Chapter Twenty-Five
Hollen
“I thought they would burst into flames in sunlight,” said Adair, snuggling closer into Hollen’s side. His arms were loosely looped around his waist, his head on Hollen’s shoulder, despite their height difference.
Hollen held back his smile, tilting his head into the sun and closing his eyes against the potent rays. He’d clawed his way back into that sunlight after hours of blank nothingness, trapped inside a dream that made no sense. One moment he’d been nothing, then the next he’d been standing in front of Munro, their hands clasped together in a handshake.
He let out a soft sigh as the warmth sank straight into him. “They get dehydrated really easily, so they have to be careful, but otherwise the sun doesn’t bother them.” He pressed a kiss to the top of Adair’s head. Munro tracked the movement, but he didn’t approach, deep in conversation with a man Hollen barely recognized.
Maybe he should tell Adair that mermaids existed and werewolves could shift at any time of the month but were forced to during the full moon. George had even filled him in on some strange anatomy quirks that were sure to open Adair’s eyes and make him blush.
“Where do you think we’re going?” asked Hollen, leaning heavily against the side of the brick building. The teahouse was locked tight behind him, the display desolate and the street empty except for the single car with the plates from provinces away.
“They didn’t say.” Adair shook his head, squeezing Hollen tighter. “Something about some old fairy the one guy knows. I still can’t believe they’d use a term like that, but I guess they’re really outdated and old.” He let out a huff. “Still, you sure we can trust this guy? He seems sketchy.”
“I don’t think he meant…” Hollen let out a laugh, tilting Adair’s face up. “He wasn’t being derogatory. There are actual faeries out there. George even said they have wings.”
“No freaking way.” Adair straightened, his eyes wide.
“Are you sure you want to come?” asked Hollen, reaching for Adair and threading their fingers together. Without Adair beside him, there would be something missing, but he wasn’t sure how dangerous the road would be.
“Someone has to look out for you,” said Adair, squeezing his hand. There was a dusting of pink on his cheeks, his lower lip caught between his teeth.
“I’ll be fine,” said Hollen. He glanced at Munro, who had crossed his arms, standing tall with his spine rigid. Erie was refusing to back down, a set to his jaw that was just as familiar.
“And Gorgo, too, I hope,” said Adair softly.
Hollen looked at his friend—really looked at him. Dancing has always been his passion, and even when times were rough, it kept him focused and energetic. Some might call him immature, with the way he depended on Hollen so much, never bringing in a dime to support them. But there was so much love in his heart that it made up for everything.
“You like him,” said Hollen, a grin on his lips.
“He was sweet to me,” said Adair, looking away. That flush deepened until his freckles stood out. “I wasn’t sure at first with the whole ‘demonic possession’ thing, and then there was the teeth incident. Since then, though… I don’t know. He’s not like any guy I’ve liked before.” He shrugged.
Should I ask about the teeth thing? Hollen shook his head. “Well, if he hurts you, I’ll kick his ass.” Hollen laughed, knocking his knuckles lightly against his forehead. “Did you hear that, George?”
George stirred. “ Your friend is a delicate flower and needs to be treated as such .” His presence thickened, Hollen’s vision going suddenly brighter. “ His lips are the softest petals, the touch of his skin like the whisper of pollen ready to inspire life. And I can’t wait to get my hands on that stamen . ”
George’s voice had grown stronger, to the point that Hollen was surprised that no one else could hear him. He was right there, the words almost springing to the tip of his tongue.
Hollen snorted, covering his mouth with his hand.
“What? What did he say?” Adair perked up, his eyes glowing.
“He called your dick a stamen.” Hollen chuckled as Adair gave him a blank look. “A stamen is that pointy part at the middle of a flower where the pollen is.”
“Oh. Oh. ” Adair couldn’t possibly get any pinker. “That’s sweet. I think?” He chewed as his lip, looking to the vampires who still hadn’t come to an agreement. “I’m surprised Gorgo isn’t putting up more of a fuss. From what you told me, he hates Munro. Even if he does need his help, I didn’t expect him to be so civil.”
George stirred before fading, a frown tugging at Hollen’s lips.
“I think George wants the same thing he always has—what’s best for the ones he cares about.” Hollen ran a hand through his hair. Even if Munro doesn’t realize that yet. Munro had checked on him no less than a dozen times, fetching him drinks and little snacks from the kitchen that were only slightly stale.
“He’s also stubborn as hell and refuses to listen to most of what those two are saying.” Hollen strained his hearing, but George grumbled right when he caught Erie whispering about silver chains.
“I’m not getting much out of it, either,” said Adair, moving to put his head on Hollen’s shoulder again. “I think we should just start walking and see if they notice. That car has mountains on the license plate, so if we head west, we’ll hit them eventually.”
“Let’s start walking,” said Hollen. He pushed away from the wall, his legs shaking as his knees threatened to give out. Even with George filling him with an unnatural warmth, he was still unsteady. It was energizing, but in a false sort of way, like caffeine or sugar that led him to a crash a few hours later.
Munro didn’t look up as Hollen grasped Adair’s hand, heading the opposite way of the sunrise. The maps application on his phone would probably be of more help, but Erie was already giving them a look as Adair giggled.
“Flying is more efficient,” said Munro, loud enough to be heard over a passing car. “And if we get into that car, we won’t make it at all. With this amount of bickering, we’ll be down to one in an hour. And you have no sense of direction. I haven’t forgotten about the Greece incident.”
“Somehow I made it here okay,” said Erie, snarling back. “I’ve made it for a few hundred years without you, Covi. I know how modern technology works, even if you’re still using a sundial.”
Hollen covered his mouth with his hand, smothering his laugh as they ventured out of earshot. “I thought my parents were bad, but at least mine kicked me to the curb before I could get too traumatized.”
Adair nodded. “They sound like my grandparents before grandpa left. Are we going to argue about the price of orange juice next? Or who makes the most dust in the house?”
“Hollen.” Munro appeared before them in a wisp of black fog, a few feathers filtering from nowhere. “We’ve come to a decision.” He sent a glare toward Erie. “You will fly with me, and Adair will travel with Erie. With the route I have planned, we should arrive an hour or two before them.”
“Then you’ll have to fly slower.” Erie raised his voice to reach them. “This is my source, not yours. They won’t trust you.”
“I could drive with them,” said Hollen softly. As much as he ached to be with Munro, a flight sounded terrifying. He wasn’t exactly sure how they were going to accomplish that with the nearest airport an hour away, or how he would keep from fainting.
“Hollen.” Munro touched his cheek before bringing their foreheads together. He blocked out the sun, a halo of warmth and light, an outline against his dark clothes. “Please don’t make me lose you from my sight again. I was terrified I would never see you again. My heart can’t take that.”
He brought their lips together—sweet and soft and over before Hollen could fall into it.
“We’ll meet you guys there.” Hollen reached for Adair, hugging him tight before letting him head toward the car. Erie was already inside, revving the engine as it sputtered.
Once Adair was inside, Erie pulled into the street without looking, Adair leaning out the window and waving at him excitedly. He was probably already planning his next three questions for Erie, likely filling the silence in the car for the entire trip.
Hollen waved to his friend, his arm straining until he finally dropped it when they turned out of sight. He held it to his chest, warmth brimming there. A month ago, he’d thought that George and Adair were the only ones there for him. But now there were others—a stranger, even—who were fighting for him.
“Which airport are we headed to? The nice one is about two hours away, but there’s a tiny one much closer. And you never told us where we’re really going.” Hollen leaned against Munro, letting his head rest against his chest. There had to be something about the wind or the sun that was changing his perspective. Even this close to deadly fangs, nothing but the feeling of safety entered his soul.
“We shouldn’t need much of a runway,” said Munro, casting his gaze up and down the street. There was one person walking their way, but after Munro caught their eye, their gaze quickly clouded over, and they turned around. Wherever they’d been headed, it had obviously been wiped from their thoughts.
“Helicopter? I don’t think it can land on the teahouse.” Hollen huffed in a deep breath of peppermint and bergamot. He’d always been a coffee person, but he could see himself religiously switching to tea.
A touch on Hollen’s chin had him opening his eyes. Munro stared back at him, a soft smile on his face. It didn’t take much to close the space between them, lingering on Munro’s lips in a soft kiss. Hollen deepened it this time, barely getting a hint of taste before Munro pulled back.
“Sometimes I forget that you’re new to this world,” said Munro, placing a final peck to Hollen’s lips as a dark cloud suddenly enclosed them. The sudden fog was so thick that it blotted the sunlight from his vision, surrounding them both in a tight blanket of darkness.
Hollen reached for the darkness, blinking unseeingly. Instead of air and the dampness of fog, he met something solid and cool with the tips of his fingers. He jerked at the smoothness of it, the sound of crinkling paper following his movements. A piece broke free, and he brought it closer to his face, squinting as his eyes adjusted.
The outline was distinct against his palm, the small fluffy tufts outweighed by thick bands of rigid keratin. The base was sharp and thick with crimson, a drop of blood seeping from the hollow point. It smeared on his fingertip, quickly drying dark.
“A feather?” He turned it over in his hands as Munro wrapped his arms around him, tugging Hollen in tight. “How?” He reached again just as the solid mass of feathers seemed to move, a sliver of sunlight poking through.
“Hold on.”
The screech that Hollen let out was less than dignified as the ground suddenly dropped out from beneath them and sunlight streamed in as their little dome of darkness suddenly became wings. They beat against the air, louder than any bird, with feathers breaking free as they surged higher.
Still screaming, Hollen wrapped his legs around Munro’s waist, scrambling to hold onto his neck tight as the top of the building went from a large to an impossibly small square. Wind whistled through his ears, tugging at his clothes as the air temperature sharply dipped and his breath caught in his throat.
As he clutched at Munro’s shoulders with all his might, he inevitably slipped, moving his hands to Munro’s back. His mouth dropped open when he found something that he hadn’t expected. The wings were Munro’s, sprouting from his back in thick joints that flexed with each stroke.
“Oh my God.” Hollen’s arms went weak as he slipped downward, and he scrambled to hold onto anything he could reach. Munro brought his arms up to support him just as Hollen clawed at his shirt, a few buttons and some cloth ripping free. Munro’s skin beneath that cloth was colder than before, as if the air itself was sinking straight into him.
“That should be high enough,” said Munro, the wind calming as he paused, and they hung in the air. A moment later he thrust his wings wide, the front edge tilting back toward the earth as they broadened into massive petals aloft on the currents.
Hollen couldn’t stop screaming and clawing at Munro as they suddenly tilted back the way they’d come, the buildings below nothing but pinpricks. They were small enough that he panted, wondering if there was even enough air up here for them or if he would slowly suffocate, only to crash back to the earth.
But as their speed picked up, something strange happened. A lofty warmth seemed to hit them from below, lifting them weightless until they were at a similar height as before. The weightless moment didn’t last as long this time before Munro tipped his wings again, letting them slip closer to the ground.
Hollen couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight, even as his scream died on his lips. They were flying—actually flying—and he’d never been more terrified in his life. With his arms growing weaker by the moment, it was only a matter of time before he slipped and plunged down toward the ground. There was no amount of flapping that would stop his descent.
“ Relax ,” said Munro, breathing right into Hollen’s ear. “I’ve got you.” He flexed his hands that were supporting Hollen’s ass, where he was very much wrapped around Munro like a monkey. When Hollen’s arms at last gave out, Munro caught him, not letting him slip more than an inch before he was cradled tight again.
“Never ever do that again.” Hollen leaned his face into Munro’s neck, trying to blind himself with spices and softness. He was trembling, his teeth chattering, but not just from the cold. “This probably isn’t the best moment to mention that I’m afraid of heights.”
He took one peek below, shuddering at the specs of buildings that had morphed into soft fields colored yellow, brown, and green. Their linear shapes were unmistakable.
“I probably shouldn’t mention that I don’t often fly, then.” Munro chuckled as Hollen hugged him tighter, his fingers dipping beneath Munro’s clothes. He dug his fingers in hard, clutching Munro tighter.
“I can’t—” Hollen glanced down, his stomach swooping. The constant up and down, on what had to be wind drafts, was making his stomach churn as if he were on a rollercoaster. This had to be the worst coaster of his life as they dipped a little lower the next time, picking up enough speed that the wind clawed at him, buffeting against his ears.
“Do something.” Hollen whimpered, fighting back tears. “I can’t do this. Let’s find the car. We can ride on top of it for all I care, but I can’t do this the whole way.”
Munro hummed, most of his voice lost to the wind. Hollen couldn’t miss it when Munro spoke directly into his ear, the tendril of his breath sending a shiver along his spine. “I could distract you.”
“Please. Anything.” His teeth were chattering now, tears building in his eyes. Even George was starting to stir, obvious in his concern. But what could a demon do against a thousand feet?
“Look at me,” said Munro, his voice brooking no argument.
Hollen only hesitated for a moment before tilting his head up, but he couldn’t open his eyes again. He couldn’t see the wasteland that the sky was, the moisture gathering on Munro’s clothes as they passed through a low-hanging cloud that strained at his lungs.
Lips touching his pulled him straight out of his terrified spiral. With the air carving through his hair and pure weightlessness in his core, the kiss was like a dream. The cold didn’t matter, and neither did the unknown as Munro deepened the kiss, sliding their lips together before begging for entry.
“You need to watch where you’re going,” said Hollen, mumbling against Munro’s lips before letting himself be led deeper. He would never get used to that perfect touch—or the taste of spices over his tongue. Munro was unlike any man, and that was exactly the way he liked it. Each lick into his mouth was a surprise, every scrape of teeth or nip a seduction.
Munro let out a low moan as Hollen kissed him back, reaching to touch the base of those delicate and powerful wings. He wasn’t sure if they were sensitive, but the noise that escaped through Munro’s lips certainly made them seem so.
Munro faltered for just a moment, his wings going slack as they tilted into a spiral. He grinned against Hollen’s lips as he let out a squeak, the air rushing past them before Munro managed to level out again, his wings catching the air and sending them upward.
“Again,” said Munro, his voice almost lost to the wind.
Hollen let himself explore the muscles and ridges of the wings as much as he could reach, dipping his fingers between the feathers likes strands of rigid silk. When he dug his nails in, Munro let out a strangled moan, and they dropped again, Munro panting against his lips as he recovered.
“I might lose myself if you do that again,” said Munro, his voice shaky. “We have the whole sky between us, but maybe we should save that for solid ground.”
“Okay.” Hollen withdrew his hands to Munro’s neck, clutching at the thick muscle there. The cold seemed to have faded, but there was moisture gathering on his eyelashes that only got worse as they passed through a thick fog. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the throb in his gut and the dizzying heat that fizzled through him.
“I didn’t mean for you to stop.”
Hollen blinked, looking up at Munro. If his hair hadn’t been tied back, it would have been a true disaster. The strands that had escaped were flying all about, catching the sun that was over Munro’s shoulder and sending dazzling specks of light everywhere. Hollen blinked against the brightness before burying his face into Munro’s collar.
There, just like on his own neck, was a throbbing jugular that pulsed with each beat of Munro’s heart. It seemed to sink with his wings, the rise and fall matching almost perfectly.
Without thinking, Hollen placed a kiss on the smooth stretch of skin. What had seemed perfect was bumpy under his lips, faded circular scars dotting the entire surface. He could hardly see them, but he found them with his lips, stroking one of the larger ones with his tongue. It was a place that was so sensitive on him, and he could imagine what it did to Munro. His own wrist still throbbed when he brushed it, the nerves frayed and oversensitive since Munro had bitten him. With so many bites, it had to be worse.
“How many times have you been bitten?” asked Hollen. In truth, he hadn’t expected it. Munro was the one who did the biting. The thought of him exposing his neck to someone else had jealousy curling in his belly.
“Too many times to count.” Munro squeezed Hollen’s ass where he was supporting him, pushing a gasp through Hollen’s lips.
“How many times did you like it?” The jealousy thickened into something dark, and Hollen nipped at the skin, tracing his own dull teeth over that surface. He had no chance of breaking skin, but Munro reacted as if he had, bringing Hollen flush against him.
“There was a time when I found it pleasurable.” Munro kneaded his ass, moving his fingers deeper to the clothed crevice between his cheeks. “That was a long time ago.”
It was almost sad.
“Can I?” Hollen kissed the spot again before bringing his fingertips to the surface. It was damp from his saliva and the air, but it quickly dried as another draft lifted them skyward.
Munro nodded, a groan on his lips. “ Yes.”
Hollen let out a whimper, inadvertently grinding against Munro’s belly as he eyed his prize. He took a deep breath before leaning in, pressing his teeth to the flesh.
“ Hollen.” Munro tightened his grip.
He’d never heard his name said quite like that, and it urged him on, until he was digging his teeth in harder, and he knew he would leave a mark— his mark. Munro’s breath turned ragged, and they slipped sideways through the air as Hollen released him, only to bite again in the same spot. His teeth slid into the little divots he’d created.
“What you do to me,” said Munro. Hollen had no choice but to let go as Munro lowered him, bringing their groins together in a rush of air.
Munro was hard—unmistakably hard and probably aching in the same way Hollen was. The touch only lasted a moment before Munro heaved him higher again, and Hollen latched onto his skin. Instead of biting down, he sucked the skin into his mouth, likely leaving a bruise behind that was sure to sting.
It wasn’t enough. It never was with Munro. Even when he knew a bite would kill him, he still ached for those savage points in his flesh. A bed was what he really needed to explore Munro the way he wanted. There was a finality to the trip and the question looming over his head that made it even more urgent.
“Can I touch you?” asked Hollen, whispering against Munro’s skin and kissing his way up his neck. “I don’t want you to fall.” The proximity to the ground was just as important as his apparent forgetfulness about his fear of heights. It was hard to focus on fears when he was throbbing.
“Just be careful.” Munro closed his eyes. Whether it was against the wind or to center himself, Hollen didn’t know.
The problem was, Hollen had never been careful a day in his life. If it was a bad idea, the payout was always better.
Locking one arm behind Munro’s neck to brace himself, he trailed the other down Munro’s chest, flicking more of his buttons open. It would have been easier with his right hand, but he muddled through with his left, struggling as the fabric resisted him. Munro’s only response was a single twitch of his lips and the flex of his hands.
Is this where the expression ‘flying fuck’ came from? Hollen grinned to himself before dipping his hand inside Munro’s shirt. It probably wasn’t fair to strip him completely and let his clothes be taken away on the wind. When they arrived, Erie would have some strange looks and stern words for them.
Cool skin and pebbled nipples met his hand, Munro’s chest heaving as he gasped. He was so very sensitive, but hard down to the very shape of his chest.
“Is this okay?” asked Hollen, touching one nipple then the next. They seemed to be keeping aloft now, and hell, he was ready to push.
“I’m usually a patient man, Hollen,” said Munro, licking his lower lip. “But you’re testing me.”
“Hmmm.” Hollen slowed his touch, instead kneading one pec. Munro flexed beneath his hand, the muscle bulging. “I wouldn’t want you to fall.” He reached for the nipple between his fingers, pinching it hard.
Pain could go one of two ways during sex, and from Munro’s groan and his stuttered wingbeats, Hollen had nailed his preferences. Before Munro could recover, Hollen dipped his head, taking that same bud into his mouth and biting down just hard enough to leave marks. He could picture his teeth as pronged metal clamps that would hold on, even if they tumbled.
“ Consarn.”
Hollen wasn’t sure if that was a curse or a praise, but neck aching, he moved his mouth to the other nipple, this time licking and sucking at the bud until it grew hard. His arm shuddered at the angle of holding on, but he didn’t give in.
“You made me beg last time,” said Hollen, speaking between each kiss and suck. Munro’s chest was flushed pink, even if it was cooler than his own. The cold air around them was taking its toll.
“I’m sorry,” said Munro, his voice cracking. “I’m not sure I can take much more if you don’t touch me.”
Not quite. Closing his eyes against the pretty picture, Hollen hauled himself upright before bringing their lips together. Munro was hungry, devouring him, even if he was being noticeably careful to keep his teeth to himself. Hollen tried not to lose his grip on reality, slipping just as much as Munro was.
“Jesus.” Hollen pulled his lips free, bucking his hips against Munro’s belly. He was hard there, too. Every part of him seemed to be tense, muscles strained as he held himself back. It was a wonder to think what would actually happen if Munro let go.
I would fall and die. That thought was less than sexy.
“Do you think we can fuck like this?” asked Hollen, whispering against Munro’s lips. The steady up and down would probably add to the friction with the way his belly was swooping with each shallow dive just pushing him closer to the edge.
“No lube.” Munro was all business, slipping his tongue into Hollen’s mouth between words. “And if I drop a button from up here, it might cause some questions if it lands on someone below.”
“Spit will dry as soon as I get it on your cock,” said Hollen, nipping at Munro’s lower lip. “But I’ve got an idea.”
He reached down, dipping past the button and inside Munro’s pants. The angle was harsh, his wrist already aching, but he found exactly what he was hoping for. Munro was warmest here, the tip of his cock slick, even with his pants absorbing some of the pre-cum. It probably helped that he wasn’t wearing boxers.
Hollen let out a gasp when Munro followed suit, spitting on his fingers of one hand and immediately sliding into the back of Hollen’s pants. He hefted Hollen higher with his other hand, pulling his cheeks wide through his clothes.
When Hollen stroked at the head of Munro’s cock, Munro dipped inside him with two fingers, going as deep as the angle allowed. It was too shallow to hit his prostate and just enough to stretch him.
“So tight for me,” said Munro, nuzzling into Hollen’s neck and sucking deep through his nose. “So good.”
“I can do three.” Hollen let out a gasp, rocking into Munro’s belly then thrusting back on those brutal fingers. He’d had quicker, but it still stung in that exhilarating way that never failed to get him off. The third slipped inside him a second later, and he let out a curse.
“How quick can you recover?” Hollen didn’t wait for the answer before he started jerking Munro off. At first it was dry, his hand spreading warmth over the shaft, but with each pass over the head, Munro grew slicker. Munro’s breath stuttered, his breathing going deep.
“I’m not three hundred anymore.” Munro dipped his head, placing his open mouth on Hollen’s clothed shoulder. There were no teeth, but the threat was there.
If only. That bite would be perfect right now, turning his nerves into highways of euphoria. Instead, he got to work, jerking off Munro as fast as he could in the limited space he had to work with, twisting his wrist to palm at the head. It didn’t take long for Munro to let out a groan, wetness coating his hand and dripping down his cock.
Hollen did his best to spread the slickness, keeping Munro’s cock protected from the wind. Munro stayed hard—not throbbing, but still solid.
“Hold on,” said Munro.
One moment Hollen was clinging tight and the next he was falling, his hand slipping from Munro’s pants as he was turned around. Munro’s hands never left him, merely spinning him in the air and gripping him by the chest and hip. The world was beneath him, and he was staring straight into it with Munro above him, still flying and somehow holding them up.
He pulled his pants down just past his ass and a second later Munro was pushing his slick cock between Hollen’s cheeks, then deeper, impaling him all the way in a slow, smooth thrust.
Hollen let out a yell, more of exhilaration than fear as they dipped, him dangling down with only Munro holding him up. He reached back, clutching at Munro’s hips as Munro pressed his chest against Hollen’s back.
It stung, his eyes watering against the wind until he closed them, giving himself completely over to Munro. There was movement, but he couldn’t sense if it was up or down. Gravity didn’t seem to matter much when he was flying with a cock in his ass.
“Keep your eyes open.”
Munro suddenly flapped his wings, sending Hollen lurching forward and slipping almost entirely free from his impalement before they settled. As the world tilted against, Hollen slid all the way to the base with a gasp and a flaring ache in his spine.
It’s so beautiful. What had started as a lovely day was bright, the cold nothing when there was sweat beading over his skin. There was a elegance to the organized chaos below, little dots of cars zipping at a sluggish pace and people nothing more than specks moving in groups as they bustled below. Erie and Adair were probably among them, blended in as ants in a colony of daily life.
A burst of pleasure struck him as Munro bucked his hips, sending his cock straight into Hollen’s prostate. The view blurred, the city fading from his thoughts in an instant.
His arms were aching, his back throbbing from the angle as Munro let the wind take them. That small strip of exposed skin on his ass prickled as he realized how high they actually were when he spotted a radio tower below.
“Don’t drop me.” He squirmed even as he said it. He was usually moving all over the place when he was having sex, and all he could do right now was essentially dangle and hope.
“Don’t worry, baby.” Munro nipped his ear, hiding his sharpest teeth from the touch. “I’ve got you.”
The ground disappeared as Munro suddenly jerked upright, lying back against the air as if it were a bed and pulling one of Hollen’s legs free from his pants and hiking him atop. They were already falling by the time Munro grabbed his legs, spinning Hollen around until they were face to face with Hollen riding atop.
The wind picked up in an instant as their hover turned into a freefall, Munro’s beats against the wind doing nothing with him upside down. Hollen’s stomach jumped into his throat as he clutched Munro tight, his heart pounding. His body clenched, the thrill buzzing under his skin.
With a flap of his wings, Munro righted them, catching Hollen by the ass and helping Hollen wrap his leg around Munro’s waist and his arms around his neck. The sudden jolt drove Munro so deep that Hollen nearly came, his cock throbbing.
“Much better.” Munro grinned, bringing their lips together.
Flying had been one thing, but getting fucked mid-flight was on another planet of sensations that he’d never expected. Each wingbeat had Munro sliding in and out, rubbing against his walls in all the best ways. The kiss dissolved into something without meaning and end, as Hollen’s breaths grew harsher. His limbs tingled with both exhaustion and ecstasy, his mind whirling.
One touch was all it would take, but there was no way he was letting go of Munro to reach down and take care of himself. He rocked his hips the best he could, his pants barely clinging to one leg. I’m going to have fun explaining it if I lose my pants.
Munro’s breath suddenly grew fast, the pace of his beats stuttering with each thrust. Hollen could feel the warmth trickle from him as Munro came, the cum cooling almost instantly as he slid out.
Hollen whined at the loss, searching with his tongue and his teeth for that little extra push to tip him over the edge. In the end, it was Munro, pulling out only to thrust three fingers deep and fuck his prostate head-on.
Hollen came with a smothered cry as Munro forced him through it, still teasing him hard, even after he’d emptied himself. He couldn’t breathe—couldn’t think of anything but those lips and fingers in him, not the approaching ground or the glint of a plane far above. Nothing.
Munro finally slipped out as Hollen started whimpering in earnest, petting Hollen’s hair and easing his head onto his shoulder. Hollen tightened his grip, wincing as Munro squeezed his ass once before attempting to pull his pants back over his chilled leg. It didn’t work at all, his toes curled and the cum drying like instant cement.
“Does this mean we’re in the mile high club?” asked Hollen, huffing out a laugh. “I should really get a badge or something.”
Munro chuckled, patting his bare ass gently. “We’re only about three quarters of a mile up, but close enough. Keep an eye out for the next town you see, and we’ll stop to get cleaned up.”
Hollen hummed, burying his head. All he could see for miles was field after field.