Page 8 of Siren in Love (In Love #1)

Mike

“ I like giving head .”

Zingy edges of desire made Corvin’s voice bloom bright in Mike’s awareness.

Oh, gods. “D-do you want me to put on a condom?”

“Do you need one? Anything I should know about?”

“I wouldn’t—no. Healthy as a seahorse.”

Corvin shook his head, chuckling. “A seahorse? Fine. Let’s save the condom for later.”

He opened his mouth and licked around the sensitive skin of Mike’s cockhead, lapping at the precum. He kept up the eye contact the whole time, even as his lips came down to cover the head of Mike’s cock, even as he began to work Mike deeper into his mouth.

Mike reached out to bury a hand in Corvin’s hair before he remembered the stitches.

He pulled back at the last moment. His hum only intensified as he felt the head of his cock hit the back of Corvin’s throat.

Corvin used his fingers to stroke what he couldn’t swallow and beyond.

He squeezed Mike’s balls, kneading them gently.

Throughout it all, he never looked away, his attention as intense as the way his tongue glided along the underside of Mike’s cock.

Fuck. So much for a quiet librarian. Scratch that, I knew he wasn’t a quiet anything. I want him to hear me sing!

Mike also wanted to thrust. He didn’t though.

This was too new, and he had no right to presume Corvin would be okay with Mike being rough like that.

Instead, Mike focused on staying on his feet even as Corvin sucked and teased and licked, the ghost of teeth only adding to the thrill.

The noises Corvin made, combined with his green eyes staring up, rang like soft cymbals in Mike’s mind.

While Corvin was sucking Mike off, he used one hand to get his own pants open, pulling his cock free. With wide eyes, Mike watched as Corvin started jacking himself off. I want to do that. Want to touch him, to get him to feel good.

Given the angle, Mike couldn’t see all of it, but he could hear the movements themselves, the joy in the small sounds Corvin made in addition to the sucking and licking. It was incredibly hot, and as far as Mike was concerned, only Corvin coming could’ve made it any hotter.

Thinking about that, imagining those sounds Corvin would make, had Mike’s own release building. He brushed his fingers over Corvin’s temples, dazed and amazed to have found him.

“You’re too good at this. I’m about to come. Let’s get into bed.”

Mike ached to let his siren song seep into his voice, let his own feelings echo with his words until Corvin could feel them from his eardrums all the way to his toes. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t ruin this moment.

Corvin pulled off slowly, leaving Mike aching for the exquisite sensation. “You do taste good.”

He stroked along the veins of Mike’s cock, then sucked the head one last time before he got back to his feet.

Gods, I can’t resist him.

Corvin’s lips were red and full now, his pupils wide, focus in his eyes.

He was willing and ready, one hand still around his own cock, still moving.

Mike leaned in for a quick but hungry kiss before getting out of his own pants.

Corvin’s were around his ankles, and he awkwardly kicked them off.

Lucky for Mike, he was faster getting on the bed, doing it in such a way that it offered an excellent view of his back and butt.

This I want to explore, Mike thought, aware he was staring and not able to stop himself.

“Lube and condoms are in the drawer,” Corvin said, pulling Mike out of his reverie and pointing at the nightstand. “Unless you want to keep looking.”

“No. By which I mean, I could look at you for days.”

“Looking isn’t the point here, Pineapple Mike.”

“Oh, I know.”

Mike breathed deep, then hummed out his desire. He carefully climbed onto the bed and straddled Corvin, who was still on his belly, giving Mike a perfect backward glance.

He squeezed Corvin’s plump cheeks. Rather than lingering, he let his hands drift upward, to the small of Corvin’s back, then his shoulders. The muscles there were tight, and Mike loosened them, feeling his way along the tension as if he were coaxing a melody from a violin’s strings.

“Do you know you hum a lot?” Corvin asked.

“Do you mind that I do?”

“No. And I would mind even less if you finally—”

“In a moment. Let me take care of you first, okay? You’re kind of tense.” Mike’s voice was going low, warming with the vibrato of his siren song. It wanted to come out, desperately, but it would have flooded Corvin with desire that was more than his own. Mike resisted.

“Are you into this? Massages and whatnot? If that’s a kink of yours, we should maybe discuss that.”

“It’s… I don’t have a kink.” Maybe I do, and it’s you. “I just want you to feel good. Don’t worry though. I’ll put my cock in here soon enough.” For emphasis, he kneaded Corvin’s right cheek, making him groan out his desire.

“Yeah, please.”

But Mike went back to the massage. He pressed his fingers and the heels of his palms into the tightness of Corvin’s muscles, releasing it. He could have done this longer and would’ve enjoyed it, but at the same time, he desperately wanted to feel the closeness sex could give.

He eagerly leaned to the side and pulled open the drawer Corvin had indicated. There was a book in there— The Waste Land .

He’s like a book squirrel, hides them everywhere.

The condoms were behind the book, and Mike tore the wrapper off one and put it on. There were few diseases a siren could pass to a human, but what mattered was that Corvin enjoyed this, every part of it, and felt safe.

Corvin craned his neck. “Lube’s in the back. You see it?”

“I do, even if the sight of you is distracting.”

“Heh. Charmer.”

“Truth teller.”

Mike reached for the lube and squeezed some into his hand. He shifted down and began working Corvin open.

Corvin arched his back and moaned at Mike’s touch, burying his fingers in the tangled sheet underneath him.

Mike drew circles around Corvin’s hole with his lubed finger, and Corvin, shameless in the best of ways, rubbed up against the mattress, seeking friction.

Mike licked his lips, then bit down on them when he realized he was about ready to sing his joy out loud.

“Feels good,” Corvin mumbled. He stopped dry humping the mattress, instead pushing up on his elbows so he could turn his head and look back at Mike.

Mike wasn’t sure whether Corvin wanted to say something, but when he pushed a finger into him, Mike very effectively stole all the words from him.

Corvin gasped, whimpered, let his head drop forward.

Those needy little noises made a sweet melody, and the way Corvin spread his legs for Mike only made it better.

Mike gave Corvin a second well-lubed finger.

“Oh, fuck.” Corvin moaned at the sensation of being filled like that, and Mike chuckled, bent forward, and traced a line of kisses down Corvin’s left shoulder.

“Something tells me you like that,” Mike said with a hum.

“Will you…stop talking. I want you to…fuuuuck.” Corvin’s breath stuttered, most of his pleading cut off when Mike found his prostate and curled his fingers against it.

“You want me?” Mike asked.

“Please. Yes, please. I want you.” Corvin’s voice was vibrant, a harmony in Mike’s ears.

Mike pulled his fingers out of Corvin’s hole and made sure he was slick enough not to feel anything but pleasure.

He knelt between Corvin’s spread knees and pulled him up by the hips so he was forced to support the weight of his upper body on his elbows rather than rest his chest against the sheets.

Mike wanted to stroke Corvin, make him come in his hand while he was inside.

Mike ran his palms over Corvin’s thighs, moved up, then spread his cheeks, admiring the view. He squeezed some more lube over Corvin’s hole, which wasn’t necessary, but Mike savored the needy little whimpers it drew from Corvin.

Only then did he line up his sheathed cock and begin pushing into Corvin. That tight warmth was very nearly enough to coax Mike’s siren song out of him and have him singing Corvin straight into ecstasy.

Mike made sure to go slow, throttling the desire his siren self wanted to belt out to the world all around him, to the man he wanted to be his.

It wasn’t easy. Stars danced in front of his eyes with every inch his cock went deeper into Corvin.

His breathing became labored, and his humming reached a volume that easily filled the studio.

The moment Corvin was all around him, Mike gripped his hips and gave one sharp thrust. Corvin whimpered, moaned, his head sagging forward against the pillows. Mike could tell from his voice that dropping his head like that made pain bloom across his scalp.

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” Mike reached for Corvin’s chest and pulled him up and against his body, which was a much better position anyway, because Mike could easily nip Corvin’s earlobe and lick down his shoulder.

“Fine, I’m fine.” Corvin was mostly breathless, apparently glad to be leaning against Mike.

“Want me to keep going?”

“Obviously. I keep telling you, but you just—”

Mike rolled his hips. It made Corvin shut up and shudder in his arms and forced a hum out of Mike. Mike reached around so he could take hold of Corvin’s cock. He spread the precum over the head while he slowly thrust.

You did mention Bach, so why don’t I give you a proper fugue?

He closed his hand tightly around Corvin’s cock and gave him a rough, fast handjob.

At the same time, he kept rolling his hips, thrusting slowly.

He couldn’t see all of Corvin’s face, but from how he sagged against Mike and very nearly melted in his arms, Mike was willing to bet that the combination of slow and tender, rough and fast, did indeed feel like the relentless hunt that was the core of every fugue.