Page 6 of The Trickster's Heart

“That’s not what I asked.”

“It’s what you wanted to know.”

The air thickened. Hercules grunted in response as he stared at Angelos’s tongue that flicked out over perfectly pink lips—lips that Hercules wanted to bite and bruise. He angled his body towards Angelos and shamelessly ogled his lithe frame and mischievous smirk. Hercules’s instinct to fight or fuck immediately veered to the latter.

“Where are you staying tonight?” Hercules asked, the implication obvious. He nearly jumped out of his chair as Angelos placed his hand on Hercules’s thigh, squeezing it.

Angelos grinned, as though he surmised everything he needed to know from Hercules’s reaction. “You seem a little tightly wound.”

“You can’t answer a direct question, can you? And what would you know of that?” Hercules’s voice was strained.

“Enough,” Angelos shrugged. He leaned in, and Hercules froze. Angelos’s tone was sweet and seductive, his words breathy as he whispered in Hercules’s ear. “Do you need to toss someone around to feel better?”

Hercules’s gaze furrowed. “You make me sound archaic.”

Angelos pulled away from Hercules and shrugged. He took a sip of his wine and some of it spilled down his chin, staining it purple. Hercules stared at the tantalizing drop as it trickled down Angelos’s throat.

“Quite the contrary.” Angelos’s tone was conspiratorial. “More people should be direct. I, for example, am perfectly happy being tossed around.” He tilted his head, and his gaze flickered towards the staircase at the far end of the tavern. When he turned back to Hercules, his eyes were blown out with lust.

“I’m staying upstairs.” He sounded out of breath as he got up from his seat and started weaving through the angry crowd without a backward glance. Hercules audibly cursed and nearly knocked his chair over as he stood up, barreling through the drunken patrons to follow Angelos. All he could see through the crowd was a halo of golden hair, and he followed it. Angelos disappeared through the dark doorway, and Hercules was only a few paces behind.

Hercules expected to see Angelos waiting on the staircase, but the moment Hercules stepped into the dark corridor, Angelos was on him. His hands went to Hercules’s broad arms, holding on tight as if he never wanted to let go. Angelos’s body rocked against Hercules, grinding their erections together.

“Oh, I was so hoping you’d follow,” Angelos whispered gleefully.

Hercules groaned at the sudden contact, and the last of his control snapped. He wrapped an arm around Angelos’s waist and picked him up, slamming him against the wall. Angelos’s head fell back, and he whimpered, his hips still rocking against Hercules. Hercules wrapped his free hand around Angelos’s neck, tightening his grip ever-so-slightly. Angelos made an even higher pitched, eager sound as his eyes nearly rolled back in his head.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Hercules growled, “if we go upstairs, you’re not the one in charge. I am. Which means there’s no touching me, or yourself, unless I say so. Understood?”

Angelos nodded rapidly.

“Out loud.” Hercules’s voice sounded like gravel as he struggled to keep from fucking Angelos in the stairwell. A couple of tugs on their clothing and his cock would be perfectly poised at Angelos’s entrance. Hercules didn’t know the last time he’d been this hard or the last time someone had such an instantaneous effect on him.

“Understood.” Angelos agreed on an exhale, his body going limp in Hercules’s arms as he surrendered to Hercules’s control.

“So obedient,” Hercules commented. His tone was still demanding and devoid of emotion, but he watched as Angelos preened under the praise. Hercules forced himself to take a step away from the wall and place Angelos on his feet.

He nodded up the stairs. “Take me to your room then.” Angelos could only manage a nod, his expression already going glassy. Hercules watched carefully as Angelos took off up the stairs, careful to keep an eye on him in case he missed a step or tripped.

Angelos led them down the short hallway and into the last room on the right. Hercules slammed the door behind him as he followed inside, grimacing slightly when the wall shook at his show of force. The room was simple enough, with a cot and some pots for water, but it was the additional cushions in the corner that caught Hercules’s eye. He turned towards Angelos, who was staring up at Hercules in the middle of the room, waiting eagerly for Hercules to tell him what to do.

Fucking perfect.

Hercules was so hard, it was almost painful, but he forced himself to take another minute to study Angelos. He looked angelic in the low candlelight, his curls mussed in different directions, blue eyes wide open, flushed with an expression that was eager to please. The only sound in the room was their rapid breathing, although Hercules could swear he could hear his blood pulsing.

“Take your clothes off,” Hercules demanded. Angelos immediately obeyed, stepping out of the tattered tunic without a second of hesitation. Hercules could see why. He let out a grunt and felt his hand drop to his erection of its own accord. He started to stroke himself slowly through his clothes as he studied Angelos.

He was leaner than Hercules but looked like he was carved from marble—perfectly swift, lean, and golden. His cock was jutting out from his body invitingly, already glistening with his arousal. He was long, with tempting veins that Hercules wanted to trace with his tongue.

Hercules had to stop stroking himself or he was going to come just by staring. He moved over to the low cot and sat down, spreading his legs wide. He pulled up the edges of his chiton, revealing his erection to Angelos, but kept it on. Hercules watched with satisfaction as Angelos’s eyes widened at the sight. He shifted his weight, clearly struggling to stay still per Hercules’s early instructions.

Hercules knew he was pleasing; his body was the opposite of Angelos’s. He was broad, every last part of his body thick and honed over years of physical labor. While Angelos almost glowed like the sun, Hercules’s was darker skinned and bronzed—as if he’d been basking in Angelos’s light all his life. Hercules was covered in a dusting of dark, coarse hair, and his cock was streaking precome against his thigh.

“Get a cushion from the corner.” Hercules broke the silence, and Angelos startled, snapped from his reverie. Angelos said nothing but nodded, swallowing thickly and licking his lips as he did so. He brought it towards Hercules and held it with outstretched hands, refusing to do a single thing that Hercules hadn’t demanded.

“Put it on the floor,” Hercules pointed in between his open legs, “then get on your knees atop it and open that pretty mouth for me.” Angelos’s eyes fluttered as he moved instinctually, every part of his body pulled tight with anticipation and arousal. He dropped to his knees and stuck his tongue out, and Hercules felt all of the remaining blood in his body rush south.

“You look gorgeous like this.” Hercules softened his voice and slid his hand into Angelos’s hair, gripping it. His tone and actions were in conflict with one another, and Angelos spun at the duality.

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