Page 52

In the same weekend, I help Lysander move into my apartment and help Fitzie move into his apartment.

Lysander is easy — everything he owns fits in the back of my truck.

Fitzie has a lot more stuff than I expected, once delivered from his old place, and it takes us the whole day to unpack the massive pods and carry everything upstairs.

I’m definitely not imagining his new doorman giving us the stink-eye as we do.

With my ripped jeans, Orion’s mohawk-bun and t-shirt that says ‘Donate To Your Local Bartender’ with a pair of rainbow lips underneath, and Fitzie’s dancer chic, we’re not the demographic he’s used to.

“Wow.” I set the last box down on the pile.

There’s no furniture yet, but we put his mattress in the living room where a huge floor-to-ceiling window looks over a heated patio.

Beyond that is the stunning river valley — I can even see Whitecourt Lodge nestled in the mountain from here.

It’s a million dollar view, that’s for sure.

“No take-backsies from your boyfriend,” Fitzie threatens from his seat on top of the counter. He scarfs down another slice of pizza and finishes his soda.

“Aren’t we supposed to be the ones getting free food?” Orion asks dryly.

“When you’re done with the boxes, peon.” He points to the one I just set down. “That one goes into the bedroom.”

I snort. “As if you labeled them.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I have no clue what’s in these things. Just junk.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay here on your own?” I press.

It feels weird to ask, because I’m dying for some proper alone time with Lysander — Elsabeth is staying at The Sanctum, which means it’s been too weird to do anything while she’s next door, and with Fitzie on the couch at my apartment, we haven’t really had time to ourselves.

Well, lots of talking time. If silently making out like we’re teenagers counts as talking.

But we’ve talked so much my balls are starting to hurt.

Fitzie rolls his eyes. “It’s such a hardship to move into a place that’s three times the size of my last apartment and has an in-house dry cleaning service I can put on your boyfriend’s tab.”

“Felix. Seriously.” I grab the second last slice of pizza before he can lay claim and hand the box to Orion.

“Hey, we should have a housewarming party,” Orion says. “That deck looks perfect for a barbecue. Or a smoker. Larch wants to get into making smoked sausages. The guy is nuts, I tell you.”

“Seriously, Ezra, I’m good.” Fitzie’s legs swing back and forth lazily. I tell myself it’s happiness hiding in his half-cocked smile. “Really good. For now.”

“Alright.” That’s all I want.

“By the way, the party’s on Saturday and the smoker’s coming tomorrow. I already got Plato to recommend a DJ. You guys are behind. Probably cause Ez is too busy thinking about all the surfaces he’s gonna bend that hot fairy ass over once I’m out of the house.”

I groan. “Please never say that again.”

“How come I didn’t know?” Orion grumbles, reaching behind me with a shadowy tendril to steal the last soda.

“You were busy with the royal summons ,” Fitzie points out. “I hope the dragon king isn’t as high and mighty as your guy, or this gig will be no fun.”

“Well, he’s picked his successor, so cross your fingers it’s whichever of Bear’s brothers is the least overbearing,” Orion says.

“You’re gonna be an event manager for the dragon king ? That’s your secret job?” I can’t help laughing. “Couldn’t do this by halves, huh?”

“Speak for yourself, mister banging-the-fairy-prince. Anyway if I want my own bougie catering service I’ll need connections to the upper crust of monster society.” He shrugs. “It’s serendipity.”

“God, I missed this,” I whisper in Lysander’s ear.

Fitzie unfortunately spoke the truth — Lysander is bent over the counter. I stroke the perfect arch of his back and dig my cock into the green globe of his ass, plush and warm. I’m clothed, but his pants are halfway down his thighs. I couldn’t hold back.

He tips his head back, loose hair brushing my cheek.

“Ezra,” he groans, gripping the edge of the counter. “I’m so…"

He makes a frustrated noise.

“Are you pent up, baby?” I slide my hand up his chest and stroke his nipples through the sheer linen shirt he’s wearing.

The Midsummer King’s crown is on the counter where I dropped it after staggering home from Fitzie’s party last night.

Damn thing is getting a lot of use. We still haven’t had a moment to ourselves, but this morning I woke up to Lysander missing from the bed and I pinned him in the middle of making hot chocolate.

He lets out a harsh breath as I pluck his nipples gently, teasing.

“I’m so wet, ” he gasps. “ All the time. It’s not fair. My cock doesn’t even come out, it just gets thick and stuck inside.”

A jolt of heat goes through me. Yeah, he’s pent up alright. “That’s normal for us fertile folks. Do you have any idea how tender my balls are?”

“I don’t like it,” he whines.

I can’t help chuckling. “Do you like this?”

I smooth his gently rippled stomach, down his hip and between his thighs. Avoiding the obvious protrusion of his still-hidden cock, I squeeze and rub his soft inner thighs.

He squirms. “Ezra…”

“Yeah?” I don’t know how long I can keep this up. My cock is a burning rod in my sleep shorts and there’s absolutely no way he’s missed the way it’s prodding his ass. Even just his proximity makes my skin tingle with arousal. But I love the sighs and pouts he gives me when I draw it out.

“Please,” he moans, taking my hand. Instead of guiding it to his no doubt dripping slit, he brings it to his mouth. He sucks my fingers in and works his tongue around them. I almost choke, my cock jumping.

“Open me up,” he begs.

Fuck. Who am I to deny that?

I dip my wet fingers between his cheeks and stroke his hole.

I have rope in the bedroom that I bought from Bear’s shop, a deep blue that’ll look stunning on him, and I’m dying to have him that way — face down, thighs spread, legs tied to either side of the bed.

But I’m too impatient right now. I need him now.

I nudge his thighs apart and rub firmly. His hole is warm and tight under the pad of my fingers, and he sinks forward on his elbows, leaving himself exposed. My blood burns.

The first finger goes in easily. Inside, he’s tender and blazing hot. He gasps and arches his back deeper. I pump my finger back and forth a few times, but he’s so relaxed I can slide the next one in beside it before long.

“Ah!” He tightens momentarily.

“Easy,” I murmur, kissing his shoulder blade.

“I want more ,” he manages, his frustration obvious.

“It’s been a few weeks. We gotta take it slow or you’ll hurt yourself.”

“I just want you inside me,” he chokes.

“I know. I need it too.”

I pull my fingers out, all urge to tease gone. He makes a pained noise, but I turn him around, needing to see his face. His cock is still hiding, just a firm mound between his legs. He whimpers when I press my palm against it.

“Hurts.”

He tilts his head up, soft lips the color of the morning sky calling to me, and I kiss him and taste the hot chocolate he was making and the faint salt of his natural flavor, breathing in his scent and warmth hungrily. He runs his hands up and down my sides restlessly.

“Bedroom,” I gasp, pulling back. “I want lube.”

He practically trips over his pants getting there, and I’m not far behind.

I strip off my shorts as he flings his pajamas off the side of the bed and digs in my drawer for the lube.

I’m about to take it from him when he flicks the cap off and squirts it onto his own fingers, and I’m treated to the sight of him lifting one leg to give himself access to his hole.

I gape as two slender green fingers disappear inside.

His slit parts, glistening with wetness just like I expected, and the mess drips down over his hole.

He throws his head back on the pillow. Finally, his cock peeks out of its hiding place and begins to thicken and lengthen, pointing straight up and quivering with need.

I’m starving.

I grab his thigh in one hand and push him back, leaning down to dig my tongue straight into the wettest part of him.

He lets out a wail. I swallow his liquid eagerly, my cock throbbing and my pulse hammering as he writhes under me, fingers still buried in his ass.

I lick his slit clean, then move on to his cock.

The shy member lashes my tongue once, twice, and erupts.

He convulses with a cry, his knee almost taking me out.

His ass squeezes around his fingers. I close my mouth around his slender tip and swallow his squirming shaft.

With my nose buried in his smooth, warm skin, I let my eyes drift shut, swallowing back his essence. Finally his thighs relax, going soft again, and his cock starts to twitch with overstimulation instead of ongoing orgasm. His hands sink into my hair as I lift my head.

He gives me a dazed smile. “Oops.”

“Not oops . Delicious.” I smirk.

He tugs me up his body, pulling me into a deep, soul-searching kiss.

“I’m ready now,” he whispers.

My cock pulses. I lock eyes with him, slotting myself between his legs, and he hooks his ankle around my back.

My cock kisses something hot and damp. I thrust a couple times, expecting to glance off, but instead it catches, and suddenly I’m pushing in, and he’s accepting me, hot, tight, squeezing my flesh, and a choked cry escapes him.

I dig my toes into the mattress and push deeper. “Fuck, oh god. So good.”

He’s silk and honey and perfection. He opens eagerly, wings shuddering on either side beneath him, his hole trembling around me. He’s soft and welcoming. I thrust forward until I’m in him to the root, my balls resting against his ass, and I feel his sated cock wriggle against me.

He arches, moving against me with a complete lack of finesse, mindlessly chasing what he wants. “Give me your pleasure — your seed.”

I give it to him.

His cock comes to attention when I start fucking him in earnest. The noises he makes are definitely loud enough for the neighbors to hear, and I don’t care.

I want everyone to hear. I want them to know how good I make him feel.

If he just wanted to get off, he could touch himself in the shower.

But he didn’t. Just like I don’t. I saved my come for him, all my passion, and I pour it into him with every thrust. He cups my face and gasps against my lips as I plunge deeper, seeking the kind of completion that goes beyond climax.

When I come, it rises through my whole body like an electric storm. I shudder and cry out against him, my hips jerking uncontrollably. I feel him tighten all around me, his hole gripping as he comes again, his fingers on my arms and his legs around my back.

“Yes, yes, yes,” he chants into my mouth. “My Ezra. Mine.”

“Love you, baby,” I moan, pumping my seed into him. “Love you so much.”

My body rocks with shudders and my thrusts slow. I can feel how wet he is inside from me, which is hotter than I ever dreamed. His cock releases a few more weak spurts and he lets out a deep, satisfied noise.

I try to pull out, even though his heat is divine around me, but he tightens his legs.

“Stay inside,” he murmurs, eyes drifting shut. “Just for a bit.”