Chapter 15
Notes:
The monster is born
Rowan
Milo claimed his mouth like he’d claimed everything else in Rowan’s life—with a reckless abandon that forced Rowan to follow.
Rowan hadn’t known when Milo had sunk his teeth into his arm that he’d soon be sinking those teeth into his lips too. Tugging, demanding, taking with a swipe of his tongue that coaxed Rowan to do the same.
Rowan chased Milo’s tongue into his mouth, licking behind his teeth as Milo darted away, the frustration of trying to pin him down taking on a whole new dimension.
He grasped Milo’s hips like that would help to keep him still, claws pressing in where his shirt was riding up. His skin was warm and smooth, like honey dripping over Rowan’s fingers, melting further the higher Rowan’s own temperature rose.
He was a fire dragon, so everything he did came with a spark of heat, but no one had ever made him feel quite as hot as Milo did.
Whether it was from frustration or kissing him, he was ready to explode every time they crossed paths.
Milo was the ignition to whatever spark existed between them, Rowan the accelerant.
They had finally caught fire.
He ran his hands up Milo’s sides, curling them around his sharp shoulder blades. Milo shivered at the drag of his claws.
“You’d make an excellent backscratcher,” he mumbled absently against Rowan’s mouth.
It was nonsensical and completely Milo. It shouldn’t have turned him on more, but did. He bucked up into Milo’s ass, the swell of his erection aching for relief. “Not the job I was aspiring to.”
Milo pulled back slightly to look down, the sight of his mouth now swollen and pink not helping with the tightness in Rowan’s groin whatsoever.
“Well, let’s see how you shape up on that front,” Milo murmured.
It took a second to register, and by then Milo was already reaching between them to feel along the outline of Rowan’s cock through his thin pajama pants.
He started at the head, cupping the leaking tip against Rowan’s thigh before shimmying down the shaft to make sure he got exact measurements.
He ended at the base, not missing a detail as he slipped his fingers underneath to weigh Rowan, balls included.
Rowan hissed and bucked into the ministrations, his head falling back into the armchair and claws digging deeper into Milo’s back. He was sweating buckets already, droplets clinging to the hair at his temples and soaking his shirt in patches.
Milo observed it all before quicksilver eyes met his, his pupils now slits as his dragon peeked out from under the surface, as if called by Rowan.
It stole Rowan’s breath.
“Beautiful,” he murmured out loud, glancing between the crystalline orbs. He reached up to frame Milo’s face, the claw of one thumb settling at the corner of his eye.
Nothing had seemed to faze Milo so far, but hearing that word appeared to shock him.
Rowan felt the need to fix that immediately, dragging him back down to his mouth.
Milo moaned around his tongue, letting go of his dick and tangling his hands in Rowan’s hair until it was knotted as they continued to kiss messily.
Milo’s hips began to rock, grinding against him as they kissed, and Rowan growled in satisfaction feeling Milo’s answering erection push into his stomach.
Rowan wanted so much all at once that all he could do was rock up into him, urgency wiping any plan or control from his mind as he gave in to the immediate feeling of having this infuriatingly beautiful person in his arms, and the pleasure of finally releasing the tension that had built up.
There was no way Rowan was going to last doing anything fancy. He felt like a teenager about to explode at the simplest touch.
Milo abandoned his hold on Rowan’s hair and slid his hands down to cup Rowan’s chest. Specifically over his nipples. There was some definite squeezing going on that both embarrassed and excited Rowan.
He couldn’t help the buck of his hips or the throb of his dick in response, and Milo made a happy murmur like he’d noticed. He pulled back, an unholy light in his eyes as he demanded, “Off.”
Rowan had never whipped a garment off faster in his life, throwing the shirt god knows where.
His chest was a mix of muscle and bulk, scales and skin, with a smattering of hair. The main patch of scales curled over his ribs toward his groin, another curling toward his left nipple under his collarbone.
The way Milo devoured the sight made Rowan want to cross his arms across like a shy maiden.
Milo was having none of that though, greedy hands going back to him without the barrier of cloth, sifting through Rowan’s red chest hair and then cupping the holy grail in each hand, if his expression was anything to go by.
Rowan was biting his lip trying not to moan out loud.
Was his chest always this sensitive? He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t remember a single other person who had devoted so much time to it, either.
His nipples were already peaked, begging to be touched and his skin was tingling under Milo’s hands. He had to fight not to arch his back.
“It should be illegal for you to wear shirts,” Milo said, squeezing the bulk of Rowan’s tits in his hands.
Jesus. Why was he thinking about his chest in those terms now?
He flushed bright red.
Milo noticed, eyes still completely draconic. “Does someone like the idea of walking around with his tits out, ready to be played with?”
Rowan’s mouth dropped open in astonishment at the vulgar words, his dick spurting a drop of precome.
Milo squeezed again, undulating his palms, and it turned to a near fountain in Rowan’s pants. He rocked his hips into Milo’s ass, desperate for friction as he tried to coax Milo to grind against him.
He refused.
“I think he does.” Milo grinned, enjoying his misery. “And why not? These are perfect.”
He leaned down and licked the swell of Rowan’s right tit, avoiding his nipple on purpose. It was as frustrating as it was heavenly.
“Milo,” Rowan said through gritted teeth as he cupped the back of his head to try and get him to change direction, but he was just along for the ride at this point. Milo had already strapped him in.
Milo took a chunk of flesh between his teeth and nibbled.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” Rowan shouted to the ceiling.
He felt the gust of Milo’s laughter drying the wet area.
“You—”
A hint of scales across Milo’s neck caught the low light as he moved, the shimmer iridescent, and Rowan was reminded that he should probably mention that to him. He swept his thumb against them and Milo shivered.
Milo bit him again, and any thought of mentioning the scales evaporated.
Later.
He’d say something later.
“I can’t believe you were jealous of Ray,” Milo teased before soothing the bite with his tongue.
Rowan grunted, fingers tightening in his hair. “Says you. You were jealous of that waitress.”
Milo growled, his new claws digging into Rowan’s other pec in a clear warning. “Don’t say her name.”
“Waitress is not her name.”
Milo pinched Rowan’s nipple and twisted in punishment. And Rowan fucking moaned out loud, the jolt of pain almost euphoric, blacking out his vision.
He snapped his lips shut, but not fast enough.
Milo was grinning, wiggling on his lap. “Did you like that?”
Rowan flushed all the way down his chest, only highlighting the pink and swollen bud Milo had just tortured. “No.”
Milo took the other nipple between his fingers and twisted it in the opposite direction.
Rowan threw his arm over the back of the chair, arching his back as his mouth fell open on the filthiest sound he’d ever made.
“Mmm, I think you do. These are so pretty.” Milo cupped the swell of his chest before dipping down to flick one nipple. “And tasty. Do you think if I sucked hard enough something would come out?”
“Milo, I’m gonna fucking come,” he groaned, his ears burning and skin on fire.
He was one hundred percent serious too.
“And ruin the fun so fast?” Milo’s eyes were glittering with amusement and desire.
“Milo, I swear to—”
Milo closed his lips around Rowan’s nipple and sucked.
Rowan lost it, moaning like it was his job. Every suck felt like it went straight to his dick. The swirl of Milo’s tongue had been sent to torment him before it killed him.
Milo pulled off and scraped his teeth over the swollen bud, before running his lips around the nipple, round and round, like he was applying lip gloss and not his own spit.
His eyes darted up to Rowan’s ruined face and he smiled again before carefully closing his teeth around Rowan’s nipple.
Rowan fell over the edge, spilling into his pants, seeing stars and hearing white noise.
He had barely caught his breath when Milo dipped his hand into Rowan’s pants, scooping up wetness from his oversensitive dick and spreading it between his pecs before shimmying higher and struggling with his own pants.
Rowan helped him rip them straight open at the fly, the button going flying with their joint desperation to reach Milo’s cock.
He pulled it out of his briefs, pretty and pink and already leaking, and grasped the back of the armchair on either side of Rowan’s head before leaning forward and pushing his cock through the come between Rowan’s tits, rotating his hips to his own rhythm.
“Fuck,” Milo moaned, looking down at the obscene image they presented. “Push them together for me?”
Rowan didn’t think his face could get any redder, but he was still doing exactly as asked, pushing his pecs on either side to make a deeper valley for Milo to thrust into.
The head of his cock kept bobbing up to Rowan’s chin, and he leaned down on the next thrust and licked it as it passed.
“Shit, yes, just like that. That’s so hot. Fuck, Rowan!” Milo continued to babble on, his dragon on full display as he tilted his head back in ecstasy and came hard enough to splatter the scales and skin on his neck and chin.
He collapsed on Rowan’s chest in a heap of jellied limbs right after.
The apartment was silent in the aftermath, only their labored breathing audible, and Rowan suddenly remembered the circle of plants surrounding them that had seen and witnessed every filthy thing they’d just done.
He was scandalized anew.
Notes:
Not saying this came out of nowhere, because, like…we wrote it, but…kinda came out of nowhere, NGL.