He didn’t get much farther than trying to wriggle himself back onto the ground before an iron band clamped around his waist and he was hefted up and held to Bel’s chest.
“You cannot give me this too,” Bel complained, raw, furious, glaring at Nicodemus with their faces mere inches apart. Then he cupped the back of Nicodemus’ head in one large hand and took a fierce, breathless kiss from Nicodemus’ slack mouth.
He kept Nicodemus pressed against him, giving Nicodemus no way to escape, not that Nicodemus entertained even a brief thought of leaving. Not during this. Not with Bel taking his breath and his will and every helpless noise he made. This was not how they kissed on stages. Nothing like hurried, absentminded kisses from strangers already on their way out the door.
Bel tangled his fingers in Nicodemus’ hair, his claws scraping against Nicodemus’ ear and the back of his neck. He allowed Nicodemus to catch his breath and then punished for him for the moment of separation, or so it felt to have Bel’s mouth no longer cover his. Bel pressed a fang into Nicodemus’ lower lip, hard enough to feel but not to break the skin, then moved his hand to brush a claw over the stinging bruise he left behind. He watched Nicodemus all the while.
How it must feel to want and to only be able to satisfy that want with looking. Bel thought wanting was a danger and had done it anyway.
Nicodemus darted out his tongue to taste the spot where Bel had bitten him and found it sore and stinging. Then he did it again because the touch sent pleasant shocks through his nerves and because Bel was watching and Nicodemus wanted to give him more. He leaned up as much as he could, until he had to close his eyes though perhaps Bel did not, and offered his mouth again. Bel moved slower this time, not softly, just slower, as though Nicodemus’ eager kiss and bruised lip were to be savored.
A heady idea when Nicodemus was already dizzy and warm. His breathing was restricted with how Bel held him, but he grasped Bel’s collar tight and was tense and relaxed all at once. Bel kissed him and Bel let him breathe before kissing him again, which should have been frightening, but Nicodemus wanted one as much as the other. Bel had him shaking, so he frowned and kissed him back, perhaps inexpertly, because Bel finally tore away from his mouth.
His claws dug into Nicodemus’ skin without breaking it. Nicodemus opened his eyes.
“I will not say sorry,” Bel growled, all fire and starlight.
Nicodemus blinked several times. His lip throbbed. So did the rest of him. He sank his blunt, somewhat-human teeth into his lower lip, testing, then shuddered because it was pleasurable and yet Bel had stopped.
“Are you going to do that again?” Nicodemus was not precisely comfortable dangling in the air like this, but the hold on him was familiar, as was the puzzled, pleased glare Bel gave him, as if he had not expected that reply. “You said you would hurt me,” Nicodemus reminded Bel, touching his tongue to his bottom lip once more, unable to stop himself. “I did not expect the teeth.” His thoughts briefly cleared as he gazed upward. “You have horns too.” He was vaguely betrayed. “You never said.”
“I have more than that.” Bel dragged the pad of his thumb across Nicodemus’ jaw, leaving the tip of his claw at the corner of Nicodemus’ mouth. Nicodemus obediently parted his lips for him, strangely thrilled to keep earning proud, if confused, looks from Bel. But Bel shook his head, tried to growl. “I promised to keep you safe.”
More accurately, he had promised to keep Nicodemus safe during his rut. Not that thatthinghad any real interest in Nicodemus. It might go after him, but only as a way to taunt Bel. That was no less terrifying, but Nicodemus’ frown was for something else.
“You lied.” He had this revelation out loud and bit down on his lip until he felt a sting and wondered if he had broken the skin where Bel had not. “I have said yes,” he pointed out to Bel beneath Bel’s increasingly bright stare, although he had not technically said the word until now, “but you have not devoured me.”
Bel breathed in and said, quietly, as if to himself, “I do not imagine you here.”
It took Nicodemus several moments to follow. “You don’t?” But, in some form, Bel could have had Nicodemus here in the Realm, where anything was possible. “Because you wanted to and it was dangerous?” Bel must want Nicodemus very much to feel fear of that. To feel any sort of fear. “But I’m really here now.” Nicodemus dared to touch Bel’s mouth as Bel had touched his and shivered with pleasure when this earned him a hard kiss that left him feeling like a fallen plum.
“How did you come here?” Bel demanded, claw still pressed to the seam of Nicodemus’ mouth as if he wanted it opened for him always. “No one is allowed here without my permission.”
“I wandered for what felt like forever.” Nicodemus registered his complaint distractedly, noticing the strength of Bel’s throat, the lingering scent of the bar and all those indulgences that clung to him. “Then I got impatient. I wanted you in front of me, and the path ended.” He stretched as much as he could to bring their faces closer. “Will you kiss me again?” he requested playfully when it seemed Bel would not grant him more. Nicodemus would never have tried to tease Holt; Holt would never have done it back. Although the warning press of claws was perhaps not teasing. “Will you do more than kiss me?”
Bel’s expression tightened. “Tell me no, Nicodemus.”
Nicodemus opened his eyes wide although their shared breath had clouded his glasses and he could not see much. “I do not withdraw the yes,” he insisted, wondering if he had brought that look back to Bel’s handsome face. “Are you going to try to make me?”
Without any sensation of movement to prepare him, Nicodemus’ back hit the gnarled trunk of one or several intertwined trees, branches snagging on his trousers as he was wedged between them…or they moved to accommodate him. Claws caught on his clothing, against his neck as Bel tipped Nicodemus’ head up to run the sharp points of his teeth down his throat. Nicodemus had a thought to keep himself upright and hold Bel’s shoulders, but the thought was quickly lost when he found more silky, feathery fur beneath Bel’s shirt collar. He curled his hands there and left the matter of support to Bel.
Bel slid his hands beneath Nicodemus’ thighs. They were bruising tight as well, approaching gentle only for the moments that Bel tugged Nicodemus’ legs around him where he wished them to be.
“Tell me no,” Bel commanded once again, breath hot. His kisses, if they could be called that, were harsh before they were soft, as if he could not choose which impulse to follow. Nicodemus, trying to pull him closer, did not sympathize.
Nicodemus was a moth pinned to a board for study. He could not move without Bel’s say-so, except for his hands, which he found tangled in Bel’s long hair. His heart was racing, but so was Bel’s. Bellikedhim held so, wanted Nicodemus clinging to him and panting into the air. He must, for all his insistence that Nicodemus must not.
“Is this all?” Nicodemus wondered, daring more. Bel tore at his shirt and coat to snarl over the bare skin of his shoulder. “Will you ruin all my clothes?” Nicodemus prompted dreamily, although the repairs and replacements would be costly. Bel snarled again and sucked a kiss at the hollow of Nicodemus’ throat above his collarbone which hurt yet sparked fires. Nicodemus was hot everywhere, kiss-stung in many places, aching at how Bel pressed in close. Bel was broad even when he did not loom in this way. Now, he blocked all else from view. Nicodemus wished to give him everything and writhed in his attempt to spread his legs farther.
Bel held him firmly, refusing to allow even that small movement. Nicodemus might have to ask permission to move. The very idea stole his breath.
“Lamb,” Bel rumbled into the crook of Nicodemus’ neck, slowly bringing his head up to speak against Nicodemus’ mouth, andoh, his voice was deep, “if you won’t say no, then you must beg.”
Nicodemus arched his back from the tree and sank his fingers into the knot of the ribbon at Bel’s nape as all the blood in his body went to his cock. “Please.” The more he said it, the more he liked saying it. “Please, Bel.”
If Bel was surprised, Nicodemus did not care. He writhed more, lifting his hips, and was pushed back for it again, but this time Bel did it with one hand splayed wide over Nicodemus’ stomach. He moved his hand lower when Nicodemus closed his eyes and repeated his plea. “Bel, please. Please, I—”
Bel was impossibly large; his hand felt the same pressed between Nicodemus’ legs. Nicodemus turned his head to exhale a shaky moan only to shudder when Bel nipped the shell of his ear. He did not pierce the skin. Hecouldpierce the skin. “Please,” Nicodemus begged breathlessly, not certain what for, but then shook his head when Bel was rough with the fastenings of his trousers. “Wait! I will finish! Bel, if you touch me now, I’ll—”
