23. Chapter 23
Sparks Fly
I’m standing in my living room, staring at Dis in a way that I suspect is far too similar to the way that, downstairs, right now, Dark is staring at Bunny.
Dis stood up and turned to face me when I walked in. But he didn’t turn the TV off, and now The Golden Girls are playing behind him, the shifting lights of the screen turning him into a stark silhouette.
His eyes are gleaming. Two bright sparks of cerulean light amongst the obsidian shadows of his form.
His expression is not entirely unlike the way Dark was watching Bunny. It feels like a close mirror of my own stare. As if a feedback loop is zinging between our locked gazes.
And just like that, everything I was wistfully longing for downstairs, doesn’t seem so unobtainable. It feels as if it might not be very far away after all. Perhaps close enough to feel its breath on the back of my neck.
I swallow. The gravity in here feels all wrong. Far too heavy. But I’m pretty sure it isn’t Dis doing it.
Sod the coffee shop. Bunny can handle it. I don’t want to go back downstairs. I want to be here.
“Are you hungry?” I say and it comes out hoarse.
Sapphire eyes flare. “For you, Little Witch?”
I nod shakily.
His eyes glow even brighter. “Always.”
I’m moving. Feet stumbling over the floorboards. Drawn towards him. As if he is the centre of all gravity. The flame to my moth.
My hands yank at my clothes as I go. Tearing, pulling, discarding. I like my clothes, and it’s turning out to be a slow, expensive and laborious task to restock my wardrobe after the fire. But right now my outfit is just cloth that’s in the way.
I’m naked by the time I reach the circle. I step into it without hesitation. No pause, no lingering. As if my body no longer has any doubts.
Dis swirls around me. As is his habit. The cold, mist-like touch of him enveloping me, makes me shiver and causes my nipples to pebble. I love this feeling, of him being everywhere, touching all of me all at once. It’s addictive.
He tugs on my piercings, all of them, and my breath comes out in a hiss. The sensations rush through me, collide, and intensify.
Shadows glide, coalesce, and Dis forms. In front of me this time. Delight zings through me as I look up at him.
His arms move, but whatever he has in mind, I have a better idea.
With a grin, I drop to my knees. His eyes swirl cobalt.
I reach for his fly, and find buttons. A pleased chuckle bubbles out of me. I’m glad not to have found some weird, fancy Shadow Realm fastenings. I know how to handle these. And I’m also glad he has exceptional taste. Buttons are sophisticated. That’s why I choose them.
With great grace and agility, I undo his fly while staring up at him with my best sultry look.
The air around me thickens. Hums. Heats. The atmosphere takes on a syrupy quality.
My smirk intensifies. He’s down so bad. For me. It’s fantastic and incredible and a little overwhelming if I think about it too hard, which I’m not doing because I’ve just freed a truly magnificent cock.
I stare at it for a moment. It’s hard. And big. Begging to be touched. I’m barely registering that it’s formed of condensed shadows. That doesn’t seem significant. It’s Dis’s cock. Hard for me when I haven’t even touched him yet. That’s the only thing that’s relevant.
I don’t want him because he’s a monster, I want him because he is Dis.
I’m drooling now. So turned on, it’s unreal. I need to taste, lick, and savour Dis’s cock. Need it like I need oxygen and a beating heart.
But I’ve been blessed with another fantastic idea, and the futon is already in its bed configuration. Perfect.
“I have an idea!” I blurt. “Lie on the futon, on your side.”
Dis doesn’t swirl. He’s simply in front of me one second, and lying on the futon the next. As if he was so eager to move he couldn’t be bothered with physics.
It’s really fucking sexy.
So keen to obey me, he bent time and distance. I can just tell that this knowledge is going to permanently alter my brain chemistry when I reflect on it later. But right now, I have a gorgeous man lying on a futon needing his gorgeous cock sucked.
I move, not as supernaturally quick as him, but still not bad for a human. I’m on the futon next to him in no time at all. Lying down with my face next to his cock, and my cock next to his.
Dis growls in appreciation.
“Um… this is called a sixty-nine,” I say, and I have no idea why I’ve slipped into commentary.
“I highly approve of this human custom,” says Dis.
Then he moves.
Tight, wet heat envelops my cock from tip to root. No warning. No build up. Just zero, to being deep-throated, in the blink of an eye.
My lungs stutter. A gurgle twists in my throat. My spine contorts. My toes curl.
Fucking hell.
Dis sucks like his life depends on it, and my vision whites out and brain cells fizz.
Oh my god. This is supposed to be a sixty-nine. I’m supposed to be the more experienced one. This is no time to go all pillow princess.
I move my head forward and wrap my lips around his cock. I whimper around it as he does something with his tongue that I absolutely have to add to my repertoire.
Concentrate, Felix, you can do this.
I take him deeper. Cushioning the surprisingly warm weight of him on my tongue. He tastes good. Like nothing I’ve ever tasted before. Lightning and winter nights. Galaxies and ocean depths.
It’s exquisite. Heady. A pleasure all of its own.
I suck, lick, slurp and devour. I take him as deep as I can.
He feels so good. So right. The ache in my jaw is so satisfying.
Peace settles over me, and I soar. I bob my head and hum contently.
I’d be riding waves of ecstasy if I was just blowing him, the fact he is also worshipping my cock, is the cherry on the cake.
A keen surge of pleasure that mingles with the joy of having him in my throat.
Dual delights that are driving me feral.
Carnal need that’s igniting all the wild, primal part of me and burning away the thin veneer of civilisation.
I’m a beast. Tangled with the person I want. Fucking each other in our den.
My orgasm slams through me without warning. Burning, blazing, scorching through me. I muffle my cry by sucking harder on his cock. My hips dance, thrusting into him, pushing my cock deeper into his soft and willing throat. I shoot my load deep inside him and he swallows around me.
As my wave of ecstasy ebbs, his crests. The futon shakes. The plastic covering the window flaps alarmingly. A singeing smell fills the air. Something thick, heated, and viscous pours down my throat.
Dis groans around my cock, the pitch far too low for me to hear, but I feel it all right.
I squeal as I buck frantically, nearly cumming again. Dis releases my cock, and my lungs heave, gasping in air.
Holy fuck.
Wheezing, I scramble around and collapse next to his head, our noses nearly touching.
He’s not the least bit out of breath, the bastard, but his eyes are gently swirling with different shades of blue. Each one achingly beautiful.
My nose twitches, the singeing smell is lingering. I lift my head and look over his shoulder.
The frayed edges of the worn carpet are smouldering slightly.
“You set fire to the carpet!”
Dis winces, his gaze drops. “Apologies,” he says quietly.
I raise an eyebrow. Is he… embarrassed? That’s adorable.
“I thought you were done with setting fire to my shit,” I say.
His blue eyes lift up to meet mine again, full of lust and promise. “Please allow me to make amends.”
I lie back down and get comfortable. “Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?”
“I will purchase you a new rug.”
I blink.
The corner of Dis’s mouth twitches.
My eyes narrow.
Both corners of his mouth twitch.
“Disney, did you just make a joke?”
He lifts his head proudly. “Yes.”
A laugh bubbles out of me. Followed by a snort. “Well done, I’m impressed.”
He grins, and it totally transforms his face. From outrageously attractive, to something that feels like it’s melting my eyeballs. My heart thuds and my stomach swoops.
I stop laughing. I just stare at him. I can’t help it. He stares back. It really is impossible.
I shake my head and snap myself out of it. “I think you really should make it up to me.”
His eyes heat. “What did you have in mind?”
“A kiss,” I say, suddenly and utterly unexpectedly.
He blinks. I blink.
He leans forward.
His mouth touches mine, and the kiss is soft. Softer than I expected from someone ancient and formidable and made of shadows. He’s careful with it. Careful with me.
The world stops. Not metaphorically. Something actually shifts, some fundamental quality of the air in the room, like the universe has registered what is happening and taken a moment to acknowledge it.
I feel it in my bones, in the marrow of me, in whatever it is that makes me a witch and him what he is.
Ancient and vast and made of shadow, and somehow here, somehow kissing me like this is something that was always going to happen, and everything before it was simply the long way around.
His hand cups my face, and I feel centuries in it. Not weight, not age, but depth. The specific depth of something that has existed long enough to know exactly what it wants.
He’s choosing this. He’s choosing me. My throat goes tight with something enormous that I’m not ready to look at directly yet, so I just kiss him back instead, which seems like the right response. Which seems, actually, like the only response.
My whole body hums. My magic stirs, rising up to meet whatever he is, and they recognise each other, and I feel that recognition like a chord struck in the dark. Almost like two things that were always supposed to find each other, finally finding each other.
In another life, I think, this could have been everything.
I let myself have it anyway. Just this. Just once. The taste of something I’m not going to get to keep, which is fine, which I’m used to, which is just how things are for people like me.
I don’t let myself think about how much that costs.
Not yet.
Right now, I’m kissing Dis and nothing else matters.