On Thursdays I post excerpts from a novel I’m working on. This week, Vorgell copes with an unexpected turn from Madd... in bed.
Thick as Ice, 2b
Vorgell whispered into the spell stone to open the door. Spell locks were uncanny things, created from hair and living breath and bits of toenails and skin. Only witches could make them. It had been Vorgell and Madd’s great fortune to be able to prevail upon their skilled witch friend Reannry to weave this one. She remained grateful for their help in rescuing her sister.
Though Vorgell had come to Gurgh carrying a deep distrust of magic and those who used it, he had learned much since. Magic locks were useful to a man who wished to keep both life and gold intact. And any thief who made it past the lock was likely to encounter Petal, as fierce as a dragon when it came to safeguarding her humans and their den. Before Reannry had set the spell lock, the basilisk had turned several would-be burglars to stone. Word must have gotten around because intruders had since become as scarce as rats.
Indeed, Vorgell had only to open the door to spy Petal perched on the broad ledge of the room’s only window. Darkness obscured all but the shape of her scaly head against the night and a glint of moonlight from her eyes. After settling Madd on his bed and closing the door, Vorgell went over to scratch the back of Petal’s crested neck and surveyed his latest home.
Shadows softened the interior but moonlight filled the sleeping alcove with its two beds. Madd had insisted on separate beds and Vorgell had humored him in that the same as he did in nearly everything. Being frugal, he had made his own bed frame by hand, using good wood. He had then paid a woman to stitch a mattress cover, which he had stuffed with the fleece of mountain goats as was the tradition of his nomadic people. Madd’s bed, placed in the same alcove, had previously belonged to a high-hatted lord. One night they’d burgled the fellow of a sword said to have belonged to the great conqueror Adeserre II and that same night had returned for the bed, a very fine piece rather too grand for its current situation.
Petal grumbled and turned her head. When he looked over to Madd, Vorgell saw why. The witch was struggling out of his clothes, his pale limbs flashing in the weak light. Though he wobbled a bit, Madd managed at last to free himself and soon stood before Vorgell in all his naked glory.
A prettier male had never stood in Vorgell’s sight. Though hardly taller than a youth, Madd’s form was graceful and perfect, neither too long of body nor short of leg, his shoulders just broad enough to be masculine and his belly tightly muscled above a fine cock that was every bit as seductive as the rest of him. Just the sight of so much masculine beauty was enough to banish every other thought in Vorgell’s skull.
Madd tilted his head and tipped his chin. “Come here, big guy.”
That was all the prompting Vorgell needed. Whatever game Madd had been playing all night, giving him looks any hot-blooded man or woman would want to answer, the time had come to make good on the offer.
Before his partner could change his mind, Vorgell had stripped off his clothes and unlidded his trusty bedside jar of falu oil, in hope of their fun going in that direction. He’d no sooner turned back around than Madd looped both arms around his neck and they sank, naked and entangled, onto Vorgell’s large bed. The wool-stuffed mattress sagged beneath their combined weight. Vorgell passed his hand over his partner’s quiet face, tracing features even more beguiling when turned to planes and shadows by moonlight.
“Why do you do it?” Madd’s gaze scoured his.
“Do what?” The feel of his partner’s skin sucked at his control.
“Put up with my shit.”
“Because it’s you, and I want to find out what all that shit is hiding.”
“What if it’s just more shit?”
“Then I will help you cleanse it from you, because under all that shit is a man I care about.”
“A man? Fuck me. When did that happen?”
“Before last year. For me, you’ve never been anything other.” Was it possible for his soul to drown in a man’s eyes? He often felt that way when he looked into Madd’s.
“Well I think the gods are getting a few good laughs. A man? I’m pretty sure I was supposed to die in the streets before that ever came to pass.”
“Your gods never anticipated the likes of me.” Seeing Madd smile at his words made Vorgell’s heart leap. He would charge into a den of wizards for this man.
“No one could have anticipated an oaf like you.”
The kiss that followed was demanding, fierce, designed to devour Vorgell’s will. He had precious little of that to start with. Having Madd in his arms like this, all hot silken skin over corded muscle and tight body pressed against his, need to need, threatened to strip away his hard-won equilibrium. He wrestled the urge to toss Madd under him, spread his thighs, and take the plunge.
There was something new about their lovemaking tonight. Something wanton and irresistible and wanting to be pursued. Wherever Vorgell’s hands wandered, they met begging, willing flesh. Madd was generally agreeable in bed—but abandoned? Never. Yet tonight Madd was a wolf bitch in heat, nipping and sucking with provocation, arching his lithe body to be pleasured and lifting his ass for Vorgell to grab and fondle. Surely this was a dream.
Grappling and grinding, they bent and straightened their limbs until they found an arrangement that allowed their cocks to bump together with maddening pleasure. Vorgell’s thighs were now between Madd’s legs, holding them open. Delighted by this unexpected position, Vorgell savored his partner’s wantonness with ardent caresses, enjoying how Madd grunted encouragement with every bump of their cocks and pass of his hands. The novelty thrilled him and he employed even bolder touches, exploring every begging inch of skin. Without thinking, he cupped and delved between Madd’s smooth ass cheeks, and eagerly touched the source of his oft-expressed and never satisfied dreams.
He hesitated, expecting Madd to put a stop to it. Instead, the other man arched his back and pushed back against Vorgell’s fingers. Sensing welcome, Vorgell used just one finger to lightly stroke the puckered spot, teasing it the way Madd so often teased him and hoping the effect was the same. He’d never had much opportunity to be tender and felt uncertain of his technique.
Madd’s breathing changed, became slower and less urgent. Vorgell lifted his head to look at Madd’s face. Eyes closed, jaw clenched. Madd looked like a man in pain. Yet he continued to rock, needful and yearning, against Vorgell’s finger. He clearly wanted more of what Vorgell was doing. The man was open, hot and wanting—but dry and—
Vorgell pulled his hand away and groped for the falu oil he’d set out. He found it and dipped in his finger. The oil made anal teasing better for him and he wanted that same pleasure for his partner. Quickly, before Madd could change his mind or lose interest, Vorgell located Madd’s hole again, put his finger back in place and gave a small push. With a tiny whimper, Madd stiffened. But he didn’t resist the finger Vorgell inserted with short, careful thrusts into his ass.
“If you don’t want this—” Vorgell murmurred.
“Just do it, you oaf.”
The harsh tone confused him. Did Madd want this or not? He had not asked him to stop. But the body in his arms had ceased its wanton undulations. Was he doing something wrong? Fingering a man was not a skill Vorgell had practiced. Men of his tribe buggered boys to shame them, not to bring them pleasure. A warrior might place his cock in an ass, but a finger? What little he knew of pleasing an ass, he had Madd to thank for.
Excited by where this opportunity might lead, Vorgell gave himself wholly to the task.
Taking care not to be rough, he worked tenderly, the way Madd had always done with him. Oil. Push. More oil… lots of oil… then stretch. Once he had all his finger inside and Madd was slippery, he slowed his pace. Madd was hot within. Hot as blood—as life and the womb and the fire the gods had used to create living flesh. The texture of the muscle surrounding his finger surprised him by being slightly ridged yet silken, tight and yielding. For a moment he thought of putting his cock to this hole, of what it might feel like, how it might look to see himself sink between his friend’s pert, muscular buttocks. A groan escaped his lips at the prospect.
His own clamoring need reminded him of another tactic Madd employed. Still working his finger into Madd’s passage, he grasped his partner’s stiff cock in his other hand and began to stroke that heated length also.
“Oh Mother Moon!” Madd’s gasp told Vorgell he was doing something right.
Elation swept through him, though his confusion doubled as he looked upon his partner’s face. Madd didn’t look pleasured. His jaw was clenched, his teeth tight. And though Madd’s eyes had flashed open, he looked scared. But he wasn’t asking Vorgell to stop and his cock was stiff and swollen and—
“Fuck me. Harder.”
“Like this?” Vorgell made rougher motions with his finger.
Still drawing on his own experience, Vorgell ceased his attention to Madd’s cock and used that hand to fumble for more oil, which he trickled down the crack of Madd’s ass and onto his plunging finger. With more oil, he pulled back and then pushed in again with two fingers, stretching Madd further.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No.” The word sounded forced, broken. “Stop talking and just… do it.”
What did Madd mean by that? Both their cocks bumped and bounced with every thrust, but Vorgell didn’t think Madd was saying he wanted Vorgell’s cock in his ass. Madd wanted what was already happening and didn’t seem to care about Vorgell’s attempts at finesse. He had an idea and worked his two fingers deeper. Using his partner’s gasps to gauge his success, he sought the bump Madd had described to him. Touching that bump had always given Vorgell pleasure. He was certain Madd would feel pleasure too, if only he could do this the way his writhing partner wanted.
“There!” Madd gasped.
Yes. There it was, barely felt but definitely a bump. Vorgell stroked it again and with his other hand took hold of Madd’s cock, making sure to clasp his own in the same hand. Slick with oil, his big fingers encompassed them both and he stroked their cocks as one conjoined beast. At the same time, Madd’s thighs pumped, ass riding his fingers.
“Now! Now… now”—Madd was pleading as if against himself, though it was he who pushed onto Vorgell’s finger as though it was a god’s own gift—“Oh no, gods. Please… please!”
Madd cried out as his whole body quaked. His cock jerked and spilled hot release to fill Vorgell’s hand. A few squeezes of his ass later, Madd drew in a ragged gasp and raised his body, pulling off Vorgell’s hand as if he could not do so quickly enough. He immediately rolled across Vorgell’s body to lie on the mattress, back to him.
Bewildered, Vorgell dispatched his own pounding lust by planting his feet on the floor and pumping his hard cock in a fist slick with oil and come. Only a few strokes were needed to bring him to ejaculation. He attempted to be silent, gulping at the damp still air and only half enjoying his completion. Pure physical release was meager reward.
Nothing about this night’s pairing had centered on him.
Not knowing what else to do, he sat up and sought to pull Madd into his arms. It only surprised him a little to find himself embracing a writhing wildcat. He had expected Madd might resist. He would not have let go if Madd had somehow pulled a knife on him. It took a moment to pull their bodies around until they both lay fully on the bed, Madd facing the wall and Vorgell holding him firmly.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I tried not to hurt you. I’m big and clumsy and—”
A twisted laugh answered. “You didn’t hurt me, you oaf. It wasn’t you.”
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