Page 2 of Beyond the Ruby River
Daka grinned up at him through lowered lashes. “Did you catch that bird for me?”
The lad’s lips parted. “I, er…” Heat rose to sun-kissed cheeks. He held out the bird, wrapped in netting, legs tied with a string. “Yes. I built the trap myself.”
Daka reached past the squirming quail to take hold of the lad’s waist. Lean muscle flexed beneath the thin fabric. He smelled of youthful enthusiasm, a feast in the making. “What’s your name?”
“Wen.”
“I’m Daka.”
“Hi.” Wen breathed the greeting on a sigh. His body swayed forward.
Daka closed the gap between them, chests brushing. He drank in the boy’s aroma with each deep lungful, his hand against Wen’s lower back to pull him in. Brushing his lips along the smooth skin of Wen’s collarbone, Daka darted his tongue out for a taste. Lovely and fresh with a trace of salt.
“Come with me, Wen.” Daka took his hand and led them from the brothel farther down the alley. “You’re a hunter?”
“A trapper. Do you work at the Golden Jackal?” Wen curled his fingers around Daka’s. His palm was sweaty. Daka wanted to lick it too.
“I don’t.” Hunger clawed in the pit of Daka’s belly. Gaze flashing side to side, he spotted a narrow passage and pulled Wen into an alcove. If someone were to pass by, they could see, but Daka intended to be quick. And the risk was exhilarating.
“Then why—”
Daka kissed him, sucking Wen’s tongue into his mouth and feeding on the waves of pleasure Wen gave off. He pressed their hips together to find Wen’s shaft beginning to plump.
The quail gave a loud squawk. Wen startled.
Daka giggled against his cheek. “You must tell the little birdie to be quiet, or someone might see me sucking your cock.”
Wen gasped as Daka’s roaming hand delved between them to stroke him to full attention. “But if you don’t work at the Golden Jackal, why are you…?”
“Because you look delicious.” Daka palmed Wen’s balls and gave a gentle squeeze. “Isn’t that enough?”
Wen searched his face, lips parted, eyes half-lidded.
Daka set his mouth in a pretty pout.
“More than enough,” said Wen, his free hand on Daka’s shoulder as Daka sank to his knees to savor this act and the meal it would provide.
Pushing the soft fabric of Wen’s skirt up to his waist, Daka revealed his prize. No loincloth. His florid staff stood pert, long and lean like its owner, cleanly cut and rigid in Daka’s grasp. His mouth watered. He leaned in to rub his face against the hot flesh. Licking the raised columns of each vein, Daka delighted in his good fortune.
Until his gaze tripped to the quail, hanging in Wen’s hand precisely at Daka’s eye-level. The damn bird was staring right at him.
Oh no. Absolutely not.
Wen was near to oblivious as Daka plucked the tied creature from his loose grip and set it on the street facing away from the proceedings.
That settled, Daka returned his attention and his mouth to Wen’s cock where they belonged. He hummed while he took the length to the back of his throat.
“Oh.” Wen’s hands, both of them now that the quail had been dealt with, settled on the back of Daka’s head and gripped his hair.
Daka moaned his encouragement. If Wen wanted to pull his hair, he wouldn’t argue. His fingers felt marvelous against Daka’s scalp, directing his movement. Daka held the backs of Wen’s thighs and squeezed the lovely lithe muscles he discovered there.
The demonic craving inside him opened its gaping maw and fed. Daka’s mind drifted as he sucked his treasure and feasted on Wen’s mounting excitement.
Would the mysterious man he’d followed take control like Wen had, moving his head this way and that as he thrust, mindless in his seeking? Or would he let Daka set the pace? Would he wait patiently for Daka to finish him as he chose, perhaps bringing him close before backing off to watch him twitch? Maybe a little of both. He longed to find out.
The muscles beneath Daka’s palms began to shake with strain.
Wen swelled, stretching Daka wide as he pumped seed down his gullet with a cry of pleasure.
