He gazes up at me, plaintive and pleading, scared and wanting all at once. I thumb over his parted lips, and they fall open wider. It’s so obvious how badly he wants this, but something still holds him back. I can’t believe I’m thinking this, but I want desperately to tear down that barrier and taste him, take him, keep him. I want to strip off not just his clothes, but also all of his self-righteous armor. There’s a soft, warm, needy human underneath, a human like any other, with desires and dirty thoughts and a beating heart.
“I don’t care,” I say. “I want you. I want to take you apart right here against the fucking wall, want you moaning so loud the whole house can hear us. Say yes, Denis. Let go.”
He’s still clinging to my shirt and wrist, holding me close. Our hips meet, bodies slowly grinding, need plain through the layers of fabric between us. He wants me, and for some damn reason I want him, but it takes one final push before he gives in.
If I didn’t know better, I’d swear something out there gives us that push. Physically.
He throws his arms around my neck, squeaking with surprise like he isn’t in control of his own body, like the movement startles him as much as it startles me. The moment his arms are around me, he pulls me close, nearly to his lips.
“Yes,” he says, the word brushing against my mouth. “Take me apart.”
Chapter Five
Denis
I NEVER BELIEVED ALL that stuff about eyes flashing with heat or going dark with desire, but that’s exactly what happens to Many’s face when I say yes. His dark eyes turn to pure midnight, even as they flare with a heat that washes through my body. I whimper as he crashes his mouth into mine, pinning me to the wall with that kiss. His hardness grinds against me, shocking and blunt, yet my hips move to meet his, to explore his excitement, to rub myself against him and ease the ache building inside me.
Many pulls away abruptly, leaving me gasping. For a moment, he simply stares at me, mouth parted.
Then he slides to his knees.
He touches me the whole way, holding that searing eye contact as his hands slither down my body. His fingers hook in the waistband of my pants when he drops to the floor. Those stupid pants are covered in dirt and fake blood, but Many undoes them with a reverence better suited to prayer than the sin about to unfold in this hallway. When he looks up at me under his dark brows, eyes worshipful, it reminds me of kneeling in church to receive communion, and that image is so jarring that I have to fall more heavily against the wall at my back and lock my knees to remain standing. The haunted house wavers around me like a mirage, a haze of heat clouding my thoughts, and fog coils around Many like a blanket trying to cover him.
I should stop this, shouldn’t I? I shouldn’t be into this at all,shouldn’t want it, shouldn’t be so hard that Many tugging my pants down to my ankles brings a relief I didn’t realize I needed desperately. Yet here I am, my breath coming fast and my cock hard as a hand other than mine touches it for the first time in my life.
My eyes flutter shut with a bliss I couldn’t have fathomed even an hour ago. I tilt my head back against the wall. Many strokes, and a groan creaks out of me. His hand encompasses me, almost like it’s not just him, like there’s more than one hand on me, all of them working in tandem. But Many’s is the most real, the most solid, the most corporeal. The phantoms of other hands must be in my head. My brain can’t make sense of an experience like this, so it’s concocting ghosts out of nothing. The supernatural provides a more plausible explanation for this than me simply wanting to hook up with a guy in a haunted house.
I only realize I’m still thinking, still worrying, still rationalizing, when Many gets his mouth on me.
My eyes snap open, a gasp choking me as heat wraps around my cock. I can touch myself, but I definitely can’t dothisto myself. Many closes his lips around me, sinking down my cock like it’s genuinely delicious. Maybe it is, because as he slides down me, he moans, the sound vibrating all through me.
“Oh, shit,” I rasp before I can stop myself.
I’m staring down at him without actually seeing him, my knees wobbling, my thighs turning to water. I grab for his wild hair, finding it soft and silky between my fingers. As I cling to him, he moans again, the sound even sweeter when it bounces around inside me. I can feel and not just hear his pleasure, and it makes me realize he’s not doing this for my sake. He actually likes this—a lot, a real lot judging by those sounds. As he plunges up and down me, he works his whole body, seeming to savor the way my cock invades his mouth and throat.
I flinch in actual pain when he abruptly pulls off, but thosedark eyes peering up at me like two black pits of sin and desire take the edge off the discomfort.
“Come on, Denis,” he says. “Let me hear you. Let me hear all of it before you shoot down my throat.”
I blink at the phrase “shoot down my throat.” Is that really what I’m about to do? Is that what hewantsme to do? I can’t manage to speak in response, which perhaps goes against his point, but I nod, and he accepts that answer. Blessedly, the warmth of his mouth encases me once more, dunking me right back into this surreal moment.
He throws himself down me, faster now, more aggressive, not leaving me anywhere to hide. My mind goes blank as the desire hits me like a fist to the gut, knocking all the breath out of me—and unleashing a noise unlike any I ever thought I’d make. The moan is long and withering, and I swear it’s not merely my voice. It’s like the whole barn is creaking around me, groaning from a storm battering the rickety old boards. Or perhaps it’s more like the ghosts and ghouls hiding all over this place are real and not just college students like me in costume, like this place is actually haunted, but with a menagerie of succubi soaking up the heady perfume of my pleasure.
My voice is no longer my own. It’s a whole chorus, a church choir singing in rapture. It seems to fill the house, the whole building moaning and groaning and howling, otherworldly spirits sighing on the dark of a Halloween night. The fog wraps around my ankle and climbs up my leg, icy cold fingers creeping higher and higher. I swear it swallows Many entirely and climbs all the way to my waist, but I’m so lost in lust that it’s just as likely this is all in my head. Still, I can’t shake the sensation of a feeling other than Many’s immaculate mouth, a coldness slithering over my skin, wrapping around the base of my cock where Many’s mouth doesn’t quite reach. It’s like an extra hand pumping me while his mouth taunts me…
And it isn’t just my cock it’s targeting.
A trickle of cold air drips over my ass like a bead of moisture. It slides between and down and…inside.
I startle, hips jerking as I straighten. Many moans as I shove myself aggressively into his mouth. I do it again as the cold squirms deeper inside me. It’s like a slender finger prying me open, wriggling into me for some nefarious purpose. Tight muscles clench instinctively, yet the more the cold invades, the more those muscles relent. I swoon against the wall at my back, caught between hot and cold, between plunging into Many and opening myself up to something that might not even be real. Then again, is any of this real? Could any of this be real? My head swirls, reality warping and melting around me until it doesn’t matter what is and isn’t real, whether that fog is just fog, whether something joins me when I moan or it’s simply my own voice filling up this creaking old barn with throaty cries of heathen pleasure.
“It’s…coming,” I grit out.
Many hums, not moving, not stopping, doggedly determined to keep his mouth on me.Shoot down my throat. He’s really going to do it. It’s building inside me. I grip his hair tighter in warning, my ass clenching around whatever may or may not be spearing into it and teasing that place inside me. I swear the spectral finger touches something, tickles something, because pleasure blooms so bright inside me it’s like fireworks going off in my face.
“F-fuck!” I spit, the expletive bursting out of me like it’s been hiding there for my whole stilted, stifled, stuffy life.
It’s not the only thing that bursts out of me. I explode down Many’s throat, emptying inside of him until I’m as hollow as this barn.
