Lewell’yn watched the little Akanti dance around the kitchen. Two weeks of watching the little man cook had equated to two weeks of shagging the hell out of him. The graceful, sensual way Tian moved while preparing food never failed to stir Lewell’yn to hunger for more than the next delicious meal. Lewell’yn had his cock in the little man’s arse every chance he got, and still couldn’t get enough of Tian.
Little fucker’s addictive…
The man…kept colour in the world. Lewell’yn had suspected, from the moment he got close enough to breathe in the sweetly musky smell that was uniquely Tian’s that the man was his. He’d known for sure when touching the man that first time had brought colour back into his vision.
… and it’s just about time for another hit.
Lewell’yn craved the stabilizing force Tian exuded more than the smoking hot sex. There were worse things to be addicted to. Lewell’yn had used most of them at one time or another.
One of the quirks of my questionable DNA that I actually enjoy is my inability to become physically addicted to any of those substances. This feeling Peaches gives me may fucking well be the exception to that rule though.
Lewell’yn knew he was a greedy bastard. As often as he had the gorgeous redhead, and as satisfying as it was to screw the man senseless he wanted more. He’d seen to Tian properly not twenty minutes ago and here he was with his cock trying to tear its’ way right out of his shipsuit.
The next time Tian wags his sweet arse at me I’ll—fuck-!-that tears it…
Tian had bent down to pull a heavy sauce pan from the drawer below the big industrial stove. Lewell’yn stalked over, snatched him up and flung him face down in the midst of the vegetables he’d just finished mincing. He managed this time to avoid ripping the little Akanti’s pants as he impatiently yanked them down below the man’s trim hips.
“Lewell’yn! Damn it! You’re gonna make me late with the meal again!!”
“Peaches, I warned you this morning not to wag that fuckable little arse at me. If you wanted to serve yer meals on time ya shouldn’t have been advertising for a quick an’ dirty shag.”
Tian gave a half annoyed huff as he tried to smack Lewell’yn with the closest weapon he found. Given that he was currently sprawled in the midst of his stir-fry ingredients the best he could do was to a bunch of scallions. Reaching over his head he managed to hit Lewell’yn with them three times before the man had his cock generously lubed with cooking oil and half-way up Tian’s arse. The words that had sounded briskly scolding in Tian’s head came out his mouth decidedly more breathy.
“Lewell’yn I-unnnh-I’m g-going to…oh, harder…I’m going to—unh—give you all the burnt food Jeram makes for the—Oh!—next week if unnh you make me ruin ahh my veg-oooh-tables.”
Stormy grey eyes ran down the small, elegant length of the cook’s back coming to a stop on the firm curve of his arse. Lewell’yn pulled his hips slowly back until his cock slipped almost completely out of the velvety heat surrounding it. Leaning down, he thrust back in with carefully controlled violence. Lewell’yn used his mouth to push back the edge of Tian’s tunic. He nipped sharply at the juncture of shoulder and neck, where the Akanti’s clothing would hide the tell-tale mark.
Every single thing has colour. Red hair, yellow peppers, the sweet dusky pink of his moaning lips. It’s so good.
Lewell’yn wanted all of Tian’s sweetness and all of Kayron’s sass and fire. Having constant access to Tian for the past two weeks had made him realize the little man wasn’t his only addiction. The medic gave Lewell’yn something darker, something he was beginning to realize he craved as much as what Tian gave him.
Plaguing hell, I don’t have time for this. Shite, I may not even be fucking sane enough to manage the rest of this mission.
The craving burned just under the surface of his skin, as irritating as a slowly spreading rash. It had become damned distracting. It flared up at unpredictable times. It drew his attention when he needed to bring full concentration to bear on this fucking impossible mission. Lewell’yn hissed in displeasure. It was a damned weakness to crave them both so much.
For fuck’s sake, I haven’t got time for either of them right now.
Lewell’yn lifted Tian off the table, one arm across his lightly sculpted chest, the other around his tiny waist. He was slamming into the little man now, forcing gasps of pleasure from his lover’s mouth. He canted his hips just so, ruthlessly striking Tian’s prostate with each brutal thrust. The little man’s hole fluttered around Lewell’yns cock, warning that he was about to marinate the stir-fry in cum. Lewell’yn took a step back from the table, cupping his hand over the head of Tian’s slender cock just in time to prevent him from spraying his release over the vegetables.
I fucking hate Jeram’s biscuits. They’re hard enough to break teeth on.
Half a dozen ragged thrusts later Lewell’yn felt the inexorable approach of his orgasm. He bit down on the sweetly musky nape beneath his mouth, high, right at the hair line, muffling his shout of completion in damp silk of Tian’s hair. Lewell’yn pulled out, but waited until he was sure the little chefs’ legs were steady enough to hold him up before releasing his hold on the smaller man. Then he grabbed a cloth off the table to wipe himself down.
He tucked his cock away as he spoke.
“You may want ta put your pants back on Peaches. Jeram will be here to help you finish the meal up in about five minutes.”
Resuming his post against the far wall of the kitchen Lewell’yn continued to wrestle with his twin addictions.