Either he had gone blind, or he was dead and the afterlife was completely white and empty, if there was an afterlife for beings like him. Killa blinked and acknowledged that maybe he wasn’t dead. No way with the pain he was in. He didn’t even flinch, his body hard and carved in wars across time. He was used to pain—not quite at this level, granted, but then again he couldn’t remember the last time he had been in a fight with one of his Original brothers. Actually he did, and that particular brother was approaching the infirmary room he could now see he was in. He preferred to grunt instead of whining like a girl as he wanted to. Fucking hell, he was tied to the fucking bed. Humiliating, really. Killa was six foot six and over two hundred pounds of hard muscles and mean attitude. He wasn’t some weak kitty that one could restrain this easily, except today he was. To his surprise, when he shifted he heard somebody whimper nearby. His eyes flew open, searching for the source of that sound. He hadn’t felt any threat with him in the room. When he saw the slender, pale man in the bed next to him, he was not surprised that his senses hadn’t warned him. The redhead looked ready to jump off the bed and run screaming, a reaction Killa was most annoyed with as the smaller man looked quite juicy and just his type, with those big, gullible, golden eyes and a generous mouth Killa was already imagining wrapped around his dick. And the man was not fragile either, he could handle some rough playing, and all that Killa wanted to do to him.
“If your dick works that well, then I don’t have anything to worry about.”
Killa swore at K’Anael, hating to be taken by surprise. He grunted and shrugged at the tent in the sheet covering him. What could he say? He had always been quite hyperactive, and his favorite activity from the time he had learnt how to use his dick well was, of course, fucking.
“The wolf is not yours to play with. He’s not well enough to run away either, so don’t give him any of your bullshit.”
Yep, K’Anael was not falling for his wannabe innocent expression, and Killa dropped it quick. He was barely maintaining a straight face. His way of coping with all the shit thrown in his face was to laugh at anything thrown his way, but right now he just couldn’t keep the pretense up.
“I’m sorry, Kana. I always wanted to say that. We didn’t have any choice. You should have seen what he was planning to do. We had to…”
“Stop. Just stop. I know. I fucking know already! I had two millennia to think about this and I knew it then, I know it now. A’Rael played you all and you did the best you could. I knew he wanted Adair dead. Do you think I could fault you for trying to protect Adair in the only way you could, by making it faster and painless? I was grieving, Killa. I’m sorry for all that I said, I was just…lost, I think. Still am, somewhat.”
Whoa. Okay. Okay. No, he didn’t know how to react to this. K’Anael didn’t have that problem and carefully embraced him again. When he felt the hot tears burning his neck, Killa gasped in astonishment. His friend never cried. Well, almost never. He tried to awkwardly pat him on his back, and his gesture had a very surprising effect on the man drowning him in tears. K’Anael snickered and started to laugh deeply and loudly.
“Don’t break something trying to do the compassionate routine. You never were one to bother with other people’s sensibilities and moments of weakness. I doubt that has changed. “
“That’s not true! I’m a very caring man! I always am careful to leave everybody smiling!”
“That would be you. One permanently in heat, at that.”
“You have that right! And it’s very much enjoyable like that too!”
They smiled at each other, and K’Anael jumped him again, making him grunt in pain at the force he was holding him with in his embrace. Fortunately he released Killa quickly, untied his bounds, and then even faster wiped the traces of his turbulent emotions from his cheeks.
“The man you brought with you. Your mate? Another conquest?”
The wolf in the bed next to them let a small whine escape him before he turned his back at them and curled in a small ball. Weird guy, Killa thought. Maybe it was better that he seemed afraid of Killa, that way Killa would abstain from trying too hard to get in his pants. Maybe.
“Mallick? God no! The man annoys me to death. And have you seen how fragile-looking he is? I always have the impression I’m gonna break him in half if I breathe too harshly in his direction.”
“He tried his mumbo jumbo on me. I laughed my ass off, Killa. He wanted me to believe he’s your mate and he needed to stay by your side.”
Killa felt a small twinge of longing. Not for Mallick, but for the thought of having his mate next to him, caring for his wounds. He was a player, yes, but what most of the people that knew him failed to observe was that it was a necessity for him, not a preference. He would go crazy without any contact with another being, any connection. As it was, at his age, he had already lost hope of ever finding his mate, and that thought drove him closer to insanity with each passing day.
Keen whimpered, fucking whimpered, when Killa slowly but ruthlessly separated their bodies. No! He didn’t want to think, he wanted…Oh. Oh! The calloused, rough hand quickly got rid of his pajama pants and caught his stiff member in a relentless grip, making his panic and nervousness scatter. Killa held him just right, firm and tight, almost overly so, with the rough, dry patches on that tanned hand massaging exactly the right places and making Keen want to tear up in pleasure like his cock was currently doing. Killa continued to torture him for a couple of minutes, merciless not giving him a respite or letting him get even a slight measure of his control back. Keen wanted to give back, to make his mate as crazy in lust as he was. He didn’t much like feeling this vulnerable and powerless, it was a sensation he was much too accustomed to. But Killa continued the sweet torture with sharp twists on the shining wet tip of his cock, his other hand trailing down his flexing abdomen to his tight balls and his untouched taint. That talented mouth was doing something to his neck, pulling slightly on the sensitive skin under his ear, pulls he could feel like they were actual sucks on his dick.
This was getting out of hand to fast for Keen, and his head was spinning with all that was happening. His labored breath came in short gasps, part arousal and part panic. Killa didn’t mind him, and Keen was glad his mate didn’t notice what a pussy he was exactly in the moment of their mating. He wanted this. He was so lucky to be wanted, to have a mate, and one as powerful and handsome as Killa.
A hot mouth covered his cock and squeezed slightly, and he almost bolted, the pleasure too much. He was leaking and convulsing, and before he knew it, his dick was wet, a pool of pre-cum on his stomach. Keen would have thought he had come already if not for the still-hard-as-steel rod between his legs being continuously worked by a skilled tongue and tortured with the moist cavern sucking on him. So then what was wrong? Nothing, absolutely nothing. That firm internal reassurance got tested when he was turned unceremoniously on his belly, his ass pulled up and his cheeks spread wide open. The tongue pushing at his tight ring felt like nothing had before, and Keen keened and whimpered while thrashing on the white hospital sheets. Up and down, he rubbed his stiff dick on the sheet and pushed into that marvelous sensation teasing his bottom and finally his quivering hole. It was…it was so different from what he had imagined his mating would be. Hot, fiery and violent, the sensations coursing through him were giving him vertigo, and he grabbed at the sheet, trying to anchor his body and mind in the incredible reality that he was experiencing.
“That’s it, sugar. Fuck yourself on my tongue.”
The wet wiggling returned and Keen moaned, doing exactly what his mate had demanded. He was so lost in the feeling that he didn’t even blush or try to shy away in embarrassment. There was none. It was empowering to feel this free and ruled by only his basic desires. It was liberating at last.
Killa took it a step further and pushed a thick digit in, only the tip first, before sinking deep in the tight, silky heaven begging for his cock. One finger quickly became two, Killa too impatient for waiting to get what he wanted. He wanted now to feel the gorgeous man wrapped around his dick. It was impossible to prolong this sweet torture for much longer. He felt a twinge of something unfamiliar when he looked down at the debauched slim body underneath his drafting one, seeing the tremors that crossed under that creamy stretch of milky, pale skin. He shrugged after a moment. He wasn’t one to deny his urges and desires. It was not in his nature, and to do so would only agitate his inner animal spirit. The point in these meaningless types of hookups was to calm that animal energy that coursed through him.
So what was he doing here? Not waiting or getting introspective when he had his dick in his hand and pointed to a willing and ready hole, that’s what.
The first push encountered more resistance than Killa expected, and he hesitated. He grabbed the pearly cheeks and pulled them apart to better expose the winking ring that promised him dark pleasures. His cock was hard and leaking copiously, and he had a moment of regret at not telling the guy to suck his dick first. Now it was all lubed, and after all ass play was better than oral play, so Killa just shrugged again. Maybe later if he was still in the mood. The tip was bulbous and red, and Killa watched as the ring slowly stretched under the unrelenting pressure he was applying. He took one of his hands and caressed that taunt, bowing back arching away from him now.
“Easy now, you can take me. You will take me. You’ll feel me pounding deep inside your ass, stretching you further than you’ve ever been, and it’ll feel fantastic. That I promise you, satisfaction guaranteed.”
Just as he massaged a slight knot of tension on that gorgeous back, he felt his cock pop inside the first ring, and he stopped to gather his nonexistent patience.