This is a story of fiction, all resemblances (dead or alive) are eerily coincidental. Everything in the story is owned by myself beloved. Contains descriptive sexual scenes between males, if you are not supposed to read it then don't. Feel free to e-mail me.
- XXX -
He woke up, realizing that his hips were rocking steadily. He almost frowned at that, but then he let out a rather loud moan instead, when he felt a quick, very insistent tongue having its way with him between his legs. He jerked his legs farther apart, giving that wonderful tongue better access, and Gabriel threw him a quick glance without lifting his head. He let out a small smile when he met the half-lidded stare of green eyes, and his tongue became even more insistent, making Desmond's back to jerk off the sheets.
Gabriel placed both of his hands on the other man's hips, pinning him to the mattress without interrupting whatever it was that he was doing that made Desmond's throat to produce several more low, shaking moans.
"Oh, hell...!" Desmond breathed when that tongue suddenly changed its strategy, replacing all teasing vertical motion with horizontal, striking forward with surprising strength, keeping its steady, quick pace.
Desmond's back arched off the sheets again, while his hips stayed pinned to the mattress, when he felt that silky, insistent tongue slipping even deeper inside than it did a few minutes ago. He threw his head back, locking his teeth on his lower lip, muttering something that ended with "...Gabriel..." He meowed helplessly when he felt explorations, which were far from timid – they were almost aggressive, making his back to fly off the sheets yet again.
He reached for his throbbing, demanding by now length, his hand trembling, and Gabriel threw him a quick, warning look when he saw that.
"Touch yourself, and I will stop!" he thought without looking away from Desmond's face.
Desmond let out a loud, helpless moan, and his hand dug its fingers into the sheets instead, grasping them so tightly that the knuckles turned white. Gabriel seemed to be satisfied with that; he shifted his gaze away from Desmond's face, half-closing his eyes, and letting his tongue to pick up more speed, making the other man swear in breaking, moaning manner.
Desmond's entire body shuddered when Gabriel added another move to the fast, slick dance that he performed so skillfully – there was that swirling, shimmering action that made the entire dance to expand somehow, to gain more depth, to cast more maddening hunger as the result.
"Don't stop!" Desmond spat out breathlessly when all of a sudden, Gabriel pulled away. "Shit, Gabriel, don't stop...!"
Rayhe grinned at that and lowered his head once again, resuming the dance, slowing the pace somewhat so he could make those explorations to last longer than they did before. Desmond let out another low moan, and this one sounded almost pleading, when that skillful tongue managed to twist itself into something that felt almost impossible.
"Not yet," Rayhe threw him a silent warning when he felt several helpless, fluttering contractions ripple around him, and he slowed down as if proving to the other man that he meant it.
Desmond groaned at the change of pace, grasping harder onto the sheets when those slow, steady thrusts made him squeeze his eyes shut. He moaned and trembled, growling something, while Gabriel was taking his sweet time, never letting go of his hips, keeping them pinned to the bed. Finally, Desmond managed to thrust himself forward just a little, trying to change the pace, trying to draw attention to his quickly pulsating, neglected length, and Gabriel threw him another quick glance.
"Say it," he thought without even a hint of picking up speed. "Say it...!"
Desmond gritted his teeth, his eyes rolling backwards, and he growled something that suspiciously sounded like, "Goddamn you...!"
"Say it," Gabriel thought again without shifting his gaze from his mate's face distorted by a beautiful grimace. "Say it..."
Desmond gritted his teeth once more, and then he let out a shaky, sobbing moan when that magical tongue swirled inside him harder than before, changing the angle in the most delightful, maddening manner.
"Say it," Rayhe murmured in his head. "Desmond, say it... Otherwise, I'll just keep on going, you know it..." He delivered several quick, hard thrusts and slowed down again, as if underlining his silent words.
Desmond managed to make his eyes to concentrate on Rayhe's face, bringing them from the back of his head, his breathing nothing but shaking, growling wheezing.
"Say it..." Gabriel whispered silently. "Des, say..."
"Please..." Desmond muttered, interrupting him.
"More..."
Desmond drew in a quick, shaky breath.
"Please..." he said again, louder this time. "Shit, Gabriel... Please...! Please!"
Rayhe didn't reply this time; he just inhaled somewhat sharply, half-closed his eyes, and released Desmond's hips, one of his hands slowly traveling downwards while the other wrapped itself around Desmond's leaking need. The ex-assassin let out a somewhat muffed, grateful howl, and his hips immediately took advantage of newly found freedom, thrusting upwards, mirroring the identical rhythm of hand and tongue.
Gabriel started picking up speed and force gradually, tightening his grasp as he went, making his fingers change pressure one at a time, as if he were playing some sort of a musical instrument, his tongue becoming more and more ruthless and fast. Desmond's throat was ringing with helpless crescendo, his head thrown backwards, fingers tremble into the sheets, while his hips jerked upwards almost violently by now.
Gabriel felt those desperate, fluttering contractions hugging him in a delicious way, and he quickened the pace yet again, his grasp tightening immensely.
"You know you want to..." he thought quickly, his own breath nowhere near steady while he worked himself into the same sweet oblivion, the mere sight of Desmond's wild body driving him towards the edge faster than he thought it would. "You know you want to... Don't hold back... Let it go...!"
Those quick silent words seemed to be the final push, and Desmond moaned out Rayhe's name while letting himself go just like Gabriel wanted him to. He shuddered for so long that Gabriel felt his tongue go numb from all those insane muscle hugs and twitches. Finally, Desmond let out the last sobbing moan, and his body started to relax, while his breathing stayed fast and shallow.
Gabriel made his shaky way towards his mate's face, his skin flushed, the entire body trembling, mimicking Desmond's, their breaths identically quick and uneven.
"Holy hell, that was long..." Rayhe muttered, dropping himself onto the pillows.
"Mmm..." Desmond said weakly, and then his eyes darted towards Gabriel's hips.
"I took care of myself," Gabriel nodded when he caught that look. "I knew that you wanted to come just like that..."
"Mmm..." Desmond said again, louder this time, and scooted closer to the other man, burying his face in his chest, placing several quick, small kisses on flushed skin. "That was one hell of a way to wake up..." he muttered several minutes later, and Gabriel let out short laughter, his breathing slowly returning to normal. "What time is it?"
The shrieking of the alarm answered his question, and he sighed while Gabriel reached out with trembling hand, making all the shrieking to stop.
"Call in," Desmond grabbed onto Rayhe's waist when the other man attempted to get up. "Gabriel, just call in...! Stay home today..."
"Can't," Gabriel said with audible regret. "The auditors are coming today; I have to be there..."
"Dammit..." Desmond gritted his teeth and relaxed his arm reluctantly.
"I'll take off as soon as they leave though," Gabriel leaned closer and placed a slow kiss on Desmond's mouth. "I should be home by four at the latest, I promise," he nodded without looking away from Desmond's eyes.
"I guess it's better than seven," Desmond sighed in defeat and returned the kiss. "Pick up some smokes, I am almost out... And since I can't leave the house now..." His eyebrows twitched together in annoyed, twisted line.
"I'll get some," Gabriel nodded and kissed him again.
"Oh, hey," Desmond grabbed his arm just as Rayhe was about to get out of bed. "Had another dream..."
Gabriel's expression immediately became wary.
"Not Raven," Desmond shook his head, and Gabriel relaxed.
"Thank God..." he muttered. "Who was it?"
"That artist," Desmond yawned. "The one who painted the labyrinth."
"Henry?" Gabriel blinked, and Desmond shrugged.
"I never knew his name," he said lazily. "Anyway, he was painting the damn thing, and there was Magda in the mirror... She didn't see me, of course... Well," he propped himself up on one elbow. "She told him to write number forty in the upper right corner."
"Number forty?" Gabriel frowned. "I didn't see any numbers on that painting..."
"That's because she told him to cover it up," Desmond nodded.
"Forty of what?" Gabriel's frown remained the same – puzzled and worried.
"She didn't say... She only said that it was some sort of precaution. I tried getting into her head, but then the dream kicked me out," he finished with a small sigh.
"Huh..." Gabriel said thoughtfully, and then slightly shook his head. "I gotta go," he said with regret, and gave Desmond another kiss. "Tell Julian about that, will you?"
"Ugh," Desmond grimaced and fell back on the pillows. "Yeah, yeah," he yawned and waved his hand after Gabriel looked at him patiently. "I will..." He rolled his eyes. "Yes, Rayhe, I promise," he yawned again. "Go take your shower... Hurry back, will you?"
Gabriel let out a quick smile.
"I will," he nodded and went to the shower.
...When he came out, Desmond was asleep, his expression peaceful, mouth slightly open. Gabriel smiled when he heard very soft snoring. He got dressed quickly and quietly, and placed a light kiss on his mate's mouth before leaving the bedroom and shutting the door behind him.
"Had a dream," Desmond announced shortly while he filled his mug with that awesome brand, the aroma of which filled the kitchen. "Rayhe thinks you should know about that." He nodded, thinking that he briefly woke up around nine in the morning because of those `Don't stop...!' calls, which (he had to admit) were somewhat muffled, and that he managed to go back to sleep after he slammed two pillows on top of his head, and then it has been good four hours before he regained consciousness again.
"What was it?" Salamander asked in the mild manner Desmond was getting used to by now.
He quickly chewed some of his sandwich and washed it down with coffee. Then he told the blond (Raven was still asleep it seemed) about his dream.
"Forty..." Julian muttered mostly to himself. "Forty... A precaution..."
"No idea," Desmond nodded again, even though the blond never asked him anything.
Julian threw him a quick, dark look, a shadow of annoyance running over his face when he realized that he forgot to pull up his usual mental barrier.
"I see," he said evenly and drank more of his coffee, his cigarette resting between his fingers. Finally, he sighed and got up. "I have to do something for the next several hours," he said and finished his coffee. "I'll think about it after I am done."
"That works," Desmond shrugged and looked at the clock, thinking that he should do something as well – he never started his project with that book yesterday as he was planning at first.
It was almost one in the afternoon; he refilled his mug, grabbed a pack of cigarettes off the table, and marched into his office, noting that the blond was already in front of his laptop, murmuring something into the headset.
Desmond shut the door, swung the window open, and turned on the computer while flipping through the book. The computer came to life with content purring, and Desmond absent-mindedly clicked on one of the icons, waiting to get online. Usually, it would take a couple of minutes for everything to load, so he just stared at the screen when all of a sudden, he was in online mode, and everything was fully loaded.
"Huh?" he said while clicking on something else, which loaded in less than three seconds. "What...?"
He frowned, left his cigarette in the ashtray, and got up, pushing his chair backwards. He went back into the living room and stood next to Salamander, semi-patient look on his face while he waited for the blond to finish his conversation. Finally, Julian covered the microphone with his hand and looked up.
"What?" he asked when he saw Desmond's frown.
"What happened to the connection speed?" Desmond asked, nodding at the laptop.
"It's Blue Line," Julian said slowly, as if trying to figure out the problem with fast connection speed.
"We don't have Blue Line," Desmond nodded, and the blond sighed.
"You do now," he said mildly. "Don't worry," he added before taking his hand off the microphone. "You won't have to pay for it."
Desmond watched him return to his discussion for a few seconds, and then he sighed and went back to his office. "Might as well get a couple other projects done while we have it," he thought melancholically, knowing that this marvelous speed would be gone once the blond finally leaves.
He plopped in the chair in front of his computer, stuck his half-finished by then cigarette between his teeth, and got to work.
A little of shameless self-advertising: you can find all my stories, including The Dreamtrap herehttp://stores.lulu.com/store.php?fAcctID=3895328