Page 15 of A Subtle Scar
“His mouth is mine,” I hissed.
“I saw him first,” Ronny said.
We both followed the human without actually breaking into a run. He had very long legs. I was seconds away from teleporting, but then I didn’t want to frighten the human. I was well aware some could find it creepy to be pursued by teleportation, and so I avoided it where possible.
We caught up to the human when he opened a guest room door on the second floor. Before he could vanish inside, he stopped, turned, and looked at us, almost as if he’d known we’d been there. Ronny was still right next to me, his silly blouse a crass contrast to my stylish shirt.
“Chandler,” Ronny said before I could say anything. Asshole.
Luckily, the Dragon Mother seemed to have favored me when she gave me the human’s first name. “Vincent,” I said, taking pains to add a low vibrato to my voice.
It took the human a second to smile, though his eyes remained hard. “I prefer Chandler. You two are also in one of the guest rooms up here, are you? Don’t worry about getting loud, I brought ear plugs.” He looked from Ronny to me. “You look sexy together. Have a sleepless night.”
The door shut with a click, and with that, the human we had come here to get had…dismissed us. Both of us. Utterly and totally dismissed us.
“What the fuck just happened?” Ronny asked.
“Beats me.”
Ronny looked at me. “He…he’s human. He can’t be prophetic or anything like that. You don’t think…you don’t think he…knows?”
My head whipped around to Ronny. “You mean about the thing—the things—we never ever talk about like we agreed the morning after the last time and the time before that, and all the other times? The things you are talking about right fucking now?”
Ronny shrugged. “Well, you’re talking about it too. At least I didn’t speak in monologue.”
“I am responding to you bringing it up, Ronny, which you are not supposed to do. We agreed. And pointing out your failure to stick to said agreement requires more than one sentence’s worth ofwhy the fuck.”
The hallway between us fell silent. Back at the party, someone was cumming, loudly, and the pleasure-laden scream carried our way.
Ronny cleared his throat. “You know, it is conceivable. That the thing two people did once—the things, that is—can be done again. Only to then never be spoken of again.”
I checked my phone. I had several apps on there that usually got me immediate sexual relief if I needed it, but right now, it was more for show.
Ronny frowned at my screen. I said, “I told Trony I would be spending the night. How about you?”
“I don’t teleport, so yes. And I wanted to go see the ocean in the morning. I’m down the hall.” He pointed.
“I’m that way.” I pointed the other way.
“If you went into your room, and I went into my room, no one would know if you teleported to the kitchen, let’s say. Or elsewhere.”
“They really wouldn’t,” I said and turned to head into my room. “I’m going to bed now. See you in the morning. I might teleport later in the night. To the kitchen, say. Or elsewhere.”
“Good night, Hermes. I expect I’ll fall into bed within the next fifteen minutes.”
Ronny’s light footfalls fell away behind me, and I was…looking forward. To the thing we would not speak about after we’d done it.
I pulled Ronny’s hair as I fucked into him. He yowled like a wildcat.
“Stop that shit, you ass,” he said between gasps. He was on his hands and knees in his bed, the sheets rumpled beneath him. We had kept the lights off in the room, but both of us could see in the dark, not that we were interested in the almost sterile white and pale gold interior of the guest room or our clothing scattered all over the floor.
“I like pulling your hair, Ronny.” I slammed into him particularly hard, and he whined, tossing his head back at the same time, a movement I emphasized by pulling his hair again.
“You’re just mad—that I—managed to go first,” the little prick said.
My hole clenched at his words. I was still slick back there from his sex magic and his cum, but I told myself I’d allowed him to end up on top of me. When we’d wrestled for it. But the truth was that Ronny was about my height, maybe two fingers shorter, looked thinner and more delicate than I, but once you took his clothes off, it was all lean muscle and a fucking martial artist’s speed. And ruthlessness. He was vicious in the sheets.
“It’s not about who gets the first fuck,” I said, then followed that up with two hard thrusts. “It’s about who gets the last.”
