23. Theo

Theo

Tonight has been… amazing. I never really thought I'd missed out not going to clubs or out drinking with friends. Or by not having friends at all. Okay, that's a lie. I knew I was missing out, but I'd steadfastly tried to convince myself that it was okay. I had more; I had my gift, my work.

Tonight confirmed how very wrong I was. The music, the dancing, the energy. I wanted to eat it up, gobble it down, consume it into every molecule of my being.

It was electric.

I felt beautiful, wanted, with all those hands and eyes all over me. The frenzied energy of the club, being connected with magic again. Maybe even a little too much.

It happened again. The flicker of power coming back, flexing like an underdeveloped muscle with no control. I'd zapped that fae who tried to get between Roan and I. I think I even zapped Roan at one point when I'd been too consumed in the moment.

And Gods, Roan , when he finally joined Seldon on the dance floor, he had shattered the image I had of him. But he'd only pieced it back together—bigger, stronger, better. Hotter . If his stern lectures and bossy affection wasn't enough, now I know the unspeakable ways he can use his body.

It was obscene how he could wind and writhe himself around. And those hips… ugh. His impossibly tight white shirt and leather harness hadn't restricted him at all as he rolled his body behind me all night, pressing me against him, driving me insane until my skin was on fire, and I was drunk with lust for him.

Seldon had warned me when he was primping and priming me, getting us ready to go out, to lay off the drinks, especially if I wanted to make the most of my night with Roan. I'd taken his advice to heart, laying off alcohol after our first few rounds, and now I am more than glad because I don't know if I could have handled being drunk on top of the sensory overload of the night.

We walk back to the hotel hand in hand—the salty sea air is warm, but much cooler than the intense heat of the club. The walk, in the relative quiet of the night once we leave the party district, cools the burning need to get my hands on Roan naked, letting me get my body and head back under control.

With the moon silver and round in the sky, it is kind of romantic. We haven't even talked, just walked silently together, our bodies bumping together occasionally as we seek more connection between us. But then some drunken idiot stumbles past us and violently throws up in the gutter under a light pole as we pass.

Roan pulls me away from the man doubled over, heaving his guts out onto the pavement, rescuing me from the splatter. His friends, also drunk and obnoxious, apologise loudly as they collect their friend and carry him away. Thankfully, that's the only hazard on our way back and we make it back to our hotel, splatter free and safe.

The bench of the kitchenette is hard against my back as I lean against it, staring out the window at the lights bobbing in the water. The view from here really is spectacular. By unspoken agreement, we left the lights off when we came in, making our way to the kitchen for a glass of water.

Roan drains his glass and, in the dim light of the full moon and surrounding lights from town, I can see the way his throat bobs as he swallows. Anticipation simmers between us, but now that we're out of the club, neither one of us seems to be in a hurry to act on it, preferring to let it bloom in the atmosphere.

"How about a nightcap on the balcony?" Roan's voice is quiet, not a whisper but not too much more. It's still startling in the quiet of the hotel room; my ears haven't adjusted to the silence yet. I place my glass carefully on the bench.

"Sure, I think they left some wine in the fridge?"

I realise my hands are shaking as I open the door, hunting for the bottle while Roan pulls two wine glasses from the shelf and gives them a quick wipe. I have to squeeze my hands a couple of times to disperse the tingling and grab the bottle. We make quick work of pouring the glasses and head out the sliding door onto the balcony. Roan takes a moment to follow me, pausing to do something in the room before I hear the sound of the glass sliding closed behind me.

Considering it's past three a.m., I should probably be more tired than I am, but I'm wired, wide awake. The balcony is larger than I expected, with a tinted glass barricade and two wooden sun loungers with plush cream cushions. A small table sits between the loungers, so after a sip of the wine—which I barely taste—I walk to the glass to take in the view.

From here, we have a perfect view of the seaside harbour. There are too many lights to see the stars like we do back home, back at the tavern, but with the moon glistening over the water, the smell of the salty sea on the breeze, it's still pretty.

Heat encompasses me as Roan comes up behind me, enclosing my body in his, pressing himself into me until I am flush against the barricade. His thick arms wrap around my waist.

I am trapped, pinned between his hard body and the glass. A shiver runs down my spine, the heat from his skin burning through my nearly non-existent clothing, the sheer crop top offering no protection against the fire sizzling through me.

Roan's thick fingers flex on my waist, palming my hips, pinky fingers stroking the hyper-sensitive flesh where the skin meets the waistband of my shorts. The anticipation that had been an amorphous cloud around us has condensed into a pulsating ball in my stomach.

Not for the first time, I curse my height when I feel Roan's cock, thick and hard as steel against my lower back. When his lips fall to my neck, pressing hot, open mouth kisses to my skin, I cry out softly, my head falling to the side to allow more access. He licks and bites his way down, and then back up, excruciatingly slowly, his beard teasing the skin as his mouth trails along.

When he bites down on the sensitive point he knows is my weakness, the ball of anticipation explodes in my stomach, flooding my body with heat so heavy I collapse with it, falling entirely into Roan's embrace.

My laxness doesn't escape his notice, and he subtly shifts me, lifting me so my toes are no longer on the ground, entirely held by Roan and the pressure of him against me and the glass.

"Did you have fun tonight?" His words brush against my ear, and I whimper, nodding, unable to summon a coherent verbal response. He chuckles softly—I can feel the vibrations ricochet through me, goosebumps exploding over my skin. My cock is desperate and needy in my shorts, pressed painfully hard against the barricade. A roll of Roan's hips, his own dick now firmly lined up with my ass as I dangle in front of him, has me throbbing dangerously, leaking in my barely existent underwear.

I brace my hands against the metal railing lining the barricade. It's cold against my palms, grounding me, keeping me from becoming the mind-numbed puddle Roan's hands are reducing me to. Pinned as I am, his hands are free to roam, drifting over my skin, teasing in tantalising strokes. One of his hands finds my nipple, and he takes it between his fingers, pinching it tight until I hiss at the pain, and then he releases it, and the rush of blood to my abused little nub has me groaning loud enough to wake the neighbours. Not that I care. Fuck them. They can watch as he takes me. They all can.

Lips sucking at my neck, branding me as his, Roan tortures my other nipple, pinching and pulling, before alternating back to the other, while images of him fucking me here on the balcony, where anybody could see his big body taking mine, using me, flood through my mind. A feral groan rips from my throat.

"What do you want, beautiful?" Roan kisses his way across the back of my neck to the other side to continue his ministrations there. "What do you need?"

"You, need you."

Roan's groan is positively feral, tearing his lips from my neck. My desperate hand gropes blindly behind me, reaching to pull him back to me. Groping wherever I can reach, my fingers bury themselves in his hair, loose from his bun now, tugging impatiently. But he doesn't give me what I want, grinding his hips against my ass until the pressure of the glass against my leaking cock makes me hiss.

"You want me, is that it? Want me to fuck you here, on the balcony, where anyone can hear your cries? Hear you begging for it?"

His mouth is back against me, whispering hot words against my ear. He licks along my neck, trailing his tongue against my skin until I shiver.

Without warning, he drops me so my feet are back on the ground, but my jelly legs are not prepared, and I stumble. Not too far though, it's impossible, because Roan is right there behind me, his big hands gripping my hips, massaging as he pulls at them, tugging me with him as he steps back, leaving me bent forward, ass pushed out, still braced on the cool metal of the barrier.

Those same hands leave my hips, groping their way across my ass, toying with the edges of the denim of my shorts, until one hand finally, finally reaches around to cup my aching dick in a firm grip just this side of too much. I whimper pathetically at his touch, desperate for the friction.

He traces my length, down to where the head has escaped the confines of my underwear, breaking free of these fucking shorts, leaking onto my thigh. One fat finger glides over my head, collecting the pre-cum pooling there.

When he swipes that finger over my lips, pushing his way into my mouth so I can taste myself on him, my nonsense murmurings turn into a guttural groan, lightening hot lust bolting through my body.

"That's right, baby, you want it, don't you? Get my finger nice and wet for me."

I suck on his finger like I want to suck his cock, swirling and massaging with my tongue, gathering saliva in my mouth to get it as soaked as I can. I chase it when he withdraws it from my lips, unashamedly seeking its return. Roan just chuckles, almost gloating. I think I can hear him mumbling something about being desperate, but I'm too far gone to care. Just a bundle of nerves and heat and wanting. How can I be mad when it's true?

When his strong fingers deftly unbutton my shorts, shoving them down, fingers accidentally brushing the sensitive spots there, it drives me even closer to the edge.

" What is this ?" His voice is filled with awe, pulling back just enough to catch a glimpse of the skimpy black g-string, fingers trailing the edges, until they dip into the crack of my ass.

It's too much, if he doesn't fuck me now I am going to come pathetically in my underwear. Sure, it'll be one of the hottest orgasms of my life, but I need him inside me. His fingers leave my crack, not even brushing against my hole to firmly grip my exposed ass cheeks, squeezing them in rough circles, so the night air brushes against me instead of him. Horny frustration overwhelms me until I just can't take it anymore. How the fuck can he be so patient when I am climbing the walls with need?

"Roan, fuck me, or I swear to the Gods I will do it myself." My threat would probably be a lot more impressive if I wasn't panting like an animal in heat, humping myself against the air.

But he just laughs. Laughs!

"Patience, brat."

A firm hand swats my ass, and I jump, squealing. My cock jumps too, throbbing in my tiny underwear. He's teased me about spanking me before, and, even though I've never tried it, I've always thought it was kind of hot.

But my imagination had never quite captured the sting of his hand, the flush blooming on my ass, the way it sends shivers skittering all over my body. My eyes flutter shut with my groan while I rise to my toes, arching my back to taunt him to do it again. To mark me.

Roan doesn't miss any details of my reaction, the air shifts behind me as the last threads of his control fray, and his magic seeps out around us. His presence feels bigger, his hands rougher as they squeeze the reddened flesh of my ass, toying with the string between my cheeks. There is a rough snorting breath behind me and I crane my head to take him in.

The light is dim here on the balcony, and the harsh shadows and silver moonlight only highlight the savagery in his gaze, his eyes almost black, laser focused on my ass -on my hole- as he rhythmically palms my cheeks.

Roan has completely given over to his berserker side now, feral, primal. His nostrils flare, as if scenting his prey, the raised veins marking his body as his body floods with power. His face is harsh, tight with focus, like a predator about to launch itself at its prey. And more than anything, I want him to consume me.

He drops to his knees with a thud, hands ripping the flimsy underwear from my body with such force I vaguely register the tear, but I am too focused on him and his breath on my skin, on the way the air around him is moving, flowing out like tendrils.

Through hooded eyes, I watch him lean forward, like slow motion, and when his bearded cheeks are nestled between my ass, I whimper, my upper body collapsing to hang from my hands, completely surrendered to him.

My cry echoes through the silent night when his tongue darts out to lave at my hole.

" Fuuuck !" I press my face into my bicep, trying to not shove my ass back into his face while he works me open with that magic tongue, licking and nibbling at my rim. His fingers nearly tear me apart as he spreads me for his feast, but they soothe where they dig. One hand stroking closer and closer to my hole and the other my aching cock.

A satisfied grumble vibrates from deep within his chest when he feels just how hard I am for him, and he takes full advantage of the way my cock is leaking for him, scooping up the pre-cum dripping from the over-sensitive head to jerk me.

One finger breaches my softened rim, and I almost explode right there, but he only chuckles devilishly and squeezes the tip of my dick between his forefinger and thumb, forcing back the overwhelming rush.

"So tight, so hot . I can't wait to be inside you." He fucks me with one finger for what feels like eternity, until he finds my prostate, stroking it relentlessly.

I am powerless to do anything but take it, my legs trembling in their attempts to ride his filthy hands. When I finally find a rhythm, the brush of his beard where it is pressed against my ass tickles as he turns his head, sinking his teeth into the flesh there. The pain stings, but the flood of pleasure overwhelms the burn, especially as he slides another finger in to stretch me.

He continues to tease me mercilessly, stretching me, stroking me, licking, biting, taking me to the very edge and bringing me until I am a quivering, broken mess, begging and pleading, for what I don't even know anymore.

"Are you ready, brat? Did you like teasing all those men tonight? Having them watch you? Want you? Touch you?" His voice gravelly, deeper, harsher, he looms over me now, crouched over me where I hang, breath tickling my neck where his nose trails around the sensitive outer shell of my ear, he is everywhere, those tendrils of his magic brushing over my fevered skin continuing his torment.

His cock is like a steel rod in his pants, and I am vaguely aware that he is still dressed behind me, the fabric of his clothes, the leather of his harness, and the scratchy top I have managed to keep on, rough against my skin. A tug of his hand in my curls brings me back to the moment.

" Yes !" I manage to choke the word out, and I don't recognise my voice. That breathy, wanton voice isn't mine. It's Roan's. Only he can draw it out of me. The way he owns my body with his touch.

"That's right. You fucking loved it."

His lips are hot against my neck, pressing fierce kisses there. "But you're mine, aren't you, brat? All mine."

"Only yours, Roan. Only ever yours. Please , Roan."

The snarl that tears from him is the single hottest sound I've ever heard in my existence. He must use his magic, or I am officially delirious from needing his cock, because one moment we are standing and he is still fully clothed, and the next he is naked and we are on the lounger, me astride his waist. He grapples to rip my top from me while he devours my mouth, his tongue fucking me like I'm dying for his cock to.

He grunts when I try to sit up to actually get the flimsy crop top over my head, and he solves the dilemma by just ripping it off me instead. I smile against his lips, kissing him back harder, and shuffle my body down, sliding my ass over his cock.

He has to hunch uncomfortably because of the height difference but it makes his abs pop to do so, so I trace my hands lovingly over the smooth bumps of his muscles and the ridges of raised veins under his skin. I can feel the power pulsing through him, the fragile tether of restraint in his magic. It crackles under my touch.

Our ridiculous need for oxygen finally forces us apart. I delve one hand further between us, gripping our dicks together, stroking them as one. The veiny ridges lacing his cock feel divine against me, my head dropping back, eyes squeezed tight in pleasure as I hump into my hand. Roan's hands grip my hips, urging me on, heels digging into the cushion of the lounger to thrust up with me.

"Lube?" There is plenty of pre-cum between us, and he'd stretched me with his fingers and mouth, but Roan is still girthier than I've ever had, and it's been a while.

The harsh, predatory look fades for just a moment as he tries to register what I'm asking, but then he pulls it together, using his magic to drag his jeans closer so he can snap them up. His movements are so jerky and rushed as he digs in the pockets to retrieve his wallet and the lube, the giddy urge to laugh bubbles up inside me, spilling over so my laugh reverberates through the warm night air.

"What's so funny, brat?" He flicks the lube packet towards me, and it rebounds off my chest to land on his belly, but I ignore it, capturing his frowning face in my hands and leaning forward.

This is the moment . I'd avoided it all day, the talk, saying the words, naming what it was between us. Before I can second guess the impulse, I brush my nose over his cheeks, letting my joy, the deep satisfaction of this precise moment fill me, the rush and urgency gone, just this perfect, magical and stupidly mundane moment between us.

I want to bottle it, preserve it, hoard and guard it. Roan's brows are furrowed, deep creases between them as his intensely dark eyes track every movement. Holding his gaze and his jaw between my hands, I drop all the masks and pretences, everything guarding how I feel about this man, and what he means to me. I watch the emotions play over his face, the confusion, the shock and finally the wonder. And then I see it, there, the unspoken words and promises.

Before I can say anything, his strong hands pull me down, crushing me to his chest, his lips find mine in a kiss full of sensual heat. His tongue slides against mine, and I whimper softly, tugging on his beard, trying to get closer. It doesn't take long for hands to begin to wander again, for the kiss to shift, from soft and slow to hot and urgent, the embers of our earlier frantic wanting smouldering back to life.

I fumble between our bellies to find the lube, and in my haste to tear it open, I manage to spill more than a little. I curse as I scoop it up, shimmying back along Roan's stomach and hips to settle on his thighs. Through half-closed eyes, he watches, every muscle locked in anticipation, hands gripping the frame of the recliner above his head, as I slick his straining, vein-covered cock with my lube covered hand.

A harsh hiss erupts from him when I trace over the sensitive V under the flared head, his hips thrusting on reflex. I watch, fascinated, as his cock jerks and pre-come leaks from him. Unconsciously, I lick my lips, desperate for just a taste.

"Don't even think about it, brat." Roan's voice is strained and harsh, threaded with need. "I'm too close." Only centimetres from his dick, it jerks toward me, completely at odds with his demands. I smirk, licking my lips again.

"Are you not able to keep up with me old man? Maybe I should go back to the club. Find someone young enough to—"

My yelp of surprise is shockingly loud—even more shocking is the way that Roan has snatched me up, his fingers digging into my side, holding me so my hole is hovering right at the tip of his cock, teasing my entrance. My hands brace on his pecs, and I glare down at him.

"You were saying?" His voice is smug, and so is his smile when my cock visibly throbs at his manhandling. Unable to let him have his win, I bear down with my body, though I'm not sure if it really counts as getting one up on him.

There is a slight burn as the wide head of his cock breaches me, and I shiver at the thrill of it. Roan's fingers rub firm circles on my ass as I slide down his length, his eyes squeezed shut, the cords of his neck tight with tension.

I was one hundred-percent right, those ridges feel fucking amazing as I settle him deep inside me. When my ass finally rests on his hips, I give myself a moment to enjoy the feel of it, being filled completely by him. My toes dig into the cool tiles of the balcony when I tentatively rock my hips, testing the motion. Roan's fingers leave my ass, fluttering restlessly over my body stroking everywhere.

"So fucking beautiful." His whispered words sound like a prayer, urging me to move. His eyes are hot on me, and so I move again, experimentally at first until I find the rhythm and angle to drive myself, and him, wild. The animalistic slap of my ass against his hips as he rises to drive himself into me works in time to the thwack of my cock against his belly. We move our body as one, desperately chasing our release.

So caught up in the moment and the feel of his hands everywhere, it takes too long to realise that it isn't just his hands stroking me. His magic, those tendrils from earlier, are everywhere, stroking me, teasing my flesh, driving me insane. I can feel the flush heating my body as my orgasm builds, his cock driving relentlessly against my prostate. My thighs burn, and my body aches with pressure building inside me.

Leaning forward, I grab hold of his horns, stroking the base in the way that I know drives him wild, while I devour his mouth, trying to offload some of this feeling. But Roan is relentless, raising his hips to drive into me harder, shifting his hand between us to grip my cock in his hand. One pump, two, that's all it takes, and I'm crying out in the dark of the night against his lips, my come slick and hot between us.

"Fucking finally." I can feel his growl as his forehead presses hard to mine, pinning my face to his with one hand pulling hard at my hair as he cries out silently, punching his hips up one last time. His cock jerks hard inside me, swelling and throbbing as his release pulses.

Our breathing is loud and harsh, the rise and fall of Roan's chest, the pounding beat of his heart is like a calming sea beneath me, my chest pressed against his, squishing my cum between us. It gives me a strange sort of satisfaction, like I have marked him as he's marked me, because he has.

It feels like I'm branded, Roan's , body and spirit. His fingers drift lazily up and down my spine, soothing the electric sizzle left there.

Vaguely, I'm aware I should say something, but in the afterglow I can't seem to find the words, too content to bask in the rightness of it all, draped over him, soaking up his steady, calming essence. Thankfully, Roan feels the same, only moving to press a kiss to the crown of my head, once, twice.

Sleep creeps in the edges of our bubble, the dark reaching its peak, just before the light returns for the day. Too exhausted and satiated to fight, I let Roan's hands and the cocoon we've built around us soothe me to sleep.