Short Circuit (Riders of Tyr #7)

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Begging

Nathan

I have never driven faster in my life and I have been chased by men that were flying bullets my way. But I can’t wait to go to Erin’s and meet him. I am lying to myself that all this time I am worried that something might have happened to him but it would be exactly that: a lie.

Despite all that we have been through, despite the fact that the two of us just walked in, meeting some people that would very much prefer we were dead and managed to walk out with everything we wanted, all I can think about is his promise. The promise of what would happen when all of this would be done.

So I wrapped it up as fast as I could. Sure, the kid’s father and my employer wanted details especially on how to find those who dared touch his precious boy and teach them a lesson. But I managed to cut those questions short. Thankfully, my reputation saved me a lot of time and probably a torture session. Then he demanded I stay to celebrate but I advised it would be best to focus on his boy and give him time to come in terms with what has happened.

And all this so I could just go back and worship Stig’s pierced klubba!

But I know what the urgency is all about. He’ll leave. Today - OK maybe tomorrow if I suck him dry - he will ride that Harley of his and he will go back to Berkley, where he belongs. And I will stay here, doing my job, where I belong. Fuck...

I press the gas more ready to pay all the reward on fine tickets if it meant five more minutes with him when I see a store. I smile and hit the brakes.

***

When I open the door, I am greeted by laser blasts and blaring sounds. I enter the living room and I see Stig sitting on the couch, leaned back, totally crashing the game with a bored look on his face.

“Hey, pretty boy,” I chuckle.

Stig turns to me in surprise and behind him, the game blares that he lost the round or whatever. He doesn’t seem to care. A smile blooms on his face and on mine too when I see that he hasn’t dropped the habit of walking around shirtless.

“I got you these.” I shake the bag.

Stig’s eyes widen and I laugh at his childish face. He looks freaking adorable. He gets up and saunters to me, licking his lips.

“All this for me?”

“Just a thank you for coming through today,” I say and shake the bag once more.

He grabs the huge bag of M&M’s and pushes me against the wall. Well, I should have tried that the first time I saw him.

“You will have to do so much better thanking me, old man,” he whispers in my ear and makes me shiver.

His tone is dominating and teasing at the same time. Who knew that I would be a sucker for a man being so demanding? Before he says anything else, I go for his crotch. He is already hard.

“How about,” I massage and feel him twitch in my hand, “you get a taste of those M&M’s and I get a taste of you?”

Stig looks down at the bag of M&M’s for a second and then drops it on the coffee table.

“How about I get a taste of you too?”

My jaw drops but Stig gives me no chance to reply. He pins me harder against the wall and takes my lips in his in a hungry kiss that has my head spin. We went up against gangsters and one of the world’s richest men today and this kiss is what makes my knees weak.

Stig breaks the kiss and grabs the collar of my shirt. He gives me one sultry look before he rips the thing apart. I hear buttons fly all over the place but I simply do not give a fuck. I grab the man that has turned me inside out and I kiss him hard. I suck his lips, I bite, I battle with his tongue.

When we surface to catch our breaths, Stig pushes me down on the floor. I have to buy that damn rug from Erin, I think as I feel the soft material touch me. We make out heavily with Stig leaning over me, our legs intertwined, his crotch rubbing against my thigh. His hand travels slowly down my torso till he reaches the buttons of my pants.

“Fuck!” I hiss when he slides in and grabs me firmly.

He says nothing, just nibbles on my neck while he gets rid of his pants. I shake mine off as fast as I can trembling with anticipation. I want him, I want him so bad. My pretty boy, I chant in my head and I don’t give a fuck that I am calling him mine. Right here and now, he is mine, all mine.

He keeps his slow attack, his lips leaving trails on my neck and his hand caressing me lazily. His thumb goes over the tip of my cock, leaking with pre-cum.

"Helvete!" Stig curses.

He says nothing more, just gets up and adjusts his body to what he has in mind. He moves and he is rested sideways once more but this time, it’s his crotch to my head. To be honest, I haven’t done this before but as Stig offers me the splendid view of his pierced cock while he breathes over mine I am thinking: What the fuck! Stig will go and I won’t get another taste of him.

So, I move and take as much of him as I can in my mouth in one gulp and I can’t but smile when I hear him curse. That small victory doesn’t last long. I feel his pierced tongue lick the length of my erection and it’s my turn to lose it.

“Fuck, don’t stop, pretty boy!”

Stig mutters something in Swedish and keeps assaulting me. I am so turned on, I completely forget about the cock I have still in my hand. And as if wanting to protest over its neglect, Stig’s dick swells and twitches, bringing my attention to it once more.

Damn, why haven’t I done this before? This double assault on my senses, giving and receiving in this decadent, delicious way is a mind-blowing experience. I can’t concentrate on one thing so I let go and allow all my senses to be overloaded at once.

I take the way he tastes in my mouth, salty and spicy, the way his vanilla scent conquers the cells of my body, the way his skin feels under my touch, the way his grunts and pants fill the room. And how all this is mixed with mine, in a neverending cycle of passion.

“Nat,” Stig stops sucking me to say just this, to caress my body and look at me at the other side of his body.

We pant, locked in this gaze. I want to crawl up to him and kiss his swollen mouth but I am too caught up in what we are doing.

“Stig,” is all I can reply.

He takes one deep breath as if to say something but then exhales, smiles at me too sweetly for the lustful position we are in and leans in to place kisses on my dick, from head to bottom. I shut my eyes so forcefully by this sensation, that I see stars. And I dive right back into sucking him deep till I feel his piercing scratch the back of my throat.

That alone is the end of me. The more I get into it, the more I feel my own orgasm build. and when Stig swallows me as far as he can go, I can’t rein it in.

“Fuck, Stig! I am going to come!” I warn him cause what I feel coming might as well drown him.

He ignores my warning and pushes me to him grabbing my thighs. While I am all buried in his hot mouth, I come. And I come and I come for what seems like hours. It’s going to take me years to recover from this but I don’t care. God, I love Tyr and his warriors, it’s never too late to turn religious. I am this close to actually kneel and pray to that god of his that Stig has tattooed on his back as he swallows eagerly what I am offering as if I am a tasty meal. Eat shit, M&M’s. He likes me best!

I am still recovering when Stig grabs his own cock and pumps it furiously. I want to do something, do my part but I am too spent, too exhausted and too mesmerized by the sight to do anything. His hand moves faster and I know he is about to come. Unable to do much but unwilling to sit by and watch, I lean and dart the tip of my tongue out, licking his pierced head.

"Fan!" He yells and comes frantically all over my face.

We both roll on our backs and take in deep breaths till they come back to normal. That was... That was... That was like everything that has to do with Stig since the first moment I laid my eyes on him. Fucking perfect.

Without saying anything, Stig gets up and heads for the kitchen. I prop up on my elbows and I see him come back with a damp cloth. He kneels next to me and he cleans my face, concentrating on the task, pulling his lip ring.

I watch him clean me up and a knot is tied up inside me, my stomach fluttering and my eyes sting. I am moved deeply, struggling to remember when it was the last time someone showed me that kind of affection. Never in my hard life. Not my father, not my ephemeral lovers, not even my sparse friends like Ava.

I lift my arm and cup his face. The action makes him focus on me and I swallow hard when his blues hit me. I do not move and I do not open my mouth. But I am begging, I know I am. Don’t leave me.

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