Page 13 of Haunted By the Highwayman
I reach up and take a strand of his dark hair in my hand, brushing it back from his face. I rearrange his horns with a tender touch. The highwayman fades out of my mind, and I’m thinking only of Rick. He really wants this? I only had one glass of champagne, but my happiness makes me feel drunk. Dizzy.
I take out my vampire fangs and place them in the pocket of my pants, which are still lying on the floor. Then I get down on hands and knees and close the distance between Rick and me.He smiles and holds it as I inch closer, closer, until our lips touch. We’ve never kissed before. The surreal thought hits me as I taste him, spine shivering with the sensation of him. This being our first kiss isn’t the strangest thing about this evening—not with a ghost standing over us—but it still makes my head spin. Rick’s tongue scorches my mouth, his hands soft on the sides of my face, and that’s the end of conscious thought. We kiss for a long minute, until the highwayman clears his throat, sounding amused.
Right,take him. Of course.
I crawl over to my cloak and, from the pocket, grab the lube I brought with me. After Rick’s promise earlier, I was hoping.
“You’re so organized,” Rick jokes, even as his eyes get hungry. The back of his hand is pressed softly to his mouth, disbelievingly, as though he’s trying to hold onto the feel of my kiss.
“I knewyouwouldn’t think of it,” I shoot back.
I dip my finger in the lube and start teasing him, circling his entrance so softly with the barest whisper of one finger. He leans back into me and forgets all about making any more observations about my organizational skills, humming a desperate little moan as I slide the tip of one finger inside his body. Lube trickles down my wrist, down Rick’s bare thighs. A feeling of surrealness battles with desire. I’m fingering Rick and he’s taking it like a good, needy boy. While aghosturges us on.
That reminds me where we are. I don’t want to mess up the period piece carpet. I throw my cloak under Rick, with a silent apology to the man in the costume shop. All the time, the highwayman watches, still standing tall over us, his arms folded. I inch a finger inside, two, waiting for Rick to relax for me, give in to me. Rick the sports star, the epitome of self-assurance, the wicked black-clad demon, turns to a whimpering mass of jelly around my fingers. His powerful body writhes andbucks back into me, begging for more. I hold him steady, an arm around him. Dive deeper and deeper, massaging his prostate in a gentle circular motion. Holding him close and feeling his blissful moans reverberate through my whole body. I’ve never felt closer to him. Close enough to smell his sweat, feel his hair tickle my face. His demon horns are crooked now. His self-control, ancient history.
“Fuck, Arden… Where the fuck did you learn that?” he groans. “Maybe you’re not such a good boy as I thought.”
I just smile, pressing my lips to the back of his sweaty neck as he writhes against me.
“Go on, he’s ready,” the highwayman urges. His eyes burn with desire, but he still hasn’t made a move to touch us.
I take a deep breath and inch the very tip of my cock, slick with lube and my own precum, inside Rick’s entrance. Measure his pleasure in his moans and jagged breaths. Sensation spirals through me from his heat, his tightness. He’s so receptive, trembling and pressing back on me like he wants to forge us together, and I never expected this to feel like…this. So real. There’s no trace of teasing or dares or joking from him now. He’s letting me feel his sincerity with every gasped breath. I fill him up so slowly, until he’s taken all of me. Kiss the back of his neck, tasing salty sweat.
“Harder,” the highwayman says, “he can take it.”
Rick moans agreement, a garbled sound of pleading.
Sure he’s okay, I finally let myself go. Grab his demon horns and start to take him, rough now, driving his palms down into the carpet and his breath to a ragged scorch in his chest. He groans, pleading with me for more. I reach for his pulsating dick.
“Hold him back,” whispers the highwayman, full of cruel glee.
I squeeze his cock, bringing him back from the edge.
“Please,” Rick whimpers. He makes no attempt to bring himself relief. “Please.”
“Should we let him?” the highwayman says. “I’ll flip a coin.”
He takes a huge olde-timey coin from his pocket.
“Heads,” Rick gasps.
“Tails,” the highwayman says with a flash of a grin.
Rick shudders under me, tasting defeat. But he doesn’t argue with the verdict. I pound into him, so close to the edge. I don’t want it to be just me. So far we’ve been spellbound by the highwayman, the electric charge of his control thrumming between us. But now I decide to defy him. I grasp Rick’s cock and a few strokes bring him, surprised and grateful, to release. His dick convulses in my hand then his whole body follows, gasping and shuddering under me and all around me. I’m next, coming deep inside him as I feel his internal muscles tighten. The pleasure is so great I collapse on top of him. Both of us are speechless, gasping for breath. For a few seconds my vision blacks out.
**
I look up, blinking stupidly, no idea how much time has passed. The room is dark even when I open my eyes. Only a faint glow of moonlight from the window illuminates the outlines of furniture. The grate is dead and cold and empty, no sign of ashes, much less a fire. There’s no oil lap. No highwayman.
“Rick,” I whisper.
I ease out of him, shake his shoulder. He’s still crouched under me and seems even more discombobulated than me, shivering and looking around in confusion.
“Did I hurt you?” I ask anxiously.
“No, no… I just… I never came that hard before.”
“Me either. Where did the highwayman go? And the fire?”
