest blogging at TRS Blue tomorrow. I shall have to find a not safe for work excerpt or two to post!
Tomorrow's guest author is Sage Marlowe.
March 10, 2013
Time Change
I do not like it.
That is all.
That is all.
March 8, 2013
Fiction Friday
Seth wanted out.
He knew there was something going on; he knew it, and he wanted out. His tail lashed as he paced, horns feeling heavy on his head. Michael slipped into the room, bringing with him a fresh, bright scent. He sniffed, turned toward his angel. He wanted to get Michael out, too.
Michael gave him a brilliant smile. "There's my little devil. I was looking for you out on the floor. You weren't there. Obviously."
"I was busy, beloved." He reached out, hands sliding around Michael's waist.
"And what are you so busy doing here? Machinating, no doubt."
"That's me, the machinating wonder." He thought about things so much more than Michael. Worried.
"Which sounds way dirtier than it is." Michael laughed and pushed close, mouth meeting his. Seth blinked, the heat and hunger behind the kiss surprising him, stunning him.
Michael groaned, hands sliding around to his ass. One grabbed a cheek, the other felt him up before grabbing onto his tail through his trousers. He thought about asking what was up, but his mouth was busy, hungry. Michael didn't seem inclined to stop kissing and explain, either, his lover proving he wasn't in a very angelic mood at all.
Seth hummed, tongue licking into Michael's lips, tasting. Michael's fingers slid away from his tail and ass, moving to start undoing his buttons. His lover moved so slowly, teasing terribly.
"You're hungry." As was he.
"You make me hungry. I swear, Seth, I can't ever get enough."
He chuckled. "I don't sate you?"
"You do. But I'm addicted to it. To you." Michael licked at his lips, tongue hot.
"My angel." His claws wrapped around Michael's hips, dragged him in close.
"Yes. Yours." Michael bucked, rubbing their groins together. He could feel his lover's heat, hard and full, pressing against his own needy cock.
He dropped to his knees, mouth on Michael's slacks. "Fuck my lips, beloved. Show me."
"Fuck! Shit, yes. Wanna fuck your mouth with my cock." Such a filthy mouth, his Michael had. Especially for an angel.
His dear fallen angel. He opened Michael's fly, the heavy cock pushing out toward his lips. Moaning, Michael wrapped his hands around Seth's head and fed that wet-tipped cock into his mouth.
Sweet. His angel was sweet. He moaned, pulling Michael deeper and swallowing, adoring the flesh on his tongue.
"Seth. Oh, my demon -- such a wicked tongue you have." Michael was beginning to pant, his hips starting to rock.
He curled the tip around the shaft, teasing, letting it drag.
"Fuck!" Michael bucked once, and then settled, letting him work.
That made Seth chuckled, so he did it again. And again. And again. Michael's hands tightened and loosened on his head, over and over, as sweet sounds poured down onto him. His tail lashed, horns growing, sliding into Michael's fingers.
"Yes! Seth!" Michael's fingers curled around them, pulled him in deeper.
He fed upon Michael's need, Michael's hunger.
Hips beginning to move again, Michael fucked his mouth. It was slow at first, long strokes sliding the thick cock along his tongue. The hands on his head moved in time, stroking up and down firmly.
"Seth, oh, Seth." Michael moved faster, cock and hands both, making him feel like he was the one getting the blow job.
Of course, he was a fan of reciprocity. A big fan.
"Gonna make me blow, devil-boy."
He chuckled -- he couldn't help it, laughing around the prick in his mouth. Michael laughed as well, the sound husky, needy as anything. Then that laugh morphed into a cry, Michael pushing deep as he came down Seth's throat.
Seth swallowed every drop down, groaning around the heavy cock. A deep shudder moved through Michael and his lover stayed buried, holding him on the long cock, keeping his nose buried in angel pubes.
He breathed slowly, eyes closed as he tasted his lover.
"You could keep me hard, you know."
He swallowed, nodded. If he did that, he'd get taken. Michael's smile promised him exactly that.
Thumbs rubbing his horns, Michael licked his lips and stayed buried right there. Seth watched Michael's face, swallowing hard, lips rubbing up and down the shaft. The heat in his angel's eyes was likely to burn him up on the spot. His hands ran over his body, driving his own arousal higher.
Michael's nostril's flared. "Okay, you sexy devil, get your ass up here and let me touch you."
He backed off, teasing the tip of his beloved's cock with his tongue. "Say please."
Groaning, Michael took a breath. "Please come up here so I can ravage your hot little body."
He chuckled and stood, his prick battering at his jeans.
"Better." Michael took his mouth, tongue sweeping in.
His fingers worked Michael's shirt open, off, while Michael just tore his.
"I'll buy you a new one," Michael told him, eyes flashing.
"Of course you will." He traced Michael's lips with his finger. His lover chased his finger, biting at the tip. "Toothy." He snapped back, tore open his jeans.
"Uh-huh. Pointy, too, in all the right places." Michael tugged his jeans down over his hips.
Seth's tail slid around, wrapped around Michael's wrist. Michael moaned; Seth knew how much he liked that.
"Bend over for me, lover."
He turned, swept the mess off the desk with one arm, bent and spread.
"Fuck, yes. Just like that." Michael's hands were on his hips. "You want the burn, lover?"
He had been made for the burn. He nodded, growled deep in his chest. "Beloved."
"I am yours." The hot prick pushed against his hole, hot and solid, and then it breached him. His entire body arched, claws digging into the top of the desk as he moved. "And you're mine." Michael pushed in hard. "Mine."
"Are you sure?" He thrilled at the possession, the need.
"More about this than anything else." Michael pushed in again, and then again.
Yes. His love bubbled up inside him, grew and spread, devouring everything else.
Michael set up a hard, eager rhythm, calling out his name. His tail wrapped around Michael's arm, holding them together, keeping them close. Michael's other hand circled his cock and began to pull.
"More." He wasn't too proud to beg.
"Everything." Faster, stronger, Michael pushed into his ass and pulled on his cock.
It wasn't until Michael's wings spread, though, the feathers battering against his sides, that he could come, moan and jerk and give himself up. He felt the heat of Michael's seed burn inside him, more than anything else ever had.
Then his own angel lay against him, panting softly, feathers resting all around him.
"Beloved." He reached out, fingers stroking the feathers.
"Yours, Seth, for all time." Michael kissed his shoulder and then took a deep breath. "Do you really think we have a chance? With the fantasy slots, I mean."
"I do." He had a soul to gamble with, after all.
Michael turned his head and pressed their mouths together. The kiss was awkward and wet and so very hot.
"All right, lover. Let's do it."
He knew there was something going on; he knew it, and he wanted out. His tail lashed as he paced, horns feeling heavy on his head. Michael slipped into the room, bringing with him a fresh, bright scent. He sniffed, turned toward his angel. He wanted to get Michael out, too.
Michael gave him a brilliant smile. "There's my little devil. I was looking for you out on the floor. You weren't there. Obviously."
"I was busy, beloved." He reached out, hands sliding around Michael's waist.
"And what are you so busy doing here? Machinating, no doubt."
"That's me, the machinating wonder." He thought about things so much more than Michael. Worried.
"Which sounds way dirtier than it is." Michael laughed and pushed close, mouth meeting his. Seth blinked, the heat and hunger behind the kiss surprising him, stunning him.
Michael groaned, hands sliding around to his ass. One grabbed a cheek, the other felt him up before grabbing onto his tail through his trousers. He thought about asking what was up, but his mouth was busy, hungry. Michael didn't seem inclined to stop kissing and explain, either, his lover proving he wasn't in a very angelic mood at all.
Seth hummed, tongue licking into Michael's lips, tasting. Michael's fingers slid away from his tail and ass, moving to start undoing his buttons. His lover moved so slowly, teasing terribly.
"You're hungry." As was he.
"You make me hungry. I swear, Seth, I can't ever get enough."
He chuckled. "I don't sate you?"
"You do. But I'm addicted to it. To you." Michael licked at his lips, tongue hot.
"My angel." His claws wrapped around Michael's hips, dragged him in close.
"Yes. Yours." Michael bucked, rubbing their groins together. He could feel his lover's heat, hard and full, pressing against his own needy cock.
He dropped to his knees, mouth on Michael's slacks. "Fuck my lips, beloved. Show me."
"Fuck! Shit, yes. Wanna fuck your mouth with my cock." Such a filthy mouth, his Michael had. Especially for an angel.
His dear fallen angel. He opened Michael's fly, the heavy cock pushing out toward his lips. Moaning, Michael wrapped his hands around Seth's head and fed that wet-tipped cock into his mouth.
Sweet. His angel was sweet. He moaned, pulling Michael deeper and swallowing, adoring the flesh on his tongue.
"Seth. Oh, my demon -- such a wicked tongue you have." Michael was beginning to pant, his hips starting to rock.
He curled the tip around the shaft, teasing, letting it drag.
"Fuck!" Michael bucked once, and then settled, letting him work.
That made Seth chuckled, so he did it again. And again. And again. Michael's hands tightened and loosened on his head, over and over, as sweet sounds poured down onto him. His tail lashed, horns growing, sliding into Michael's fingers.
"Yes! Seth!" Michael's fingers curled around them, pulled him in deeper.
He fed upon Michael's need, Michael's hunger.
Hips beginning to move again, Michael fucked his mouth. It was slow at first, long strokes sliding the thick cock along his tongue. The hands on his head moved in time, stroking up and down firmly.
"Seth, oh, Seth." Michael moved faster, cock and hands both, making him feel like he was the one getting the blow job.
Of course, he was a fan of reciprocity. A big fan.
"Gonna make me blow, devil-boy."
He chuckled -- he couldn't help it, laughing around the prick in his mouth. Michael laughed as well, the sound husky, needy as anything. Then that laugh morphed into a cry, Michael pushing deep as he came down Seth's throat.
Seth swallowed every drop down, groaning around the heavy cock. A deep shudder moved through Michael and his lover stayed buried, holding him on the long cock, keeping his nose buried in angel pubes.
He breathed slowly, eyes closed as he tasted his lover.
"You could keep me hard, you know."
He swallowed, nodded. If he did that, he'd get taken. Michael's smile promised him exactly that.
Thumbs rubbing his horns, Michael licked his lips and stayed buried right there. Seth watched Michael's face, swallowing hard, lips rubbing up and down the shaft. The heat in his angel's eyes was likely to burn him up on the spot. His hands ran over his body, driving his own arousal higher.
Michael's nostril's flared. "Okay, you sexy devil, get your ass up here and let me touch you."
He backed off, teasing the tip of his beloved's cock with his tongue. "Say please."
Groaning, Michael took a breath. "Please come up here so I can ravage your hot little body."
He chuckled and stood, his prick battering at his jeans.
"Better." Michael took his mouth, tongue sweeping in.
His fingers worked Michael's shirt open, off, while Michael just tore his.
"I'll buy you a new one," Michael told him, eyes flashing.
"Of course you will." He traced Michael's lips with his finger. His lover chased his finger, biting at the tip. "Toothy." He snapped back, tore open his jeans.
"Uh-huh. Pointy, too, in all the right places." Michael tugged his jeans down over his hips.
Seth's tail slid around, wrapped around Michael's wrist. Michael moaned; Seth knew how much he liked that.
"Bend over for me, lover."
He turned, swept the mess off the desk with one arm, bent and spread.
"Fuck, yes. Just like that." Michael's hands were on his hips. "You want the burn, lover?"
He had been made for the burn. He nodded, growled deep in his chest. "Beloved."
"I am yours." The hot prick pushed against his hole, hot and solid, and then it breached him. His entire body arched, claws digging into the top of the desk as he moved. "And you're mine." Michael pushed in hard. "Mine."
"Are you sure?" He thrilled at the possession, the need.
"More about this than anything else." Michael pushed in again, and then again.
Yes. His love bubbled up inside him, grew and spread, devouring everything else.
Michael set up a hard, eager rhythm, calling out his name. His tail wrapped around Michael's arm, holding them together, keeping them close. Michael's other hand circled his cock and began to pull.
"More." He wasn't too proud to beg.
"Everything." Faster, stronger, Michael pushed into his ass and pulled on his cock.
It wasn't until Michael's wings spread, though, the feathers battering against his sides, that he could come, moan and jerk and give himself up. He felt the heat of Michael's seed burn inside him, more than anything else ever had.
Then his own angel lay against him, panting softly, feathers resting all around him.
"Beloved." He reached out, fingers stroking the feathers.
"Yours, Seth, for all time." Michael kissed his shoulder and then took a deep breath. "Do you really think we have a chance? With the fantasy slots, I mean."
"I do." He had a soul to gamble with, after all.
Michael turned his head and pressed their mouths together. The kiss was awkward and wet and so very hot.
"All right, lover. Let's do it."
March 6, 2013
SWAK: Plugs
It's out!
For a year, Blake has been working toward making love with his Master, Archer. You name it they’ve done it, except for that one act. Tonight, the waiting is over. Blake is naked, prepared, and waiting for his Master to take him.
When his Master arrives and finds Blake might have gone too far in preparing himself, though, a punishment of six plugs is given before Blake can have what he so desperately wants.
Will the night end the way he’s been dreaming and bring Blake and Archer closer together, or will one thing not lead to another?
you can buy it here
“Now, boy,” he says, picking up his crop. “Beg me to punish you. Beg me to whip that baby hole.”
Oh, sweet fucking God. My entire body tenses, and my legs shake. I can’t. I can’t. But fuck, I want him. I want him to finally fuck me, shoot inside me. Mark me as his.
I can feel the air moving against my ass as he tests the crop. Hell, I can hear the sound it makes, like a promise.
“I’m waiting.”
I open my mouth to growl at him, to tell him to back the fuck off and leave me alone. I’ll just go. I’ll find a man who wants me as badly as I fucking need him. I’m just going to tell him I’m done. I quit. I don’t fucking want him anymore.
“Please, Master. Please whip my hole. I fucked myself with my fingers, wanting it to be you.”
His chuckle is dark, husky, knowing. “How many blows do you deserve, little boy.”
Well, fuck.
What the fuck is the right answer?
For a year, Blake has been working toward making love with his Master, Archer. You name it they’ve done it, except for that one act. Tonight, the waiting is over. Blake is naked, prepared, and waiting for his Master to take him.
When his Master arrives and finds Blake might have gone too far in preparing himself, though, a punishment of six plugs is given before Blake can have what he so desperately wants.
Will the night end the way he’s been dreaming and bring Blake and Archer closer together, or will one thing not lead to another?
you can buy it here
“Now, boy,” he says, picking up his crop. “Beg me to punish you. Beg me to whip that baby hole.”
Oh, sweet fucking God. My entire body tenses, and my legs shake. I can’t. I can’t. But fuck, I want him. I want him to finally fuck me, shoot inside me. Mark me as his.
I can feel the air moving against my ass as he tests the crop. Hell, I can hear the sound it makes, like a promise.
“I’m waiting.”
I open my mouth to growl at him, to tell him to back the fuck off and leave me alone. I’ll just go. I’ll find a man who wants me as badly as I fucking need him. I’m just going to tell him I’m done. I quit. I don’t fucking want him anymore.
“Please, Master. Please whip my hole. I fucked myself with my fingers, wanting it to be you.”
His chuckle is dark, husky, knowing. “How many blows do you deserve, little boy.”
Well, fuck.
What the fuck is the right answer?
Hump Day!
It's Wednesday, which means it's Hump Day, and any day that's called Hump Day can't be all bad, can it?
I'm taking part in Renee George's 31 Days of Menage. I'm today and March 23.
Tanny and the Cage is out!
Billy and Montana have been busy lately, focusing on things outside of their relationship, and it's led to disaster. Can they find themselves and each other again in the tools and toys of their relationship? Billy and Montana are featured in the popular Hammer series.
Originally published in Toy Box: Cage
you can buy it here
I'll be back with details on SWAK: Plugs once it's up!
I'm taking part in Renee George's 31 Days of Menage. I'm today and March 23.
Tanny and the Cage is out!
Billy and Montana have been busy lately, focusing on things outside of their relationship, and it's led to disaster. Can they find themselves and each other again in the tools and toys of their relationship? Billy and Montana are featured in the popular Hammer series.
Originally published in Toy Box: Cage
you can buy it here
I'll be back with details on SWAK: Plugs once it's up!
March 5, 2013
Author Spotlight Tuesday -- BA Tortuga
Boxers or briefs?
I have to admit, I'm a tighty-whitey gal.
Favorite position to write?
Sitting in my chair? Oh. Oh, you mean fucking... I love writing a good blow job, really. It can be more intimate than intercourse.
Favorite kink to write?
I love a writing a guy that has a biting kink. There's something feral about it.
Tattoos or piercings?
Tattoos. My boys and girls tend to be more inked than metaled.
Cut, uncut or I love them all?
Cut, for sure. Remembering foreskins is hard. (Dude, that could be on a shirt...)
What's your favorite thing about Fighting Addiction?
Oh, man. That one was tough. I love these boys, I love how they ate my brain, I love how they're still so alive. I love how they're musicians and southerners and so real...
*babbles and flails*
***
Country hat act Markus Kane is pretty skeptical when one of his oldest industry friends calls and asks him to do a joint tour. He and Seb haven’t seen each other in years, not since Markus quit drinking. Maybe not since he and Sebastian Longchamps almost lost their careers to the fact that they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.
Sebastian is a country-fried Cajun rocker, and he’s been missing Markus ever since they broke up all those years ago. His label thinks he and Markus are a match made in ticket-sales heaven, but Seb knows better. He knows that it won’t take even the tiniest effort for Markus to break his heart all over again, and this time around he has way more to lose.
Time has changed both men, though, and while Markus and Seb try to fight their addictions, the big music industry machine has plans for them that don’t include the quiet life. Can Markus convince Sebastian that there are things more important in life than adrenaline and control? And can Sebastian make Markus understand that all he really wants is his music and his man?
buy link
Excerpt:
"You still want that ballad?"
"Yep. Girls love those, and they sell."
"We might have to watch some chick flicks."
Markus strummed a little ching-a-ling. "I haven't had much romance."
"That's a fucking shame." He blinked,
ducked his chin. "Sorry, man. Uh... Love gone wrong? New love? Booty call?"
"Booty call is very in." He couldn't look at Candy at all, not with the way the man's voice had gone gravelly.
"Yeah. Yeah. Old lovers needing to get it on?" Seb knew his cheeks were burning. He could so get it on with that long, muscled hardbody.
"That works. I think people can relate."
When he did finally glance up, those dark eyes were pointed down toward the guitar and Candy's face was bright red.
"Yeah. Yeah." He chuckled softly. "We got something to build on, for the song, I mean."
"We do." Now he got a sideways glance. "I mean, we ought to know, as old as we are."
"Positively ancient, you and me."
Asshole.
"Yep. You're a year older."
Oh, that deserved something. Ice water to the chest maybe. Sebastian took a drink of his water, then went for it, squirting the hairy bastard smack between the nipples.
"Fuck! You little shit." In a flash, Markus had gently tossed the guitar aside and was hunting his ass. He backed up, brandishing the water bottle, this time getting Candy in the crotch. "Jesus."
He could almost see things shrivel. Taking time to gloat was a mistake, though. He ended up in the pool, Candy pulling a wrestling move on him. Like TV wrestling.
He floated up to the surface, treading water, sputtering and laughing. "Caveman!"
Markus yodeled. "You know it."
He flattened his hand and sent a huge wave from the pool, right at the big gorilla. The big gorilla who was now soaked.
"Yeehaw." Markus did a cannonball, sending water right into his face.
He dove deep, pinching Markus' ass as he moved underneath, swimming hard. The man was a fine swimmer, pacing him pretty good considering the head start he had. They reached the side of the pool at the same time, bodies slamming together.
His abs rolled, his hips bucking in a dance move older than music. For a long moment Markus rocked back against him, and that hard cock made itself known. Then Candy pulled away, pushing up out of the Pool.
Sebastian took a couple of laps, cursing himself for all sorts of a fool. They weren't starting this shit again. Not at all. They couldn't afford to. Oh, he could pay people off with even more money than before, but it had damned near killed him to lose Candy the first time. He wasn't as strong as he used to be. Sometimes he thought that it would only take one more earthquake for his internal framework to come crashing down. God was a shitty contractor, taking the lowest bidder.
That would make a decent lyric, really.
***
I'd like to give away a signed copy of the print book. :D Leave a comment for a chance to win.
*kisses her bestie*
Thanks for letting me play, babe.
Much love, y'all.
BA
I have to admit, I'm a tighty-whitey gal.
Favorite position to write?
Sitting in my chair? Oh. Oh, you mean fucking... I love writing a good blow job, really. It can be more intimate than intercourse.
Favorite kink to write?
I love a writing a guy that has a biting kink. There's something feral about it.
Tattoos or piercings?
Tattoos. My boys and girls tend to be more inked than metaled.
Cut, uncut or I love them all?
Cut, for sure. Remembering foreskins is hard. (Dude, that could be on a shirt...)
What's your favorite thing about Fighting Addiction?
Oh, man. That one was tough. I love these boys, I love how they ate my brain, I love how they're still so alive. I love how they're musicians and southerners and so real...
*babbles and flails*
***
Country hat act Markus Kane is pretty skeptical when one of his oldest industry friends calls and asks him to do a joint tour. He and Seb haven’t seen each other in years, not since Markus quit drinking. Maybe not since he and Sebastian Longchamps almost lost their careers to the fact that they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.
Sebastian is a country-fried Cajun rocker, and he’s been missing Markus ever since they broke up all those years ago. His label thinks he and Markus are a match made in ticket-sales heaven, but Seb knows better. He knows that it won’t take even the tiniest effort for Markus to break his heart all over again, and this time around he has way more to lose.
Time has changed both men, though, and while Markus and Seb try to fight their addictions, the big music industry machine has plans for them that don’t include the quiet life. Can Markus convince Sebastian that there are things more important in life than adrenaline and control? And can Sebastian make Markus understand that all he really wants is his music and his man?
buy link
Excerpt:
"You still want that ballad?"
"Yep. Girls love those, and they sell."
"We might have to watch some chick flicks."
Markus strummed a little ching-a-ling. "I haven't had much romance."
"That's a fucking shame." He blinked,
ducked his chin. "Sorry, man. Uh... Love gone wrong? New love? Booty call?"
"Booty call is very in." He couldn't look at Candy at all, not with the way the man's voice had gone gravelly.
"Yeah. Yeah. Old lovers needing to get it on?" Seb knew his cheeks were burning. He could so get it on with that long, muscled hardbody.
"That works. I think people can relate."
When he did finally glance up, those dark eyes were pointed down toward the guitar and Candy's face was bright red.
"Yeah. Yeah." He chuckled softly. "We got something to build on, for the song, I mean."
"We do." Now he got a sideways glance. "I mean, we ought to know, as old as we are."
"Positively ancient, you and me."
Asshole.
"Yep. You're a year older."
Oh, that deserved something. Ice water to the chest maybe. Sebastian took a drink of his water, then went for it, squirting the hairy bastard smack between the nipples.
"Fuck! You little shit." In a flash, Markus had gently tossed the guitar aside and was hunting his ass. He backed up, brandishing the water bottle, this time getting Candy in the crotch. "Jesus."
He could almost see things shrivel. Taking time to gloat was a mistake, though. He ended up in the pool, Candy pulling a wrestling move on him. Like TV wrestling.
He floated up to the surface, treading water, sputtering and laughing. "Caveman!"
Markus yodeled. "You know it."
He flattened his hand and sent a huge wave from the pool, right at the big gorilla. The big gorilla who was now soaked.
"Yeehaw." Markus did a cannonball, sending water right into his face.
He dove deep, pinching Markus' ass as he moved underneath, swimming hard. The man was a fine swimmer, pacing him pretty good considering the head start he had. They reached the side of the pool at the same time, bodies slamming together.
His abs rolled, his hips bucking in a dance move older than music. For a long moment Markus rocked back against him, and that hard cock made itself known. Then Candy pulled away, pushing up out of the Pool.
Sebastian took a couple of laps, cursing himself for all sorts of a fool. They weren't starting this shit again. Not at all. They couldn't afford to. Oh, he could pay people off with even more money than before, but it had damned near killed him to lose Candy the first time. He wasn't as strong as he used to be. Sometimes he thought that it would only take one more earthquake for his internal framework to come crashing down. God was a shitty contractor, taking the lowest bidder.
That would make a decent lyric, really.
***
I'd like to give away a signed copy of the print book. :D Leave a comment for a chance to win.
*kisses her bestie*
Thanks for letting me play, babe.
Much love, y'all.
BA
March 4, 2013
My God It's Monday
It's Monday and I don't know where the day went.
I'm having Chinese food tonight -- what's your favorite?
Tomorrow's my first guest author spot -- look for BA Tortuga's answers to my questions!
I have two books coming out on Wednesday -- SWAK: Plugs from Resplendence and Tanny and the Cage from Torquere Press.
Okay, that was all very random, but it's been that kind of day today.
I'm having Chinese food tonight -- what's your favorite?
Tomorrow's my first guest author spot -- look for BA Tortuga's answers to my questions!
I have two books coming out on Wednesday -- SWAK: Plugs from Resplendence and Tanny and the Cage from Torquere Press.
Okay, that was all very random, but it's been that kind of day today.
March 2, 2013
Suddenly Saturday
Another week gone, another month gone.... there never seems to be enough time...
March is looking to be busy, too: lots of releases, lots of blogging around the place.
My Torquere Press books are on sale with a 25% on the spot rebate at All Romance Ebooks. You can find my titles here, and the rest of the Torquere Press titles here.
Speaking of All Romance Ebooks, Royal Flush is number three on their top ten bestsellers list!
I have a bunch of stuff to prepare for submission and submit, and some errands to run, but otherwise, I'm planning on being lazy this weekend. Of course I'll blink and it'll be Morning morning again...
March is looking to be busy, too: lots of releases, lots of blogging around the place.
My Torquere Press books are on sale with a 25% on the spot rebate at All Romance Ebooks. You can find my titles here, and the rest of the Torquere Press titles here.
Speaking of All Romance Ebooks, Royal Flush is number three on their top ten bestsellers list!
I have a bunch of stuff to prepare for submission and submit, and some errands to run, but otherwise, I'm planning on being lazy this weekend. Of course I'll blink and it'll be Morning morning again...
March 1, 2013
Fiction Friday
Apologies for taking so long to get back to these! The previous chapters can be found under the club fantasy tag
Club Fantasy - Chapter 39
Robin locked the door to the club, pocketed the key and headed home. It was a nice enough night, though the breeze was a little colder than he liked. He should have brought a sweatshirt or jacket or something to wear home. He'd forget that it was often colder at night when his shift finished than the afternoons when it started. You'd think after all the nights he'd walked home, he'd remember that.
The streets were quiet at this hour of night, so there wasn't anyone to dodge as he hurried home.
All of a sudden, someone grabbed him from behind and shoved him in a doorway and up against the door. The big body pushed hard behind him, allowing him no chance of escape.
"You've been holding out on me."
"Lazlo? What the fuck, man?" Lazlo was his lover, not some random mugger or rapist or gay basher. Still, Robin didn't relax much; the man had come out of nowhere and wasn't sounding very friendly.
"It's been weeks since you've told me about any Fantasy Slot winners."
"What? Are you crazy?" Fear and surprise were rapidly turning to anger and he shoved back, got himself turned around to face his 'lover'. "There hasn't been any Fantasy Slot winners for ages, and even if there had been, why the fuck do you care so much?"
"There hasn't?" Lazlo took a step back and smoothed his shirt down over his shoulders, hands patting his muscles. Robin jerked away and finished the adjustments on his own.
"There hasn't." He shoved his hands in his pockets and started walking toward home again.
Lazlo fell into step with him.
"You always know when there is anyway."
Lazlo shrugged. "I could have missed one or two. It could happen."
"Is that all this is about?" He waved his hand between them, indicating... whatever it was they were doing where Lazlo would fuck him stupid and he'd spill the beans about everything he knew about the club, the slots and the owners.
"I told you, baby, I can't afford it to be more than that."
"Well, I don't know if I can afford it not to be."
Lazlo didn't say anything and the two of them kept walking in silence.
***
Michael paged through some paperwork and frowned. "Seth? Have you seen this?"
"Seen what?" Seth was standing at the window, watching the mostly empty parking lot.
"We haven't had a Fantasy winner in..." He shifted the pages back and forth. "Well, it's been a while. A long while." He tilted his head. "Do you think this is the boss' doing? Is he punishing us for not finding the 'leak' yet?"
"Could be. He gets pissy. We didn't have one recently? Really?"
"Nope. Lots of hook-ups, but no Fantasy Slots winner." He rubbed his neck and put the papers down. "I guess one'll eventually turn up -- odds are for it, right?"
"Maybe we should play."
"Play what? The Fantasy slots?" Michael laughed softly and reached out. "I already have my fantasy."
He did love how that made Seth smile, the tiny fangs glistening. He waved his hand, wanting Seth to come, to get a hug and to hold him.
Seth came to him, the scent of smoke ever present. "You're fluttery."
"I think maybe I need a distraction." And he knew exactly the kind of distraction he wanted. His arm slid around Seth's waist, his fingers searching for his lover's tail.
"We're supposed to be working." Seth bit his ear.
He jerked, his cock perking up at the sting. "I worked!" He pointed to the paperwork. He'd looked through it. He'd even signed a paper or two.
"Uh-huh." Seth's chuckle made him shudder.
"I did." He pushed his hand down Seth's pants and found the base of the trapped tail, stroked it. He knew how Seth craved his touch there, how it made his lover crazed. "I'm working now, working hard." Working to make his lover forget everything but him.
"This isn't working..." Seth's little horns swelled for him.
"No? What is it then?" He licked his lips, tried hard not to pant. His fingers kept working the nerves in Seth's tail.
"Perfect. Perfect, Beloved."
That had him moaning, and he put a hand behind Seth's head, tugging his own little devil down for a smoky kiss. Seth's tongue fucked his lips, the pressure sudden and perfect. He wrapped his hand around Seth's tail, holding on as the kiss went deeper and harder. His other hand slid around to tug at the buttons on Seth's shirt.
Seth's fingers were tearing at his dress shirt, searching for his wings. He shrugged it off as soon as he could, spreading his wings for his lover.
"Michael." Seth moaned, fingers on his feathers.
"I love that. The way you touch me." He shivered, stretched his feathers wider.
"Beloved." Those fingers moved and slid, caressing him.
"My own demon." He leaned against Seth, moaning at the continuing touches.
"Yes." Seth's sharp little teeth stung his shoulder.
"Don't stop," he ordered, hands moving around to undo Seth's trousers. His lover needed to be mussed, messed up a little. Made to growl.
"Demanding angel." His feathers were tugged, gently.
Moaning, he tugged out Seth's prick. "Yes."
The bites were alternated with tiny pulls to his wings.
"You blow my mind, Seth. Fucking blow it." He couldn't think, couldn't give Seth a proper tug or suck while his lover was doing that to him.
"I want you, need." Seth's words were a snarl, deep and rough.
"Yes. Yes." He pulled himself together and went to his knees, sucking in Seth's prick.
"Michael!" His own demon arched, cock slamming into his lips, pushing deep.
He swallowed and began pulling happily, sucking on Seth's prick like a Hoover. Those fingers found his wings again, the touch feather-light, maddening. He let his teeth drag lightly along the heated length. The smell of brimstone was sudden and sharp.
He began pulling again, the flavor of his lover making him drool.
"Hungry. Need." Seth's hips rolled, fucking his mouth over and over.
That was it. He wanted his lover's heat and flavor on his tongue, inside him. He would get it, too. Heat. Smoke. Pure unadulterated need. He slid his hand back to that tail again, stroking it as he sucked as hard as he could.
Seth's tail lashed, the pointed tip marking his wrist. His cock throbbed hard inside his pants and he swallowed around the head of his lover's cock. The roar shook the windows, and smoky seed burned his tongue. He took it all down, feeling it burning in his belly. Perfect.
"Beloved." Seth groaned for him. "Beloved angel."
He pulled slowly off. "Yours, my demon. All of me."
"Yes." Seth's eyes burned like coals. "We should play the game."
"The Fantasy Slots? Us?"
"Yes. I think so."
He looked up to Seth's face. "What's your fantasy, lover? I'll make it come true for you."
Seth leaned close, lips next to his ear. "I want us to be free, Michael."
Club Fantasy - Chapter 39
Robin locked the door to the club, pocketed the key and headed home. It was a nice enough night, though the breeze was a little colder than he liked. He should have brought a sweatshirt or jacket or something to wear home. He'd forget that it was often colder at night when his shift finished than the afternoons when it started. You'd think after all the nights he'd walked home, he'd remember that.
The streets were quiet at this hour of night, so there wasn't anyone to dodge as he hurried home.
All of a sudden, someone grabbed him from behind and shoved him in a doorway and up against the door. The big body pushed hard behind him, allowing him no chance of escape.
"You've been holding out on me."
"Lazlo? What the fuck, man?" Lazlo was his lover, not some random mugger or rapist or gay basher. Still, Robin didn't relax much; the man had come out of nowhere and wasn't sounding very friendly.
"It's been weeks since you've told me about any Fantasy Slot winners."
"What? Are you crazy?" Fear and surprise were rapidly turning to anger and he shoved back, got himself turned around to face his 'lover'. "There hasn't been any Fantasy Slot winners for ages, and even if there had been, why the fuck do you care so much?"
"There hasn't?" Lazlo took a step back and smoothed his shirt down over his shoulders, hands patting his muscles. Robin jerked away and finished the adjustments on his own.
"There hasn't." He shoved his hands in his pockets and started walking toward home again.
Lazlo fell into step with him.
"You always know when there is anyway."
Lazlo shrugged. "I could have missed one or two. It could happen."
"Is that all this is about?" He waved his hand between them, indicating... whatever it was they were doing where Lazlo would fuck him stupid and he'd spill the beans about everything he knew about the club, the slots and the owners.
"I told you, baby, I can't afford it to be more than that."
"Well, I don't know if I can afford it not to be."
Lazlo didn't say anything and the two of them kept walking in silence.
***
Michael paged through some paperwork and frowned. "Seth? Have you seen this?"
"Seen what?" Seth was standing at the window, watching the mostly empty parking lot.
"We haven't had a Fantasy winner in..." He shifted the pages back and forth. "Well, it's been a while. A long while." He tilted his head. "Do you think this is the boss' doing? Is he punishing us for not finding the 'leak' yet?"
"Could be. He gets pissy. We didn't have one recently? Really?"
"Nope. Lots of hook-ups, but no Fantasy Slots winner." He rubbed his neck and put the papers down. "I guess one'll eventually turn up -- odds are for it, right?"
"Maybe we should play."
"Play what? The Fantasy slots?" Michael laughed softly and reached out. "I already have my fantasy."
He did love how that made Seth smile, the tiny fangs glistening. He waved his hand, wanting Seth to come, to get a hug and to hold him.
Seth came to him, the scent of smoke ever present. "You're fluttery."
"I think maybe I need a distraction." And he knew exactly the kind of distraction he wanted. His arm slid around Seth's waist, his fingers searching for his lover's tail.
"We're supposed to be working." Seth bit his ear.
He jerked, his cock perking up at the sting. "I worked!" He pointed to the paperwork. He'd looked through it. He'd even signed a paper or two.
"Uh-huh." Seth's chuckle made him shudder.
"I did." He pushed his hand down Seth's pants and found the base of the trapped tail, stroked it. He knew how Seth craved his touch there, how it made his lover crazed. "I'm working now, working hard." Working to make his lover forget everything but him.
"This isn't working..." Seth's little horns swelled for him.
"No? What is it then?" He licked his lips, tried hard not to pant. His fingers kept working the nerves in Seth's tail.
"Perfect. Perfect, Beloved."
That had him moaning, and he put a hand behind Seth's head, tugging his own little devil down for a smoky kiss. Seth's tongue fucked his lips, the pressure sudden and perfect. He wrapped his hand around Seth's tail, holding on as the kiss went deeper and harder. His other hand slid around to tug at the buttons on Seth's shirt.
Seth's fingers were tearing at his dress shirt, searching for his wings. He shrugged it off as soon as he could, spreading his wings for his lover.
"Michael." Seth moaned, fingers on his feathers.
"I love that. The way you touch me." He shivered, stretched his feathers wider.
"Beloved." Those fingers moved and slid, caressing him.
"My own demon." He leaned against Seth, moaning at the continuing touches.
"Yes." Seth's sharp little teeth stung his shoulder.
"Don't stop," he ordered, hands moving around to undo Seth's trousers. His lover needed to be mussed, messed up a little. Made to growl.
"Demanding angel." His feathers were tugged, gently.
Moaning, he tugged out Seth's prick. "Yes."
The bites were alternated with tiny pulls to his wings.
"You blow my mind, Seth. Fucking blow it." He couldn't think, couldn't give Seth a proper tug or suck while his lover was doing that to him.
"I want you, need." Seth's words were a snarl, deep and rough.
"Yes. Yes." He pulled himself together and went to his knees, sucking in Seth's prick.
"Michael!" His own demon arched, cock slamming into his lips, pushing deep.
He swallowed and began pulling happily, sucking on Seth's prick like a Hoover. Those fingers found his wings again, the touch feather-light, maddening. He let his teeth drag lightly along the heated length. The smell of brimstone was sudden and sharp.
He began pulling again, the flavor of his lover making him drool.
"Hungry. Need." Seth's hips rolled, fucking his mouth over and over.
That was it. He wanted his lover's heat and flavor on his tongue, inside him. He would get it, too. Heat. Smoke. Pure unadulterated need. He slid his hand back to that tail again, stroking it as he sucked as hard as he could.
Seth's tail lashed, the pointed tip marking his wrist. His cock throbbed hard inside his pants and he swallowed around the head of his lover's cock. The roar shook the windows, and smoky seed burned his tongue. He took it all down, feeling it burning in his belly. Perfect.
"Beloved." Seth groaned for him. "Beloved angel."
He pulled slowly off. "Yours, my demon. All of me."
"Yes." Seth's eyes burned like coals. "We should play the game."
"The Fantasy Slots? Us?"
"Yes. I think so."
He looked up to Seth's face. "What's your fantasy, lover? I'll make it come true for you."
Seth leaned close, lips next to his ear. "I want us to be free, Michael."
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