Chapter 3
Hawk
F or the past five years, cheap prison versions of Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners have been the best fare I could hope for, but with a bit of money in my pocket, I can now get whatever I want. Succulent chicken. Smoky beef patties. Fries that are actually crispy, and even ice-fucking-cream.
For the first time in years, I feel sated after a meal, and as I rest on the curb behind the restaurant, waiting for my one hundred pound dessert, smiles don’t leave my face.
So maybe it’s reckless to stay around here so soon after I went off the radar, along with several other people who are now dead, but if I were a cop, I’d be searching for a fugitive someplace more sensible than a fast food joint in the town nearest to the accident site.
Or I’m just excusing the insatiable need to put my dick in that pink mouth.
To say I’m mesmerized would be an understatement. Maybe I’ve just gotten used to guys being rough around the edges back in prison, but Sylvan (going by his name tag) is so pretty I can’t think straight. Talking to him is like encountering a fairy tale illustration in real life. His wrists are delicate like meringue, and his skin reminds me of the palest peach.
I stand by the locked door to the restaurant so I can get a glimpse of him sooner, and at one point he gave me a sweet smile from behind the counter. I’m twice his size and killed a man hours ago, but he makes me melt like the ice cream I’ve just eaten. He even gave me extra sprinkles. Cuteness is my kryptonite, and he’s got it in spades.
My heart skips a beat when he emerges from the back of the kitchen without his uniform. He’s dressed in a button-up black shirt and dark jeans, and the color only emphasizes how pale he is. I didn’t see much of his hair when he wore a cap, but it’s now visible, and he’s combed it nicely. He wants to make a good impression, which is adorable, because by the end of this night, his white hair will be matted from rubbing against the sheets.
When our gazes meet through the glass pane in the door separating us from one another, his expression is somber, as if he were about to make a life-changing decision. Which I suppose he is, considering he’s about to sample my cock. I’m not the poetic type, but his eyes are something else. Like sapphires covered in frost, and the fact that his lashes are also very pale only makes that first impression sink deeper into my brain.
As soon as he steps out though, one thing becomes undeniable.
He is tiny .
The top of his head doesn’t even reach my shoulder. He could bury that pretty face in my chest hair without even leaning down. I could pick him up, bridal-style, and carry him off so he doesn’t need to tire his small feet, without breaking a sweat.
My dick twitches at the thought of all the things I can do to him, and I’ll definitely need more than two condoms for that .
He offers me a curt smile, as if he wasn’t a tiny thing about to have a fuck fest with a guy most people would cross the street to avoid at this time of night, and turns around to lock the restaurant.
“Oh shit,” I mumble as my gaze drops to his ass, showcased by a pair of jeans. I can barely resist the temptation to drop to my knees, drag the denim off him, and eat his ass right here, in the faint glow of the lamp installed above Best Burgers Bonanza’s back door. He would shiver, bite his lips, cheek flat against glass, and push back, begging for more. And those two steps would work perfectly to make up for some of our height difference, allowing me to rail him from the back as he holds on to the door handle.
I have not fucked an ass this fine—scrap that, I haven’t had any ass since my arrest—and I sure fucking hope he has more condoms where we’re going, or I might just be irresponsible.
I place my hands on his hips and lean in, nuzzling the back of his head. What’s that smell on him? It’s fresh like droplets of rain on leaves, and I find myself kissing the side of his neck before tasting the skin, which smells as though he’s just taken a shower.
How? Do they provide such facilities for their workers? Something must have changed for the better while I was in jail.
The way he gasps and freezes in my grip makes my cock stiffen. “A-apologies it took so long, I had to clean the ice cream machine, and it is an ordeal.”
“I would wait for you until morning, pretty boy,” I say and pull his hips against mine, so he can sense my arousal. His hair is soft like duckling down, and barely reaches his ears, giving me a good view on how pink his nape is getting—
I glance back to his ears, only now registering their pointy, elongated shape. What?
He turns around in my grip, blushing profusely. “This is not an appropriate place,” he whispers breathlessly. “I don’t even know your name yet.”
“I can tell you my name, but only if you never tell anyone,” I whisper and guide his hand to the front of my pants. His touch is uncertain, but it still sends a shockwave down my legs and sets off explosions of pleasure in my skull. I can’t wait to see those slim fingers around my cock. They’ll make my dick appear even more impressive.
“Oh. I—that is… sizeable,” he utters, not looking up anymore. “And I agree to keep your name to myself.”
Something about the way he speaks turns me on too. So proper. I want to ruin that prim exterior. I want to make his pink mouth spill filthy words to me.
“It’s Hawk, like the bird. And what should I call you ?” I ask, sandwiching him between me and the wall with his hand still resting on my dick. I can’t help myself. I lick the top of his head, right through the parting, hair and all.
“Sylvan. My name is S-sylvan,” he says, but his voice breaks a little at the end.
I’m a bit of a dog. When I sense prey, all I wanna do is chase.
At this point, I’m hard enough for my brain to be scrambling. Do we really need a ‘place’? Could he not go down on me here? There’s no one around.
Sadly, he pulls away his hand and presses my stomach. I flex it so he can sense my muscles.
Fine. I’ve waited for over an hour and can wait a bit more. “Where’s your ride, baby?”
He clears his throat and slips out of my grasp, but makes sure I follow. He points to a… bus stop down the road lit by a yellow lamp. “Just down here. It shall arrive soon. I was hoping we could set some ground rules, because there might have been a misunderstanding.”
I follow him like a dog, salivating already. I swear to God, he is the hottest person I have ever touched. “Sure. You want to have a safeword, or something? Soft and hard limits? I’m good with that.”
He glances back at me and despite the flush, his blue eyes are bright and attentive. “I’m not sure I understand, but you have something that is of no use to you, yet could change everything for me.” He looks behind me, but there’s nothing there but asphalt.
“I do?”
“Your shadow. It might be ordinary to your eyes, but I see it for what it is.” Sylvan sighs and extends his hand until his fingers are covered by my shadow. What I’m focused on is that he places his other hand on my arm.
I want more touch. I want skin to skin. I want it now .
Even though all this shadow stuff sounds a bit cuckoo.
He meets my eyes. “Have you ever had a near-death experience? It’s not unusual for a shadow to swell in force when a human is dying or filled with despair.”
I stare back at him as my mouth dries, but I offer him a smile and shrug. “Who hasn’t, am I right? I’m like a cat, and still have three of my nine lives left.”
He nods, sizing me up with that inquisitive gaze. “That does explain a lot. Was one of those times almost drowning in a river?”
I shift my weight as a phantom eel twists in my guts. This question is setting off alarm bells as I suck in air, remembering a dream about tar-black water flooding my mouth, and the huge face of the moon staring at me from the sky as a shadowed creature loomed above the surface and reached for me.
I don’t want to entertain this anymore.
“Are you like… into all this New Age stuff?” I ask, placing my hands on his hips as I look down at him, drinking in his marble- like complexion, the huge eyes like moonlit lakes, and narrow, pouty lips.
He cocks his head with the tiniest frown. “Have you noticed my ears, Hawk? I am—”
The bus swoops in next to us a bit too abruptly, but the quicker we board, the sooner I’m in his bed. Sylvan huffs in frustration, but goes in first, giving me the best view—his ass in jeans.
My instinct is to push my face against it and lick the denim, but I can’t be a menace on public transport if I want to reach his place at a sensible time. I lower the visor of my baseball cap and pull up the hood to ensure that any strands of hair that might have come loose from under the hat remain hidden.
I’m pleasantly surprised to hear that he’s paying for my ticket and swiftly follow him to the back of the bus, past the lone other passenger sitting at the front.
“You were saying something about your ears,” I remind him as we sit down just before the vehicle moves. The light’s off, but I can see the outline of their unusual shape. He must have had some kind of cosmetic surgery to get them like this, and probably wants to show off. I’m more than happy to indulge him.
He looks straight into my eyes. “I’m an elf. I’ve not told any humans about this. I shouldn’t really, but it is important for you to understand. I’m not just some elf either, I am a prince of the Nocturne Court.”
Oooh, role play! I can go with that!
“Really?” I ask, feigning surprise, already in my role. “I thought elves only existed in fantasy books!”
I must have done something right because he grabs my hand, and I feel as giddy as a schoolboy. We’re even in the back of a bus, like where I got my first blowjob, on the way home from a school trip. So many fond memories.
“No, we are most definitely real, but for reasons into which there is no need to delve in, we live apart from your world. What you need to know is that your shadow is very special, and it would be my greatest pleasure and honor to claim it.” Sylvan strokes my palm with his thumb, sending a spark of arousal straight to my dick.
“I’m sure we can work something out,” I say and place my hand on his thigh before moving it up, closer to his groin.
I can’t get enough of how fast he blushes, how his eyes widen a little. I can almost sense his skittish heartbeat.
“Is that what you would like in exchange? My body?” he whispers the last words, and his grip on my hand becomes stronger.
Hook. Line. Sinker.
I slide my fingers between his thighs, and my toes curl at the warmth I sense. “There’s nothing I want more, Your Highness,” I whisper and pull his hand up to my lips, because I am committing to this role fully.
Those pointy ears of his twitch, and that has to be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. When I press my knuckles against his cock, I sense it stiffening.
He lets go of me and unbuttons the top of his shirt, revealing a slim silver collar covered in dark engravings, no doubt part of his elf-persona-thing. “Do you see this abomination?”
I nod, already tempted to grab it, because I’m certain he’s wearing it for a reason.
“Until I get it off my neck, I cannot bind your shadow to me. But I know of a grimsmith who can take it off. I fear I am not as capable in your world as I would wish to be, so I only toyed with the idea of paying him a visit. Do you know of a town called Boston? That’s where he resides.”
That’s… elaborate for a sexual fantasy, but whatever gets this beauty off. “Oh, the legendary Boston Blacksmith. Yeah, I heard of him, my prince. We can go see him.”
When we pass a green neon sign mounted on the roof of a bar, Sylvan’s eyes glisten like two crystals. He grants me a nervous smile and ever-so-slightly presses his crotch against my knuckles.
Fuuuuuck. I’m so horny for him I could hump him on the crusty leather seat of the bus.
“It is settled then. Once I claim your shadow, you may use my body.”
I chuckle and slide my arm around his shoulders, leaning closer as I trace an eight over his bulge. “Oh, I definitely want to sample you tonight.”
His composure crumbles, and he blinks several times. I’m not sure what his role-playing game is about exactly, but he’s definitely hard.
“What do you mean… ‘sample’? While I may not be of substantial size, I assure you I will give you pleasure. Are you questioning my capabilities?”
I chuckle, losing myself in the game. It might be a bit too complicated for a dumb brute like me. “It just means I don’t want to wait until we’re in Boston,” I say and slide my thumb along the back of his ear. It twitches against my finger in the cutest way.
He strokes the front of my hoodie. “Well, we don’t always get what we want at a moment’s notice, do we? Sometimes, patience is required. Until then, I welcome you to stay with me. My accommodation is less than ideal as I live with my landlady, but it should be fine if we are discreet. I do not wish to be parted from you.”
I’m so confused by the push and pull he’s doing. Maybe he wants to play the role of a ravished prince, so he’s being coy? I can work that out when I’m in his bed.
“And how far is your palace?” I ask, staring at his mouth, but the moment it opens, I lose all interest in the answer and lick the seam of his lips.
Also, I need to go to Canada, not Boston, but what’s a little detour?
Sylvan gasps, and I take the opportunity to deepen the kiss. Oh, and what absolute fucking bliss this boy is. Pliant like marshmallows, a little shy when my tongue meets his, but he doesn’t push me away. His trembling fingers settle on my sides as I devour him.
All the pleasure centers in my brain light up like a Christmas tree because he is exactly what I love, yet what I’ve been denied for years. I want my dick inside him so bad I might just come in my pants from this kiss. He smells like mist in the morning, his mouth is so warm and inviting, and when I push his knees farther apart, he opens up without question.
I am going to ravish this elven prince tonight, and then, maybe wait out the manhunt for me in his basement. Or something. He’s not going to report me if I treat him right.
I push him back a little, just to try my luck. I shouldn’t be drawing attention to myself, I really shouldn’t, but he is temptation personified.
Just as I consider a blast from the past and going down on him back here, the bus comes to an abrupt stop.
My beauty slides out of my embrace all too quickly and adjusts his hair. He doesn’t shy away from holding my hand as we make our way to the exit, and it gets me all mushy inside.
He glances at me from under the long pale eyelashes. “You are a very fine kisser,” he whispers with a little smile, and I can’t wait to show him what else I’m very good at.