Page 43 of Transfiguration
Con pushed, slow and uncertain, worried at the stretch of Luca’s body around his hand, but the widest part popped inside and then Luca’s body swallowed him up to his wrist. It was insane. Heat and soft, spongy material, gripping and pulsing around him as Luca’s body adjusted. Con swallowed hard, feeling his balls tingle in warning again. He’d never come three times in one go. Two being miraculous enough, in his opinion. But he kept the camera up, focused on Luca’s gripping hole and Con’s nestled hand. He moved carefully, slowly wriggling his fingers, the tightness making the movement stuttered.
“Ready to pull the string?” Con asked as he flexed his fingers. Could he form a fist inside? Would Luca stretch that far? He made no sign he was in any sort of pain or discomfort, but Luca had experience with a lot of things Con had only read about or seen in porn. “Going to make a fist while you spurt.”
“Fuck,” Luca trembled. “Yes.”
“Ready? On three?”
Luca breathed hard, fingers scrambling for the end of the thread. Con focused on it for a second before pulling back to get the entire picture.
“One… two… three…” Con counted slowly and made a careful fist inside Luca. The tie fell away and Luca let out a strangled cry, his cock pouring come out all over the floor, his chest, and his thighs. Luca’s body tightened to near pain around Con’s hand, and he didn’t force his hand back open, merely relaxed his grip, letting Luca’s body adjust to the sensation even as he kept coming.
Sam was right about feeling Luca’s heartbeat this way. Con felt everything. Every spurt of Luca’s cock, his racing heart, his staccato breathing, his hips trembling, and his muscles spasming.
Luca panted. He’d get a five second pause, and Con would move his hand a small bit, sending him spurting more, until Luca’s cock jerked and nothing came out.
“Out of jizz. Poor boy. Told you to eat more veggies,” Con teased. He focused the video on Luca’s dancing cock. “Looks divine though, right? Bet you wish you were here.” He turned the camera back to Luca’s stretched hole and dragged out his hand. It was just as hot as that fucking giant plug coming out. The gaping glimpse into darkness that slowly narrowed. “Do you see what you missed? Did you plan this? Is that why he had a plug bigger than my fist? Fuck, you’re a psycho, Sam. And we both loved it.” Con focused back on his spent cock and slid it in his slicked fist, which had just been inside Luca. The sound was wet and dirty. “Three times, maybe four? Bet I can get Luca to bring me again. When are you coming home?”
He stopped recording and took a second to send all the videos to Sam. It would take a while for everything to load. They would have to do something about the wards slowing down their download speeds. The original drawing finally went through with a ping.
Con sighed as Luca laid his head on Con’s bare thigh.
“Angle this way,” Luca mumbled, exhausted and spent, but never finished. “Let me suck on you for a while.”
“You are insatiable,” Con said, shifting his weight to his side and angling his cock to slide it between Luca’s lips. He probably wouldn’t come again, even with the divine warmth of Luca licking him like a lollipop, but he could lie there and enjoy it for a while. Maybe they’d get lucky and Sam would come storming in and fuck them both. Con smiled at the thought and rubbed some of the cooling come into Luca’s flesh. The stress of the past few days finally fading away as his heartbeat calmed.
EIGHTEEN
Luca had begged Sam not to say anything to Con, and he understood. Con had been away a few weeks, home only hours and they had a kid dropped in their lap, and now Luca’s inevitable change. It was a lot of disruption in their very structured lives.
Since Luca was feeling good, and as he stated “mostly normal,” he wanted to have an evening with them, and pretend his life wasn’t about to plunge into chaos.
Sam couldn’t get out of his meetings, but he hoped he’d be able to hurry home and join the celebration he’d planned for Con’s homecoming. Everything else was on hold, including Seiran’s promise to let Sam dictate the time he’d talk to Con as long as no more pressing issues came up.
The biggest problem with plans was that it took little to interrupt them. Sam had to appear on TV, to spew the lines set forth for him, being the poster boy for the vampire movement, but he’d looked at the reports from Blake’s death.
He had never had a security detail before, but protestors with anti-magic and anti-vampire signs filled the streets. Sam let their rage drift over him and tugged at the energy it generated to refill his magic stores. If someone tried something, he’d be ready to move. Vampires were highly flammable, and since Gabe said someone had torched one of the university buildings, Sam kept his anti-fire shields up, and gaze searching the crowd for bombs.
“It was a ritual killing,” Hart had stated before Sam had stepped out before the media. “Don’t mention that at all.”
“How do you know?” Sam paged through the information on his phone.
“His internal organs erupted, and his heart might be missing. The coroner will be piecing him together for a while. That’s something only a ritual spell can do. No short or fast cast can pack that sort of punch. Rou could do it, but do you know any other witches with that level of power?”
Sam frowned at the pictures. Blake’s torso was a mess, but no symbols or artifacts appeared in anything the police had photographed. He wondered if Con could do something like that. He had a crazy knowledge of runes and the ability to store his wind power as energy. But he knew Con hadn’t been involved, and ritual magic had never been his style. “What sort of ritual doesn’t use symbols or items?”
Hart sighed as he walked with Sam down toward the media gathering. Sam would do the talking, and Hart would remain at his back as was often the case for the press. If Hart didn’t show, the press would speculate he didn’t care, or was unwell. Neither were good outcomes even if Hart planned to say nothing. “Your lover would know more, but I suspect it would be much like having a voodoo doll. We don’t know that it didn’t use symbols or items. The symbols and items might be in another location, projected at him.”
“That means Blake was the target, specifically?” Sam asked. He had worried that Luca or Con or even himself might have been the target with Blake caught as an innocent bystander.
“We won’t know until we find the site the spell was cast. Was the spell projected at everyone in the vehicle, but only Blake was present? Or it could have been specific to him. Though I know of none who would have targeted him. He was a light witch,” Hart said. “Not even part of any Dominion lineage that I can find.”
“Light? What sort of powers are those?”
“The most common is actual light manipulation, but also the reverse. Blake’s skills were in creating shadows and making things blend. It helped keep anyone he was driving, unseen. He was also very good at balancing negative energy. A small thing to keep your revenant from rising.”
Which was why he was assigned to them, Sam thought. Hart doing his best to protect Luca from anyone who might target him.
“The seer ability would be a light power. Illumination of another type. Much as the dark powers have variations, so do light. You’ll find most of the males working for the Fellowship have light abilities. They are as common as wind magic is to the Dominion,” Hart said, stopping before the door that would take them out to the press meeting. “The Dominion has always considered them parlor tricks. Illusions or delusion, though neither is true. Your amplifier and siphon abilities are light power. And like most other male witches with light abilities, the magic in your line is untraceable.”