The Devil's Brew (6 page)

Except perhaps to have the man’s fat cock spearing him into the mattress.

Kane’s Irish blood had to have a drop of Frost Giant in it, because the man was huge, a solid block of muscle and sinew. A soft cover of hair ran up his thighs and calves, leaving an expanse of bare skin over his hips and ass. Another thatch of coarser black hair cradled his penis, thinning out to a delicate trail stretching to his navel. The time he spent working out with his brother Connor showed in his sturdy, muscular frame, although Miki was partially convinced they lifted weights mostly so they could gossip about their parents and plot how they could manipulate their younger siblings to do what they wanted them to do.

“Get on the bed,
mo shearc
.” Kane’s low voice held dark promises, and Miki shivered. “Let me see how much you want me, Mick.”

The lube was already out and on the bed. Giving his lover a wicked grin, Miki grabbed the bottle and popped the lid, catching the dribble bubbling out of the bottle’s opening. Closing the lube with a snap, he kneeled down on the bed, keeping his back mostly to Kane. His knee argued a bit at the position, but Miki ignored it. Valentine’s Day came once a year, and he was going to make the most of it.

Even if he still needed CliffsNotes to get the damned holiday right.

Arching his back, Miki reached around and slid his lubed fingers down the crack of his ass. He fell forward a bit but caught himself with his other hand, steadying himself on the bed with his palm and spreading his knees. Tilting his ass up, his cheeks parted slightly, ensuring Kane a good view.

He knew he’d gotten to Kane once he slid his fingers into his opening because he could hear the man growl from across the room.

His fingers weren’t going to be enough. Miki got two in and twisted them apart, feeling the burn cresting up from his hole and into the base of his spine. His cock was more than interested in the sensations ticking Miki’s nerves, thickening up and smearing damp pearls on Miki’s belly.

Kane was there before Miki could tease him with another withdrawal. Miki’s fingers were crushed against the soft tissue of his rim when Kane’s joined his, and he mewled at being stretched so wide. There wasn’t enough lube or perhaps too much—he couldn’t tell which—just that he needed more of something.

“Do you like that, Miki love?” Kane bent over and whispered hot into Miki’s ear. “Do you like the feel of me with you in there?”

Miki could only whimper because Kane’s fingers dove in deeper, the flat of the man’s palm curved up into his cleft. He couldn’t move his hand—hell, he couldn’t move any part of his body even if he wanted to. Kane kept him pinned in place, working him carefully apart, and just when Miki didn’t think he could take any more, Kane pulled free, taking Miki’s fingers with him and leaving Miki gasping from the emptiness inside of him.

“Put your hands on the bed, love,” Kane rumbled. “And hold on, Mick, because I want you to be feeling this one days from now.”

The air was fragrant with musk and beeswax, a combination Miki’d never imagined he’d equate with sex. Now he didn’t think he’d be able to walk past a candle without thinking of the heft of Kane’s fingers in him. Hunched over, Miki grunted in surprise when Kane dripped a thread of cold lube down his ass crack and smeared it around his hole. Then the blunt end of Kane’s cock tapped at his rim, playing at the slickened opening.

“Put it in me, Kane,” Miki heard himself beg. “Fucking hell.”

A few years ago, if someone dared to suggest he’d be begging a man to fuck him, Miki would have told the guy to go to hell. Blow jobs were one thing, but splayed out on a bed, vulnerable and open, was not a position Miki St. John had any intention of putting himself in. To give himself over to another man—knowingly opening his ass so another could take him—was beyond belief. Now Vega and Shing were a distant murmuring—more about the domination and humiliation of his spirit than sex. With Kane, it was all different.

With Kane—sex wasn’t just about their bodies. It was about them touching and sharing pleasure. Of murmuring stupid things in the shadows and laughing when they splattered one another with their release.

More importantly, it was about lying together in bed, nose to nose, and whispering about how much they loved one another and how fucking thankful they were to have each other.

The whispering, however, could wait. Now Miki just wanted Kane to fuck him until he couldn’t hold himself up anymore.

And from the stab of Kane’s cock at his hole, Miki guessed his lover had the same kind of thing in mind.

He rolled his shoulders, biting his lip when a drop of freezing lube rolled over his balls. The nip of cold distracted him, a moment where he didn’t think about Kane’s intrusion. Then suddenly everything else in the world faded when Kane’s hot length pushed into him.

“Fuuuuuck….” Miki ground the word out, breathless through the burn.

Kane seated himself quickly, gripping Miki’s hips. Unable to hold himself up, Miki fell forward, his shoulders slamming into the bed. The tumble cocked his ass up, parting his crack even farther, and Kane took advantage of the ease, pushing in even more.

He tried to grab at the sheets, but they slid about the bed, nearly as slick as his own ass. Snagging a corner of the duvet, Miki worked his fingers into its softness just as Kane began to move back, sliding his cock out nearly past Miki’s rim.

“Do you want this, love?” Kane rolled his hips, edging his cock around Miki’s hole. If anything, the motion strained Miki’s rim, his skin tight along Kane’s ridged head. The man’s hands roamed up from his hips and over Miki’s back, exploring every taut muscle. “Just tell me you want me, Mick, and I’ll go right back in.”

“Not a radio show, Kane. Less talk. More fucking.” He growled when his lover laughed at him. “
Still
not with the fucking.”

“God, I love you, Mick.” The man leaned over, kissing between Miki’s shoulder blades.

There was no more talking. Nothing that formed actual words, although Miki might have said fuck a few times. Kane began his descent into Miki’s body, and Miki lost everything he’d had on his mind.

Other than to snap his hips back onto Kane’s cock as often and as hard as he could.

There definitely wasn’t enough lube. Either that or his body said fuck it and sloughed it away, because Miki felt every centimeter of Kane’s stretch. The first draw back was nothing compared to the plunge. Then the action picked up, and Miki began to fly.

He had to close his eyes, immersing himself in the experience. The tug of Kane’s fingers in his hair and the bruising grip of the man’s other hand on the small of his back as Kane held him in place. His mind rippled with the contrasting sensations of his lover’s body on and in him, from the crinkle of Kane’s hair against the curve of his ass to the scrape of his cop’s blunt nails over his spine. The scorching heat of his skin being raked echoed the sear of Kane’s cock driving into him, and Miki cried out, needing more.

Shoving himself back on Kane’s thrusts only made Miki’s crazier. He couldn’t seem to get Kane in as deep as he wanted—as he needed. His throat closed up, aching with a desire he didn’t have a name for, until Kane tugged his head back and Miki was forced to arch his neck.

He thirsted. He needed to have something of Kane on his tongue, and the mewling, anguished cry of need he let out must have made some kind of sense, because Kane released his hair. The stinging of his pulled scalp echoed over his head, but Miki didn’t have time to dwell on it, not with the thrust of Kane’s fingers into his mouth.

That
was what he needed. To be fucked through the mouth as much as Kane hammered at his ass. He pulled Kane in as far as he could, wishing he could fit the man’s hand down his throat, but he had to be content with mouthing his fingers and running his tongue over the rough ridges of his prints. He felt Kane’s entire life in his mouth, from the calluses on his thumb and forefinger from running tools over a piece of wood to the small triangular scar on his palm where a raptor snagged him with its beak.

The lube between them squeaked, a continuous rhythm punctuating the slap-slap of their bodies meeting. Clenching on Kane’s cock, Miki ground down on his lover, drawing out long groans with every twitch of his ass. Milking Kane on his downstrokes, Miki bit lightly on the thumb exploring his tongue, nibbling at its edges as he’d done to Kane’s cock head countless times before.

“Fuck, you feel so good, Mick,” Kane mumbled. “Let go of me. I gotta hold you.”

Miki reluctantly let Kane’s fingers slide from his mouth, taking one last taste of his lover’s flesh before Kane pulled free. The wet remained, and his spit was cool on his hot skin, a smear of damp against his hip where Kane laid his hand. His flesh beneath Kane’s grip gave slightly, and then the bruising bite of fingers digging into him promised Miki he’d not be able to sit down for breakfast whenever they finally rolled out of bed.

If anything, Kane’s dick got bigger, because Miki found himself holding on to the bed and opening himself up for his lover to ride him through the morning.

And ride him he did.

Kane’s thrusts spiked through him, his engorged head smearing along the trail of nerves in Miki’s core. The first flicker of a climax hit Miki hard, and he bucked his hips up, his pleas garbled between guttural noises. Kane hit the spot again, then missed—either on purpose or simply to drive Miki insane.

Insane didn’t even begin to explain how Miki felt when Kane picked up the pace and a river of sweat began to bead up on his spine. The salty musk of his skin touched his nose. Then it was washed away under the growing perfume of Kane’s body heat, mingling their scents together. He felt a drop of sweat from somewhere on Kane’s body strike him, a pinprick prophecy of what Kane had in store for him.

“You. Feel. So. Damned. Good.” Kane grunted out his words between strokes, taking long pulls on Miki’s body. “Really good, love.”

Miki lost any sense of Kane’s words as he spilled into Gaelic, a rush of music and sound the Morgan family called their native tongue. Most of it whispered past him, a rolling song, but he caught a few of the more familiar words—love, God, honey, and most off all, treasured heart.

All spoken for Miki.

It was the Gaelic that pushed him over. Those sinful, wicked weaves of sound, growled up from deep inside Kane’s soul. Miki didn’t even need to feel the hot, searing rush of Kane’s seed filling him. His body jerked and exploded, splattering his release over his belly and the bed. Currents strong enough to fill a dark sky with stars shattered over Miki, and he struggled to breathe past the shock. His lungs strained to grab at any air, and his legs shook, slammed time and time again by Kane’s heavier body.

Kane released a moment later, his cock pumping endless amounts of liquid fire into Miki’s channel. The thunder of his orgasm rolled over Miki, threshing spasms strong enough to rock his spine. Grinding his hips in, Kane took shorter strokes and pushed his hands against Miki’s ass, forcing Miki to grip him tighter. Jerking back and forth, Kane lodged himself into Miki’s curve and emptied his load deep into Miki’s guts.

Miki felt the rush break free of his body, the spent seed coursing down out of him. Kane cradled him, and they both ended up sideways on the duvet, Kane still pushed as deep into Miki as his softening cock would let him. They remained connected as the aftershocks of their sex rocked them, and Miki sighed heavily when Kane’s dick slipped out of him.

“God, you wear me out. You’re sucking the youth right out of me,” Kane mumbled into the crook of Miki’s neck.

“I can try to put some back into you.” He laughed when Kane murmured his consent. “I don’t want to move.”

“Then don’t. We can just go to sleep.”

“Can’t. I have the second stupid gift I got you to give you.” Miki wrinkled his nose. “There’s too many
g
’s in that. Gift. Got. Give. Let me go. I can blame this one on Damie too. Well, almost. He wanted me to get you a watch. I told him to fuck off. That’s what phones are for.”

“What’d you get me?” Kane sat up on his elbows when Miki slid over the bed to dig around in a drawer. “Other than that fine ass of yours.”

“Ass is original install. This is something new.” He put a small jewelry box on Kane’s abdomen. “I didn’t wrap it. After the tree fuck-up, I was kind of scared to.”

“The tree looks great,” Kane countered.

“Yeah, see if you say that after you help me pick duct tape off the dog. Then we’ll talk.” Miki wiped at his skin with Kane’s discarded shirt, then tried to get the duvet as dry as he could. Tossing the shirt aside, he shrugged at Kane’s incredulous look. “Don’t give me that shit. We’ve got to do laundry anyway. Open that up so we can laugh over it and go to bed.”

Sitting up all the way, Kane pulled himself up to rest against the headboard. Opening the hinged box, he tilted it so he could see its contents in the candlelight. His expression softened, nearly to honey if Miki had to put a name to it, and then Kane reached into the gift box.

“It’s a ring,” Kane nearly purred. “There’s two of them. And they’ve got knotwork.”

The candlelight shone bright on the thick gold, chasing down the complicated folds of Celtic designs cut into the ring. Kane smiled, a goofy, sweet grin, then grabbed Miki for a long kiss.

“Do you like it?” Miki murmured. “I wanted something… you know, special. Sort of. And all I had was the damned tree.”

“That’s
my
damned tree. No disparaging it,” Kane warned him off. “But I love the rings. Can’t wait to see yours on your finger.”

“Yeah, actually, about that,” Miki said, holding up his hand to spread his fingers out. “That’s kind of thick for me, and I take my shit off when I play. So I thought I’d go with something else. That ring’s for you.”

“Then what the hell is this?” Kane frowned, plucking the other gold circle from the box. Similar to Kane’s band, it ran slimmer, and one section was curved off to a curious truncation.

“That’s for my belly button piercing.” He caught a shimmer of an idea forming in Kane’s deep-blue eyes. “I thought maybe… you’d like to put it through for me. You know, kind of like sliding it on my finger, but….”