Page 34 of Keeper of All

Ekon basked in the passionate confession, his cock jerking pre-cum on the rug at his feet.

Mao’s chuckle held triumph.

Ekon’s eyes narrowed on his mate, and he got a sneaking suspicion his mate was trying to unravel him. “Lube, do you have some in here?”

“In the bathroom… top shelf,” he breathed in a throaty murmur.

Fucker! Ekon gripped the base of his cock, heard and paid no attention to the chuckling as he strode into the bathroom with one thing on his mind. Lube.

Easily spotting the large, nearly full bottle, Ekon grabbed it and continued to ring his cock as he walked back into the bedroom. He came to a sudden halt, his feet sliding on wood at the sight of Mao on all fours, his round, tight, tanned ass on full view. His balls hung heavy between spread thighs.

“Like what you see?”

Like. What a fucking insipid word.

On the bed in a flash, all his finesse gone. He’d hoped to draw this out, but it seemed his mate wanted to play dirty. Ekon was a master of dirty play. He opened the lube and squirted it down the crack of Mao’s ass, uncaring it dripped everywhere.

Mao moaned, head hanging between his arms, his ass canting back as lube slide over the sensitive skin.

Ekon tossed the bottle on the mattress, bent, and bit hard on the nearest ass cheek, his fingers sweeping through the lube to tease the rim of muscle clenching under his touch.

“Argh… fuck.” This was quickly followed by a low whimper at the fingers tapping gently against his hole.

Ekon remained attuned to Mao as he slowly slid fingers in a rhythmic motion, circling and tapping, feeling Mao push into his touch. The eagerness for more sitting between them.

By the time Ekon had the tip of one finger rubbing and pushing inside the hot flesh, Mao was rocking into each touch, trying to get Ekon to sink deeper inside him.

He bit his ass cheek again, then kissed the sting away as he slowly pushed into the hot heaven that greedily sucked him deeper.

They groaned together, and Ekon probed for the bundle of nerves that would make this feel ten times more intense. The second he stroked a fingertip over it, Mao’s head reared up, his back arching, muscles straining as he impaled himself on Ekon’s finger, the moan ripping from his throat sounding tortured. “More… need more.”

There. Now let's see how loud we can get.

He slipped his finger free and slid two through the excess lube and gently pushed at the relaxed, hot muscle. Only Mao was past wanting gentle and rocked with force. The fingers sliding deep and touched the nerve bundle with more force. “Motherfucker!” he howled, his cock spurting on the bed.

Ekon fucking purred in delight as he worked Mao until his throat was raw and he couldn’t hold back his own need to replace the fingers with his aching cock.

“Fuck me, stop fucking teasing me!” he roared and snapped all Ekon’s control from its leash.

“Hold the fuck on to the bed because this isn’t gonna take long.” He wasn’t ashamed because he knew the second he got inside Mao, that tight, hot, velvety sheath was going to squeeze the cum right the fuck out of him.

He wasn’t wrong!

Chapter Eighteen

Mao

The three journals taken from the eternal fae’s hideout were sitting on the bedside cabinet. They'd been there for three days, and since unpacking them, Ekon hadn't touched them. Mao had thought that they could’ve spent that time going through the journals, talking through Ekon's feelings about whatever they found there.

Mao was the first to admit, he wasn’t a “talk about your feelings” sort of person, but he was emotionally aware enough to realize those journals were more than just the ramblings of some man who had a record keeping obsession. In theory, the journals were the last opportunity for Ekon to find his file, which at the bare minimum would give him details about where he came from, and whose DNA they injected him with. But Ekon didn't seem to be in a hurry to read them.

What had been a pleasant surprise was that after the night Ekon had rocked his world in more ways than one, Ekon’s cat side was coming through more frequently than before. He seemed content to curl up with Mao on their big bed, the shades open so they could see the tops of the trees of the jungle outside without going out there.

Ekon was also content listening to conversations the others were having around the kitchen table when they went down for meals, but in truth, Mao wasn't the sort of person to talk things to death, and it seemed that Ekon was the same. He did make it plain through touch and the way he cuddled up to Mao, that he enjoyed being with him, and as Mao felt the same, he was happy to accept their downtime for what it was.

Just something was going on with his mate. It wasn’t anything specific that Mao could point to and think I need to fix that, or we need to get that looked at, but Ekon’s quietness… the odd wince he gave sometimes when he moved… the unnatural amount of time he spent sleeping…

Shifters didn’t get sick, so Mayo didn’t think that was it, but if it wasn’t an illness then what? Is his magic messing with him?