Chapter 19
Chapter
Nineteen
SAWYER
Sawyer found himself on his back on the mattress with Ciaran’s tongue in his mouth and strong, red tentacles wrapped around his thighs, his arms, his waist.
They were sliding sensually, pulsing almost, holding his legs and arms outstretched, touching, tasting, teasing.
Sawyer could do nothing but moan and rock, rolling his hips. The onslaught of sensation was both too much and not enough.
He needed more.
He needed to be naked, right the fuck now. And he needed...
He needed Ciaran.
In ways he couldn’t explain. On a cellular level. He needed to belong to him. He needed to be owned, claimed. He needed there to be nothing else in the world but him, them.
Us.
Sawyer felt as if his soul was dying and the only thing that could possibly save him, fix him, soothe him was Ciaran.
He sucked on Ciaran’s tongue, drinking him in. He tilted his hips, desperate for more, unable to move, restrained in the very best of ways.
And Ciaran devoured his mouth, rocking and rubbing, grinding and groaning. His long arms were so fucking divine, gently holding Sawyer like he was precious, but still firm and commanding. Ciaran writhed all around him, all over him.
Sawyer had never felt so desired, so wanted.
He broke the kiss so he could say one word. “More.”
Ciaran groaned as he crashed his mouth onto Sawyer’s again, kissing him so fucking deeply it made Sawyer’s eyes roll back and his legs widen.
He barely noticed the red tentacles undressing him, ripping his boots off, undoing his jeans, touching and sliding over his bare skin, wrapping around him as Ciaran kissed down his neck, sucking, biting.
Fuck yes.
“Oh fuck, Ciaran, yes,” Sawyer whined. His cock was so hard, dripping precome, and he was so turned on. “I need you to fuck me.”
Ciaran pulled back, his eyes burning copper. “You are certain? I need to hear you say it.”
Sawyer slid his hands up to cup Ciaran’s jaw.
“I want this. I want to be yours, and I need you to be mine.” He sounded desperate but couldn’t bring himself to care.
“I know what it means. I know what I’m doing.
I need it. This thing... this part of my life that’s been missing, I found it here with you. ”
Sawyer didn’t really understand what he was saying.
The words were just spilling out of him, yet he knew they were true.
“All my life I’ve been an outsider, different.
I never belonged anywhere, and now I know why.
Because I belong here with you. And your consortium, in this town.
The second I stepped off that boat, this place felt like home, and now I know why.
Because of you.” He paused then, because he realised something, and it seared through him like a hot knife.
“If you don’t want this, Ciaran—if you want me to beg, I—”
Ciaran’s pupils changed in the way they did, his irises burning redder than Sawyer had ever seen them. “I want this. Don’t ever think I don’t. Your consent, your wellbeing, is paramount. I... I want you to be mine as well. I want this bond with you, I—”
“Then stop talking,” Sawyer whispered, smirking. “And do it.” Aaaaand then he remembered something. He tried to look up for his duffel bag. “The lube. It’s in my bag.”
Ciaran laughed as one of his tentacles slid around Sawyer’s inner thigh and up to push and slide under Sawyer’s balls toward his hole. It was wet and slick, probing and searching, and so fucking sublime. Sawyer’s back arched on instinct, and he groaned, long and loud.
“No lube necessary,” Ciaran murmured. Another tentacle reared up behind Ciaran’s head, the tip glistening wet. “Secretion on demand.”
“Oh fuck,” Sawyer cried, the tentacle at his hole circling, edging, and finally dipping inside him. “Oh holy fuck, yes.”
Ciaran’s eyes widened, his lips parting. “You’re so fucking hot right now. You like this?”
Sawyer’s back arched again, pleasure coursing through his bones, his blood, as the slick tendril fucked him, stretched him. “Oh god, yes. Ciaran, please.”
Ciaran kissed him again, his tongue dominating Sawyer’s, pushing in and probing in time with the tip in his arse.
Tentacles wrapped around him, held him, fucked him, and Sawyer’s body was strung tight, so aroused, so ready to come.
His cock was so fucking hard, pressed against Ciaran’s, rubbing and sliding, slick with their precome.
It was so fucking hot. He was moaning without shame.
Never in his life had he felt so consumed, so adored.
But he needed more. He needed Ciaran’s cock buried inside him. He needed him to complete this bond, to claim him, to make him his.
“God, Ciaran, please. I need it. I need you inside me.” He could have almost cried with desperation, wept with the need for it. “I need to be yours.”
The tentacle slid from his hole, and Sawyer wanted to weep for the loss of that, too, but then long red tendrils wrapped around his thighs and lifted his knees to his chest, spreading him open, and Ciaran leaned over him, their noses almost touching, his eyes imploring.
“I want to see it in your eyes when I do this,” he murmured, then pushed his cock into Sawyer’s hole.
Sawyer gasped with the intrusion, eyes widening as Ciaran pushed in slow and deep.
“Oh fuck,” Ciaran breathed. He blinked, his pupils sliding from human to not, his neck corded. He pressed his forehead to Sawyer’s, their breaths hot and heavy as they succumbed to the pleasure.
It was unlike anything Sawyer had ever felt.
A pleasure so surreal, he couldn’t describe it. Like ecstasy was designed just for them, for this, and Sawyer couldn’t contain it.
His orgasm hit him so suddenly, so forcefully, he groaned as he came, body rigid as his cock shot between them.
Ciaran’s gaze widened, pupils no longer human, and he crashed his mouth over Sawyer’s as he thrust his cock in deeper and harder. Sawyer was so overwhelmed with emotions and sensations, but Ciaran’s long red arms held him perfectly tight as the last of his orgasm rippled through him.
“Oh fuck, Sawyer,” Ciaran murmured, voice tight, body trembling. “I’m gonna come. I can’t stop.”
“Make me yours,” Sawyer whispered.
Ciaran cried out as he thrust in hard one last time, his body stilling as he came. Sawyer could feel Ciaran’s cock throbbing and spilling inside him.
Lights danced behind his eyes, pleasure coursed through him, skimming along his veins.
And then he felt it.
A warmth, a burning ember in his core, behind his sternum, his ribs. Like a fuse was lit, fireworks and heaven inside him. It bloomed outward and jittered through him, wonderful and unexplainable. When Ciaran gasped and shuddered, Sawyer knew he felt it too.
He felt... different. The same, but better. Like himself but something new as well. As if he was in a new reality, a new beginning. A new him.
The real him.
He wanted to laugh and cry and found himself doing both. All of Ciaran’s limbs wrapped around him, held him, and he laughed into Sawyer’s neck, kissing and crying himself. “You felt that?” he whispered.
“What was it?” Sawyer asked.
Ciaran pulled back, his eyes still not entirely human. He was still buried inside Sawyer, and his cock twitched and surged as he drove his hips up into him. “The bond,” he said. “I think. Fuck, Sawyer. I’ve never felt anything like it.”
“Like we saw the secrets of the universe,” Sawyer murmured.
The fire in Ciaran’s eyes was different now. Warmer, somehow. More pure, and nothing but...
Jesus. Was it love?
It couldn’t be, but wow.
It seared into Sawyer, radiating through him, filling every fibre of his being and lighting his synapses on fire.
He wanted more of him, as if he hadn’t had enough—he would never have enough—as if Ciaran wasn’t still inside him, his cock still hard and buried to the hilt.
Sawyer tried to move, to roll his hips, to feel Ciaran begin to slide in and out again. By god, he needed it, but Ciaran’s tentacles slithered around him, holding Sawyer tighter.
“If I move, I fear I won’t stop,” Ciaran murmured, face twisting with anguish. “I don’t want to stop. I want to stay like this forever, but you...”
“But I what?” Sawyer asked.
“Are human. Your body can’t recover as mine does.”
Sawyer laughed, and, startling Ciaran, he pushed up and rolled them over. He relished the look of surprise on Ciaran’s face as he slid back down onto Ciaran’s cock.
Thick and rock hard, it felt like heaven.
Sawyer let his head fall back as he moaned, and red tentacles slithered around his torso and up to his neck. The feeling of being surrounded, supported, held and caressed was.... Fuck, it was everything.
Sawyer rose up a little and sank back down, making Ciaran’s back arch and his tentacles pulse.
Fuck.
Then one tentacle swept across his chest, a sucker latching onto his nipple. Sawyer’s eyes went wide as pleasure jolted through him, because holy fuck.
And then another tentacle wrapped around his waist and slid around his cock, jerking him off while he rode Ciaran’s cock.
“Oh, Jesus fuck,” Sawyer cried, rocking and riding, lost to the onslaught of sensation, of pure pleasure, of Ciaran filling him so completely.
And when he was too far gone, unable to think, unable to process anything but the bliss, he lost his rhythm, and Ciaran took over.
Red tentacles wound around his hips, moving him, holding him in place while he drove up into Sawyer’s willing body.
Oh, so fucking willing.
Sawyer loved it. He wanted nothing else for the rest of his life. This, and only this. This man, this cephamorph. This perfection.
And when Ciaran came this time, pulsing and spurting deep inside, Sawyer felt it all again.
The rush of...whatever it was. Magic. This magic.
The rush of it that filled him, taking a hold of his core, spreading and radiating the very essence of Ciaran, of who and what he was, and making him Sawyer’s.
The biochemical bond, their bodies forever changing, lives entwined, hearts beating as one.