Page 15 of Not With the Eyes

Before he had to face the fact he'd just blithely made a note for future plans with Scones, Oberon gripped the sides of his face and plunged into the kiss. He had never struggled with shyness, so if Scones needed him to be the bold one, he was more than happy to keep doing so.

Scones tasted salty and sweet, maybe left over from their meal, maybe just him. His arms were tight around Oberon'swaist, but only for a moment, before they skated up and down his body, fingertips alternately pressing and stroking, a mix of sensations that left Oberon shivering delightedly.

Pulling away, he licked his lips and shoved, sending Scones to land on his back on the bed. Not one to delay the inevitable, Oberon ditched his clothes and then got rid of Scones's, afterward letting him get settled against a mound of pillows before straddling his lap. For all he was a skinny fuck, Scones didn't lack for muscle. He was lean and mean, like a snake, or a bird, predators who moved and behaved quite differently from the more hugely built ones like wildcats and bears. "Anything you particularly love or hate?"

"Don't manhandle my balls. Fuck, you'd be surprised how many people try for a sexy grab and yank."

Oberon winced in sympathy. "I've yet to decide what's worse: people who get overly grabby, or people who think the only way to fuck a cunt is the jackhammer method."

Scones laughed, fitting his hands to Oberon's thighs, fingers digging in just enough to feel the press. "I was probably guilty of that at sixteen. Too much porn."

"Well, so far you seem to have learned your lessons," Oberon said, splaying his own hands across Scones's chest, enjoying the feel of soft, warm skin, the way his muscles moved, throat working as he fought the moans Oberon had provoked. Leaning down, Oberon kissed him again, because as good as he'd been in the car, Scones was infinitely better now, where there was no awkward reaching and twisting to do.

Tearing away from his mouth, Oberon kissed his jaw, then his throat, lingering when that got him a hitched breath, and the hands on his thighs clamped down briefly. He kissed the spot again, then worried it with his teeth, relishing the moan that finally tore free of Scones's throat. "You don't have to smother every noise."

"Habit," Scones said with a short, rough laugh. "Usually it's not a problem."

That was a damning commentary on Scones's previous lovers, but Oberon didn't voice the thought, just took another teasing bite of that spot that seemed to drive Scones wild before finally setting to work on the rest of him.

He really did not understand how someone like Margaux Lachapelle had managed to produce someone like this. While he had zero desire to fuck Scones just to make her angry, he hoped somewhere that chills were running down her spine.

Oberon kissed the crease of Scone's hip before nuzzling his way to the hard cock demanding attention, licking and kissing teasingly, until Scones sank a hand into his hair and yanked. "Do it already, you bloody bastard." Scone's accent had never been so strong, as poncy British bastard as it was possible to get.

"Maybe I prefer to see you suffer."

In the next breath, Oberon was on his back, with absolutely no idea how he'd gotten there, Scones looming over him, pale skin gleaming with sweat, that ridiculous hair tousled, and a gleam in his eye that made it very hard to breathe.

Before Oberon could say anything, there was a hand wrapped around his cock—firmly enough to stroke, but too loose to be satisfying, leaving him aching, desperate. "Do you need a refresher then, love?" Scones asked, and once more Oberon was rendered unable to reply, reduced to some moans of his own as Scones's mouth dropped over his cock and went to work like his life depended on it.

"Fuck me," Oberon said, head pushing back into the pillows, hands flailing for something to grab.

Scones pulled off his cock long enough to say, "That's on the menu, never fear," and with a laugh at Oberon's swearing,went back to work, cheeks hollowing as he sucked, pulling Oberon in deep, until he hit the back of Scone's throat.

Oberon moaned, every thought flying from his head. When had that last happened? He couldn't recall.

Reaching out, he curled a hand into Scones's soft, fiery hair, unable to resist thrusting into his mouth a bit—and more when the grip on his hips encouraged him to do so. Who would have thought he'd find so much delight in fucking Scones's mouth?

As much as he would have liked to drag it out, make the pleasure and anticipation last forever, Scones was simply too damn good at sucking cock. "I'm going—" he broke off as Scones just sucked harder, as though hungry for it, determined to take everything Oberon gave.

Far be it for him to protest or complain.

Pulling off his softening cock, Scones rose up on his knees and wiped his mouth and chin, filthy from come and spit, with the back of one hand. His eyes burned with an intensity that left Oberon breathless and reeling. It was grossly out of place in a hotel room where two people were fucking to burn energy and go back to sleep.

"Can I still fuck you?" he asked, voice rough.

"You had better." Oberon beckoned him close, spreading his thighs. "I guess we should have discussed this sooner, but you've no diseases to worry about with me."

Scones laughed. "I know that much about shifters, and I would have already said if I wasn't good to go." He buried his face in Oberon's throat, pinning his hands to the bed with his own, rutting against him as he sucked and licked and bit at Oberon's skin as though determined to leave a permanent mark.

He drew back with a groan of protest after a few minutes and went to his duffle, pulling out a dark green tube andreturning to the bed with unseemly haste, as though he might die if he didn't get back between Oberon's thighs.

Oberon moaned, grasping at the blankets, as Scones's fingers, slick and warm, steadily worked him open. "That's enough," he said eventually. "I'm neither new nor fragile. Make mefeelit."

Something flashed, hot and bright, in Scones's eyes before he withdrew his fingers, slicked his cock, and slowly pushed into Oberon's body. Fuck. Oberon hadn't felt this stuffed full in a long time. He couldn't wait to try it with a cunt just to see how that felt.

Scones fucked into him steadily, deeply. Oberon could only hold tight, one hand fisted in Scones's hair, the other digging into his back, holding him close thrust after thrust. There was no way he'd come again so soon, but he didn't care, soaked in pleasurable sensation, Scones's panting breaths in his ear, sweaty skin sliding, his thighs aching from being stretched wide and clamped tightly to Scones's body, urging him deeper, faster.

Moments later, Scones sank into him one last time, messily kissing his throat as he came, shuddering hard in Oberon's arms. Once he'd calmed, he pulled out gently with a long groan and rolled over to sprawl, sweaty and chest heaving, next to Oberon. "If you're not able to sleep now, I did something wrong."

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