|Maella Abbey (maella_abbey) wrote,|
@ 2008-03-01 22:20:00
The snow muffled things, and Eight knew he should be wary of that, knew he should be even more on his guard, but it was hard to remember with Angelo and Jessica there. They certainly didn't seem concerned, hands warm and mouths hot against his skin.
We can't, he wanted to protest when he felt his tunic shoved up, his trousers dragged down. So many reasons they couldn't, from the risk of monsters to the presence of the others to the cold Orkutsk wind, though that last seemed strangely distant, held at bay by the kisses Jessica was pressing against his thigh.
Angelo stood behind him, right arm around his waist, supporting him, left hand curled around his erection. A moan rose, caught in his throat when Angelo nuzzled his neck and whispered, "Quiet, my lovely, so quiet."
Quiet, yes. It wouldn't be good to wake the others.
His thigh stung at a nip from Jessica. She laughed like breaking crystals and nipped again; Eight found himself suddenly needing Angelo's support, his leg gone strange and limp. He looked down at her; his vision blurred, and for a moment he would have sworn the red of her hair was really blood glistening on the snow.
Angelo tugged at his cock, just rough enough, and he forgot about the pain in his leg, already receding to numbness. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, let the heat coil in his belly, trusting Angelo to hold him up.
Angelo's teeth sank into his neck - sharp, too sharp, and cold as needles of ice - just as he came. Eight's body sagged; distantly, he was aware of hitting the ground, though the merciless cold was the only thing that penetrated the numbness.
A roaring around him, over him; boom, he thought, and wondered that any of the monsters here in the mountains knew it. Then voices, disjointed but familiar: Goddess, the blood...if you've any magic left, use it, man...must've hit 'im wiv a spell before 'e knew they was there...here, help me with this blanket...knew it was too damned quiet tonight.
Magic coiled around him; rough hands, hot against chill skin, moved him; warmth wrapped him.
He let the world go dark.