Page 51 of Resurrection
“Fuck,” Seiran snarled. “Don’t need the teasing.” He wanted Gabe in him. Now.
Gabe pressed a finger in, not gentle or slow, but a firm digit inside, spreading the slick and finding Seiran’s prostate. Seiran’s body clenched around Gabe’s finger, trying to keep him inside, needing so much, and knowing it had been a long time. Gabe’s fingers wouldn’t fill him. Not like Seiran wanted them too. He needed that hot branding dick in him bad. Even if it hurt a little at first. That was okay. He liked that first edge of burning discomfort. The pleasure much more intense then. It had been so long, he even wondered if that was right. Toys could only replicate so much.
“Toys?” Gabe muttered, seeming to catch the thought. “We’ll have to play sometime.” He removed his finger and pulled Seiran back so Gabe could have a firm grip on his hips. Gabe’s cock slid over Seiran’s hole a few times, teasing as Gabe moved his hips and forced Seiran to stay still with a brutal grip.
“Stop teasing me,” Seiran growled. He reached back to grab Gabe’s hair and tug.
“I thought you liked teasing?” Gabe said as his cock pressed into Seiran.
“Fuck.” Seiran froze, trying to relax as the girth of the intrusion bore down on him. Maybe he should have been prepped a bit more. That did hurt, but not in a bad way. The stretch intense, burning, and so fucking good. He tried to keep from clenching around Gabe’s dick, but couldn’t help it. He’d clench and then unclench, body sucking Gabe deeper, until finally, he felt spread wide, filled completely. Gabe’s balls pressed to Seiran’s taint.
Gabe held them there. Seiran’s body gripping him in surges as the pleasure rolled through him, begging for more. Gabe kissed the side of his face, and neck, seeming to be waiting for something, even as Seiran kept his grip tight in Gabe’s hair, and pressed his ass back into Gabe as though needing more.
Something released in Seiran’s body, and Gabe slid in a tiny bit more. The clenching and gripping inside less tight and more a dance of erotic need. “There we go,” Gabe said as he slid his hips back, sliding out while Seiran’s body tried to keep him inside. “So responsive.”
“Don’t…” Seiran begged him not to stop.
Gabe pushed back in a few times, a slow test of the friction. Too slow for Seiran’s wants. He wriggled his hips trying to get more, but Gabe held him firm. Then Gabe adjusted his hold, shoving a pillow beneath Seiran, and rising to a kneel for a better angle. Seiran had to release his grip on Gabe’s hair. Gabe’s teeth playfully clipped Seiran’s shoulder again as he said, “Ready?”
Seiran was more than ready, for anything, he didn’t even know what he was agreeing to. Whatever. He made a noise that he hoped was affirmative, and Gabe slammed into him. It wasn’t soft or kind, or sweet, or romantic. What Gabe gave him then was the pounding he’d craved. Brutal, fast, far faster than he could have moved if he’d been human, and deep, the angle changing with a tiny roll of his hips as he shoved inside.
Seiran lost all other thought, memory, and emotion. His body singing in triumph even as it fought to accommodate the intensity of the pounding. He sucked in large gulps of air, wave after wave of pleasure building. Gabe holding him firmly in place, splitting him in two with every thrust, and building the friction of intensity throughout his body.
Gabe wrapped his arm around Seiran’s waist, bringing them closer, even while still spearing him hard, and pressing him into the bed. Gabe returned a hand to Seiran’s throat. Kissing the side of Seiran’s face. “You like this,” Gabe whispered. He squeezed his hand the smallest bit, limiting how much air Seiran could draw.
Stars exploded inside Seiran’s head. His body following suit as he came hard, a rush of heat like lava pouring down his spine to awaken every nerve in his body. His body clenched and spasmed around Gabe, feeling the heat of Gabe’s spend fill him. Seiran’s vision narrowed into dark tunnels and pops of light, lack of air and too much sensation assaulting him all at once. He almost passed out, but his racing heart, and Gabe letting go of his throat, brought him back from the edge.
He felt covered in sweat and come, filled to the brink with the hot spend of everything he’d missed for far too long. Held in Gabe’s arms, it didn’t matter that Gabe’s weight held him down, or the arm wrapped around him bit into his stomach. He turned his head to the side to lay it on the pillow and gulp air. His body pulsing, oversensitive, but still wanting more, even while Gabe was still inside.
“You didn’t bite me,” Seiran whispered, feeling a bit sad. He’d wanted that just as much as the sex. A bit of affirmation that they went together, the blood and the pleasure.
“Later,” Gabe said, rolling them to the side, keeping himself pressed into Seiran for another minute as though savoring it. “They don’t need to go together.”
But Seiran liked them together, he realized. Sex and the bite. Had that been him instead of Gabe? He sighed as the flood of his overactive mind stuttered back to life.
He felt Gabe smile into his shoulder. “It’s like that, is it?” He pulled out, leaving Seiran feeling gaping and empty, air cooling his skin. He didn’t like it. He liked it even less when Gabe got up and went to the bathroom. For a few seconds the terrible feeling of being alone again filled him. Abandoned. Used up and left. Worthless.
But Gabe stepped out of the bathroom with a washcloth in hand, and returned to wipe down Seiran’s ass, and cock. He tossed the soiled pillow off the bed, before curling around Seiran, and pulling the blanket over both of them.
“You overthink a lot,” Gabe said as he spooned himself around Seiran.
He did. Always had.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Gabe said. He reached out and hit a button on the remote that plunged the room into darkness. Only a thin ribbon of light came from the bathroom. “I may not remember everything, but I love you, Seiran Rou. A decade and a half, or even a century isn’t going to change that.”
Seiran couldn’t help but collapse in Gabe’s arms and cry. Not bad tears, but cleansing ones. He fell asleep praying that when he woke, it wouldn’t all be a dream instead of reality.
Chapter 18
Arriving home, Gabe was drunk on blood and knowledge. All while his brain still throbbed with holes great enough to look like Swiss cheese. He felt a bit overconfident, and alive in his skin. He’d also been burning with need for a particular witch. The second he’d stepped in the door and smelled the decadence of chocolate cake and Seiran, his libido throbbed, demanding pursuit.
It was a bit of an unusual feeling. The aching physical need to reclaim what belonged to him, and the emotional connection that sank into place demanding to be strengthened. Even while his brain circled through broken images that barely gave him a glimpse at the full picture of his past.
Seiran’s comment about getting it over with, like letting Gabe touch him was something to endure, pricked his ego. The memories of Seiran were scattered, broken, flickers of bits and pieces, even while Gabe’s heart ached like a knife had torn through him. Seiran was his. Gabe had sat in a booth at the bar contemplating the emotion for a while, half dozing from being overfull with blood, and swirling memories. At first, he thought it had been possession, a need to reclaim something his revenant considered theirs, but it was more than that. The well of emotion running deep even with only vague remains of his memory in place.
The tears. Fuck, he hated those tears. But they were his fault this time. With most of his hunger satiated, his body demanded touch and a reconnection with the man he loved. There was no other explanation for the intensity of the emotions. It hurt to breathe for a while. The thought of losing what he’d found, that he’d been the reason everything was messed up, nearly breaking him. He sat hunched over the table, struggling to power through the tide of rolling memories, emotions, and self-destruction he’d wrought.
Still so scattered. It drove him fucking mad. The holes like gaping wounds of his past, unable and unwilling to heal because that would be acknowledging his failure.