MORTAL LOVE - complete MxM paranormal romance

9

He ached and throbbed with the bittersweet perfection of that kiss. Yearning mixed with the realization that this was one of a finite number of kisses. If only—

Rama broke away and tipped up his chin, claiming his gaze like he did everything else. "If you're still thinking, I'm not doing a very good job of ravishing you."

His smile should have warned Hiro, but he still shivered when Rama nipped his lower lip, then laved the sting with his tongue. The lightest kisses trailed down his throat, to his collarbone, and his chest.

He groaned and buried his fingers in the silk of Rama's hair.

"Mine," Rama whispered before the sharp edge of his teeth marked Hiro's skin.

His hips ground against the hard muscle of Rama's thighs. Following a torturous trail to his navel, Rama's tongue set his skin on fire.

"Tell me," the man commanded, lifting his gaze to Hiro's.

Even mindless with desire, with the heat the man stoked in him so bright and fierce it threatened to incinerate him, he knew. "Yours."

The word fell from his lips. He felt it in his marrow. Yours.

His cock strained against his dhoti when Rama kissed him right above the waistband. "Please."

As soon as Rama untied the last constraints, Hiro kicked the pants off, needing to be bare before this man, needing to feel the caress of his eyes, his hands, his mouth.

"Fucking perfection," Rama said as he closed his hands around Hiro's arousal.

The heat of his mouth on his nipple, the slight sting of teeth, the hard hold on his cock nearly had him come right then and there. "Rama," he pleaded.

A hoarse curse whispered against his lips and made Hiro smile. The speed with which the man got rid of his last garment even more.

Until he laid eyes on the beauty that was Rama and stopped breathing. A cock made for a god. Hard-earned muscle and white-healed scars. Dozens of lines crossed his brown skin, reminiscent of the odds this warrior beat every day. How hard he fought against his mortality.

Hiro closed his eyes as the fear of losing Rama washed over him again.

Rama's fingers circled his wrist and tugged his palm to his chest, right over his racing heart. "Stop thinking. Feel. Feel what you do to me."

The man led his hand down, along the hard edges of his stomach and lower still. Hiro opened his eyes. He needed to see his fingers travel the length of that perfect body.

He licked his lips when his fingertips brushed the trail of dark hairs, and Rama still guided him lower. His fingers closed around the silky hardness of Rama's arousal, and the man hissed, still holding onto Hiro's wrist.

He couldn't resist. Closing his free hand over the back of Rama's neck, he pulled him down and kissed him while he stroked the man's length, capturing every little sound Rama made.

Yours.

A light breeze caressed their bodies. For a moment Hiro wondered about spectators, but Rama's hold on his waist tightened when he slowed. The sigh against his lips, that tiny sound of bliss, caught his full attention.

Then Rama took over once more. He pushed Hiro down, continued his exploration of Hiro's chest and stomach. Licked his way down the groove from his waist, along his hipbone, to his cock captured in the man's palm.

The first brush of Rama's lips brought him right to the edge. "Not yet. I can't—

Rama looked up at him with that wild smile, and Hiro knew he didn't stand a chance. "Mine to do with as I please."

The tiny flick of Rama's tongue along the tip had him buck and bite his lower lip so hard he drew blood. The man teased, tasted, not letting him off the sharp edge of pleasure that never receded, not giving him the full bliss his body craved.

Hiro's nails scraped the roughness of the roof while he fought to breathe. His eyes snapped open when the sweet torture ended and Rama took his hands in his. He kissed the tip of each finger almost reverently, with a softness in his gaze that had Hiro shiver.

"Rama," he whispered. "I..."

The man smiled at him, got up, and pulled him to his feet. He led Hiro down the stairs. In the darkness of the warehouse, one corner barely lit by the flickering oil lamp, all Hiro could do was feel.

The roughness of the wall Rama maneuvered him against while they kissed.

The heat of that hard body that encompassed him.

The way his arousal ground against Rama's as they moved together, hands, mouths, bodies desperate for more.

They broke apart, panting, and Rama turned him around. He kissed his way from Hiro's shoulder to the base of his spine. Caressed the muscles along his back and his ass.

Hiro pushed back with a groan when a slick finger entered him. The warmth of Rama's body shielding his back, the lips exploring the sensitive skin of his neck, it was fucking perfection.

He leaned into Rama's strength and gave in as the man conquered all his senses, his sanity, and every part of his body. The second finger had him whimper. The third forced all air from his lungs.

When Rama claimed him, it was a slow, slow drive to the hilt. Hiro's head fell back against the man's shoulder, and Rama stilled, body plastered against his, impossibly big inside of him.

Hiro pushed back, needing him to move, to claim and sate the roaring hunger.

Instead, the man found his cock, slick with his desire, and stroked once, twice, until all Hiro could do was move into his hand, taking Rama's cock with every movement. He grew frantic, pleaded, whimpered.

With a growl, Rama took over. He fucked him with hard, deep strokes that left Hiro mindless. He arched back and shuddered when Rama pounded even deeper into him.

It only took a few more strokes of Rama's hand, a few hard thrusts for him to erupt. The man didn't let up, driving him against the wall with the force of his claim until he spilled deep inside.

Rama turned him around and pulled his shivering body as close as they could get to one another. His kiss was surprisingly soft, and his words even more so. "You're mine, Hiro of the Arav."

Hiro buried his face against the slope of the man's shoulder and held on.

For as long as you live.