Coal to Diamonds (8 page)

Lost in concentration and pleasure as he was, Cole didn’t notice Bobby standing beside him until the larger man cradled his chin. He turned Cole’s face toward his erection. It popped out between the curtains of his white linen shirttails, looking dark against the light fabric. His tan trousers and blue-striped shorts bunched around his ankles. Bobby’s thick cock bounced with each beat of his heart. Inundated with blood, the veins twined over it like exposed roots. Bobby held it at the base with his other hand, steadying it as he guided it toward Cole’s lips. Cole opened his mouth and sucked hard on the tip. He felt for Cam’s waist, and he steadied himself, creating the tightest vacuum he could. Bobby moved his hand from Cole’s face to the ponytail dangling at the nape of his neck and wrapped it around his knuckles. Cole relaxed his neck and let Bobby pull his head forward. He inhaled the earthy scent of Bobby’s groin, working his tongue in furious circles beneath Bobby’s head.

“Come on, Cole. Take it all. I know you can.”

Since he was still focused on pleasuring Cam, Cole let the tension fall from his shoulders and neck. Bobby supported the back of his head, and Cole allowed himself to be manipulated back and forth. He stretched his mouth wide and opened his throat. Cole knew that Bobby would never be overly rough with him, so he trusted his friend to lead the sexual waltz they engaged in. The three of them knew each other so well that every personal kink and subtlety of preference could be exploited to the fullest. When they were together, tiny, expert touches made magic. Like now, when the graze of Cole’s top teeth made Bobby’s cock twitch. What had made them think they needed this shadowy fourth? How had Thorn ensnared each of them so easily, when they already had everything?

Cole relaxed his throat to take Bobby’s entire length, enjoying the salt taste and velvety texture of his skin. Soon his cock disappeared between Cole’s lips completely. Cole’s nose caught the stream of sweat that ran down Bobby’s torso as Bobby undulated his hips. Perspiration seeped beyond the tight seal of his mouth.

Cole pretended they were in the cabin, basking in the light of the fire. He imagined Cam crossing his wrists in front of his face and resting his cheek on his hands, instead of in Thorn’s lap. Together they fine-tuned their movements, so that when Bobby pressed into Cole’s throat, Cole pressed into Cam. They moved with and against each other instinctively, as they always did. Only Thorn’s jarring tugs of Cam’s hair clashed against the lilting melody they created. Thorn didn’t belong; why hadn’t they seen it? He was like some foreign beetle introduced into their native forest. Too late, they’d discovered he would fatten himself by devouring their trees.

Cole’s orgasm built, making his balls ache, but he bit it back. He’d hold it until Cam and Bobby came. His body, like his magic, became an instrument of his will. It would be him who drew the sacred essences forth from his friends. When the powerful Tantric energy exploded from them, he, and not Thorn, would absorb it. The time approached when Cole would need any extra power he could gather. Thorn would not be permitted to claim any more of Cam or Bobby. Luckily for them all, Bobby’s cock stopped their names from falling like autumn leaves from Cole’s entranced tongue. In his mind, though, he chanted them again and again.

Bobby.

Cam.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

It was close now. Their bodies moved like a single being, a graceful serpent whose body rippled through the clouds. Curves and arcs of energy traveled through them. The light of their auras formed a complete spectrum. Bobby’s wheat yellow bled to crimson around Cole’s head and shoulders. At Cole’s waist, it shifted to a lightning blue until it met Cam and bloomed green. At the head of the procession, Thorn’s black light drew the colors in like a hole in space. Chromatic snippets and streamers disappeared into the shadows surrounding him. The phenomenon bothered Cole, though he didn’t fully comprehend its significance. Later he’d inquire what Cam had seen. Best for now, he thought, to stop the flow.

Saliva dribbled down his chin, and Cole scooped some up. As his cock pulsed against Cam’s gland in short, rapid bursts, he took Cam’s cock into his freshly slicked hand. Instead of stroking it, Cole contracted his fist, rhythmically squeezing in time with his thrusts. Above his hand, he felt Cam’s belly fluttering as he inhaled in irregular little puffs. As Cole knew he would, Cam came a minute later, spraying the elaborate pillows with his seed.

After Cam’s orgasm, Cole stopped thrusting. But Bobby’s stabs still pushed Cole against Cam. Bobby tugged against Cole’s ponytail, knowing Cole liked a little coarseness. Cole craned his neck, turning his face up so that he could see Bobby regarding him. Bobby’s eyes were chocolate-colored slits on his flushed face. Cole resented the loss of the sweet, dirty things Bobby would say if they’d been alone. He bit his lower lip and took another step toward Cole. Plunging so deep into Cole’s throat his pelvis squashed Cole’s nose, Bobby shuddered from his toes to the tip of his cock. Cole quickly swallowed the torrent of semen that followed.

Finally it was his turn. Bobby helped Cole along by kneeling behind him, yanking his head back, and biting into the muscle that stretched from his collarbone to his ear. He pinched Cole’s nipple with his other hand. Still spasming from his orgasm, Cam’s ass contracted around Cole’s cock. The feeling of being pressed between their bodies, the unique fragrances of their skin and sex engulfing him, made Cole’s flesh burn. He’d satisfied them, stored the strength they offered. Him. Cole. Not Thorn. He was coming. He was going to scream and release the power he’d soaked up, the power he desperately needed. Gods, he couldn’t stop himself. He’d scream their names until he lost his voice.

Bobby sensed the threat. His power flowed steadily, like the growth of a tree, and Cam’s sprinkled like a rain shower. Cole’s magic, the three of them knew, came in short bursts, like heat lightning. If he let go of it now, they had no hope of defeating Thorn. Bobby forced the web of his hand, between his thumb and finger, between Cole’s teeth.

Coming harder than he ever had, Cole bit and drew blood from Bobby’s skin. Rust flavor filled his mouth. He thrashed and yelled like a gagged, condemned prisoner as what felt like a gallon of come emptied into Cam. Throwing his head back, he crashed against the sturdy bone of Bobby’s shoulder until his vision went fuzzy. He held onto Cam’s cheeks as if they were the only thing anchoring him to the physical world, keeping him from plummeting into the abyss. Cole’s body seized from sensory and magical overload. But he held the energy balled in the hollow place between his ribs and hips.

Through it all, Thorn had looked on with disinterest, like he was watching someone washing dishes and not having a transformative, religious experience. Even Cam’s expert mouth hadn’t been able to coax an orgasm from Thorn. The man possessed an almost mystical ability to prolong the act of love. He’d left each of them hurting on many occasions.

Sighing, Thorn said, “I’m bored of this. Stop, Cameron.” He let loose of the blond hair, and Cam bolted toward his friends like a wild animal released from a cage.

“Am I alone in thinking,” he continued, “that the dynamic between the four of us has changed?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Cole responded. “Whatever we are, we can’t read your mind. If you want something, why don’t you just—”

“What I want,” Thorn said, loud enough to drown Cole’s voice, “is for this to be how it was.”

Cole couldn’t believe the irony. The past had been what he’d longed for and tried to recreate those years he’d been alone.

“You’re the one who changed,” Cole dared to say. “We had fun in the beginning. Then you started demanding more and more from us. More time. More attention. More obedience.”

“It’s my right as your teacher!”

“You threatened us,” Cole continued. “Scared us. Hurt us. We were all equal in the beginning. We were just playing at it—”

“What if we don’t want to be your students anymore?” Cam said quietly.

Thorn sat up and snarled. The whites of his eyes showed around the black centers, making him look dangerous and deranged. “You think you’re so special? You think
you
did
me
a favor? You should thank your gods that I shared my knowledge with you. You should be grateful I let you in my presence, you filthy little piece of street trash!”

“That’s enough!” Bobby slapped the floor and the crack resounded, Cole thought, like wood split by lightning. In his anger, Bobby didn’t seem to have noticed that Thorn knew Cam had been a prostitute without ever being told.

“Of course we want you to teach us,” Cole said quickly. They had to keep up the charade. His words calmed Thorn, who leaned back into his pillowy nest. His erection pointed up, like a knife held ready for attack. Cole crept forward and perched on his hands and knees over Thorn’s reclining body. Hoping to distract him, he kissed Thorn, then wrapped his fingers around his cock and stroked him. “I want everything you’re offering, Darius.”

Thorn yielded to Cole’s caresses. He pushed his tongue playfully against Cole’s, and traced the perimeter of the bite Bobby had made with his nails. Cole’s lids drooped. He lost himself in the pleasure of the moment. He’d loved this man, or at least lusted after him. Their nights in the study, the dining room, or the fenced-in yard had been amazing, whether he’d been alone with Thorn or sharing him with Bobby and Cam. Thorn drew out the potential in their bodies and souls, brought them nearer to their god-forms. If it could be like that again—

Cole toppled on his side as Thorn shoved him off. “Not you,” he panted, breathless from Cole’s ministrations. “I want Robert. And I want the two of you to watch.”

Bobby, seldom skittish, looked like a deer caught in headlights. But he bravely came forward. “Tell me,” he said.

“Take off your clothes. On your back, Robert. And open your legs.”

Bobby stripped shyly, brought his heels to his ass, and sunk backward.

“I want to see more. Pull them up,” Thorn said, and Bobby complied.

Thorn sat on his heels near Bobby’s ass. He pressed against the insides of Bobby’s knees, so his spine bent upward, exposing his cleft. The candlelight seemed brighter. The flush on Bobby’s cheeks was plain to see. He looked so ashamed, so unlike the proud, bright young man he’d been that Cole bit back a cry. Then, without warning, Thorn spit on Bobby’s flesh and plunged both of his thumbs into Bobby’s puckered anus. He wrapped his long, sharp-nailed fingers around Bobby’s ass cheeks for leverage. He pulled his thumbs apart until a two-inch gap appeared between them, as if he could expose Bobby’s very insides.

“Enjoying the show?” he asked Cole and Cam. Neither could answer. “That’s a nice view, I think. Pretty enough for a picture.”

“Darius, you’re being cruel,” Cam entreated.

Cole inched back toward his clothes as Thorn began to fuck Bobby. His robe swished around him. Bobby didn’t bottom often; when he did it for Cam or Cole, it felt like a special occasion. He took Thorn’s thrusts with hushed grunts. He covered his eyes with his elbow. Just as Cole reached his pants, he saw Thorn’s frozen exterior melting. A film of sweat made his sharp features glow, and his black eyes burned with ravenous lust. He nipped at Bobby’s calf, which now rested on his shoulder.

From his pants pocket, Cole pulled a piece of cream-colored writing paper along with the sigil they’d created. He unfolded the blank page and smoothed the creases quietly. Fortunately, Bobby’s body distracted Thorn. The older man clamped his eyes shut. Cole gauged the shadows. With the chandelier directly overhead, the blackness outlined the forms of Thorn and Bobby tightly. That would not do. Concentrating, Cole magically snuffed the candles on all three tiers of the left side of the rounded light. Damp bodies and sex hid the slight smoky smell. Flat on his back, Bobby cast no shadow now. Thorn’s shade, though, stretched out to the side, falling almost to Cole’s knees. Cole let the paper fall from his hand. It fluttered to the floor, landing just where Thorn’s head blocked the light.

“C
AMERON
, you’re shivering,” Thorn said idly. He lay with Bobby tucked under one arm and Cam under the other. Cole reclined diagonally across the three of them, on his stomach, with his head on Bobby’s shoulder and his legs covering Cam’s crotch.

“You know what I would love?” Cam said sweetly. “That hot drink you make. With the apple cider and rum and the cinnamon stick.”

Cole held his breath, waiting to see if the ploy would work. Thorn’s mood was amiable just now; his aura appeared like a smudged charcoal drawing instead of broken black glass. Also, he relished any kind of nod to his skill, whether in reference to magic, sex, or cooking.

“That sounds good indeed,” Thorn said, ruffling Cole’s eyelashes with his pinky. “Maybe a snack, as well. Cakes and ale, you know?” He chuckled. Cole caught himself loving Thorn just a little. “What do we want? Some shrimp toast? Pâté and crackers?”

“Maybe some of those little Chinese dumplings, with the hot and sour sauce?” Cole suggested, knowing the dish would take some time to prepare.

“I’ll go fix them,” Thorn said. “I love the way that spicy sauce makes your lips swell.” Thorn kissed Cam with genuine affection. Cole rolled to Bobby’s far side so Thorn could get up. As he retied his robe, he said, “After we refresh ourselves, maybe we can do some spell work together. There’s a fat, uppity housewife a few doors down who won’t stop harping on me about joining the church. She wants money for some pitiful mission to Africa and for a summer camp for troubled youth. Clueless! She comes to the house every morning at ten, and I never rise so early. What do you think, boys? Can we shut her up for good?” He left the room laughing.

When Thorn’s footsteps faded on the carpeted stairs, Bobby whispered, “He’s vile.”

“I don’t know,” Cole mused. “There have been a few people I’ve wanted to shut up.”

“Cole!” Cam said, aghast.

“Oh, come on! People in this town have been ridiculing me all my life.” Cole adjusted his voice to mimic the nasally whine of a gossipy woman. “That’s Cole Riley. Nobody knows who his father was. Look at him, he’s so odd. I heard he’s… you know what. With other men! Ooooh!”