[Siren Classic ManLove: Erotic Romance, Alternative, Contemporary, MM, HEA]
Prior to meeting Nikolas Vice, a privileged yet neglected teen wasting his sporting potential, Jayden Roberts had only one thing on his mind - putting a bullet through it.
After being saved from his abusive father by the jock, Jay is adopted into the affluent Vice household. Fast forward to adulthood, his gift of painting has been nurtured, he’s spread his wings and he is set for Harvard.
The problem? He is dangerously infatuated with his saviour and best friend Nik, who has more issues than side hoes. Nik’s parents’ disinterest in him fuels his partying lifestyle and obvious sex addiction.
After one night of drunken antics, Jay gets caught up in the sexual cyclone that is Nik. What ensues is a passionate, lustful and quickly escalating connection that Jay knows is toxic and yet…. he’s hooked to the point of no return.
‘How about you take that gun out of your mouth and replace it with my tongue? If one kiss from me doesn’t solve all your problems, then you may as well kill us both ‘cause I have a reputation to uphold.’
The sudden strange voice startled me so much that I was launched out of my hysterically distraught state and instead thrust into one of complete and utter confusion. I pulled the barrel of the pistol from my mouth, scuffling back on the dirty floor of the cabin. I hit the handle on the side of my lantern, making it threaten to fall. Quickly I grabbed at the light with my free hand to steady it. Looking up, I saw that there was a guy standing in the doorway, his arms folded, a confident, somewhat obnoxious look on his extremely handsome face.
He spoke again. ‘Not that I’ve kissed a guy before, but I’m sure it’s pretty much the same.’
Despite the depths of horrors my mind had delved to in those past few hours to ready myself for death, I felt my breath was stolen by how utterly attractive the intruder was. However, I refused to let my words sound bothered as they sprayed from my lips.
‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’ I managed as the intruder walked further into the light, scratching his head through his shaggy black hair.
‘I would personally think, given the situation, that you are the one with the problem. After all, you are the one that wanted to redecorate these walls with your brains. But since you have asked, I was severely neglected as a child, and now to compensate for my loneliness, I try to find myself in other people. So, I have formed a sex addiction,’ he said in a blasé yet husky tone. ‘You?’
I honestly wasn’t sure if I’d actually gone through with my plan and ended up in hell, but if that was the case, why were the demons so beautiful? And if by some mistake I had made it to heaven, why were the angels so troubled? I tried to make sense of what was actually happening. Here I was minding my own business trying to have a quick death, and some teenager with a severe emotional disorder was now questioning me. Somehow as strange as it was, I felt compelled to answer the mysterious being.
Wiping some tears from my cheeks, I croaked a reply. ‘My Dad beats me every single day…’
‘That’s lucky. My Dad never cared enough to beat me.’ The stranger laughed and moved to squat down next to me.
I shuffled away again, my back hitting the cabin wall.
I was shocked even more so than before and baffled by the complete lack of empathy and social skills of the guy, but suddenly everything clicked and the stranger didn’t seem so strange. The penny dropped as I looked to the side, to the wall. Over that last six months or so after I had found the old hut (possibly an old woodshed) in the middle of the forest, it had been my place of peace. I had taken refuge there in the hard times, which was often.
Being an artist, I had chosen to take to the walls with my talent, using paint in my spare time to decorate the inside of the small structure. Over many hours, I had painted some scenery, a jaybird, and had only stopped painting when I had realised I was not the only one that found the location of the cabin a comfort.
Funnily enough I hadn’t seen anyone and had dreaded running into another person, but I knew of their existence because of the insufferable red spray paint that had been released near my paintings. Bet you could imagine my shock when I had visited the cabin one day to see that my art had actually been defaced. For example, near the jaybird was written… “Nice pigeon.”
I had first thought it was some stupid kids and was embarrassed and angered by the notion. I didn’t go back for a while. The last thing I needed was to be bullied by some silly individuals that probably used the hideout for some obscene things. But there was something about the spot that drew me in. It was the one place of solace for me, so alas I had returned again and again. One day I had felt deeply depressed, yet poetic and etched with a pencil a message on the floor, in no way with the hope of reply, unless God wished to. I kind of just forgot myself for a minute and had written in grey lead near the edge of the wall… “Should I end it all?” A genuine question I posed to myself on a regular basis.
On my return I found that the vandal had indeed seen this small detail and, with a red crayon this time, had written an inspiring message back. “Probably.”
‘I want to suck your cock,’ he breathed down my neck, as he trailed kisses against my collarbone. I took a shuddering breath in at the prospect. I looked to the ceiling and he continued to kiss me, down between my pecks, stopping at one of my nipples to run his tongue over it. It peaked in reaction, and only then did I realise how sensitive they were. The thing about Vice was that he always got what he wanted, and the promise of that conclusion clouded my head with so much lust I was giddy.
The way his large hand ran up my chest and his shoulder muscles flexed as his kisses descended was so sexy, and I wanted to etch that into my mind forever. He toyed with me with small nips, licks, and kisses, trailing their way down my squirming torso, and his shaggy hair followed the same track as he sunk lower. I leant up on my elbows and watched with bated breath as he looked at me from down there, his eyes shining wickedly as he undid my fly, yanking my jeans and briefs down in one go. My cock sprung up in front of him. I was exposed and nervous. The way he looked at that part of me, almost like he was salivating, was nearly too much.
He then gripped the bottom of my shaft as I breathed in sharply. My mind was clear but for the words I was holding back. They were a plea because the teasing was too much, but he wanted to take things painstakingly slow, and deep down, I guess I did appreciate that. He then moved his face forward, and I shivered, feeling his hot breath on my cock. I watched him as he moved to my hip bones, kissing and then sucking on each. Focusing on one spot in particular, drawing on it as I groaned. He left a deep red lust bite in the secretive place, marking me not just emotionally but physically.
He stroked me slowly as he did so, and I couldn’t bear it anymore. Lying back, I felt my pelvis involuntarily thrust forward, and I sat up again.
‘Vice,’ I begged, my face scarlet. I was still overwhelmed by the situation; it was far beyond me.
He was far beyond me.
He was so relaxed and somehow in his element, and I felt like the obviously inexperienced one. He shot me a sexy smile, like he had achieved what he wanted. He then looked at me with those handsome, lust-filled eyes of his and moved towards the head of my cock. Not taking those piercing blues off me, he opened his mouth, and seductively glided his tongue over my knob, collecting the precum weeping from it. God, he knew how to put on a show. My body reacted violently, and I let out a moan as the most intense feeling of pleasure washed over me. I felt my body buckle and my back hit the mattress. I was squirming with pleasure and trying to watch him at the same time. He then did something without hesitation, which to me was a one-way ticket to a heart attack.
He swirled his tongue around my cock once before completely plunging my entire length into his mouth and down his hot, wet throat. He seemed to smirk at my reaction, like he lived and breathed my responses, making me feel even more like I was living a fantasy. He was so focused on my ecstasy. It was absurdly sexy. I literally rose my butt up off the bed and cried out his name, actually convinced he was a master of everything that he had ever tried. I was beside myself, as he worked my cock like something out of hardcore porn. He clutched at my waist, bringing me towards him as he relaxed his throat and absolutely tormented me with his mouth. Taking me all in, then pulling away to swirl his tongue around the head of my cock, before plunging my length again straight down his hot, tight throat.
The other part that was driving me wild, other than the utmost pleasure I’d ever experienced, was the lust in the room. I was moaning out his name, and it reverberated around us in the place covered in my old drawings and his red paint remarks. It rocked me on a soul-shaking level. I could hear him groaning in appreciation, the vibration of his throat adding to the sensation. It was like he was absolutely lapping up the moment too. He sucked my cock like he craved it, rubbing himself on the bed as he did so.
I literally couldn’t stand the roaring pleasure anymore, and I warned him in an almost incoherent sentence. ‘I’m g-going…to cum…’
I should have known he was going to absolutely suck me dry.