Excerpt 2: Dragon & Crow Volume 1:
While waiting for his sensei to show up for his Shotokan class, Michael meets his mysterious assailant.
“You speak English.”
Michael kept his tone free from accusation even as part of him wondered if the boy had enjoyed his prank. “How’s the arm?” he questioned, stopping about six feet away. The teen looked up and Michael felt the full impact of his luminous eyes.
The answers to Michael’s inquiries were given in an indifferent tone.
The boy stared coolly at Michael for a moment before dropping his eyes to the floor. His hair slid forward to curtain his face.
“Somewhat. Okay.”
So not a lost fawn, just a snotty brat. At a loss as to how to proceed now that the kid stood before him, Michael hesitated. A spark of irritation rose at his seducer’s casual attitude. Squashing it, he held out his gloved hand and spoke formally.
“We really haven’t met. I’m Michael Black. I’m sorry about your arm.”
When the boy simply stared at him, ignoring the offered hand, Michael shrugged, bowed slightly and turned away. “I’ve got to keep going or I’ll cool down.”
So, no name, no explanation or anything, huh? Michael yanked his gloves more firmly into place. Maybe he’s daft? Giving his irritation free range, he headed for the bags, determined to ignore the churlish youth and continue his drills. Suddenly, he felt a tug on his hair.
“Hey!”
He spun around and froze. The kid was less than a foot away. Guileless, golden eyes held Michael captive before they dropped to the boy’s open palm, which held a broken elastic. Tossing the tie to the floor, the boy reached out and began pulling the loose strands of Michael’s hair back around his face.
What the hell? Too stunned to move, Michael dropped his gaze to the slender feet approaching his own. Beautiful, high-arched feet with--some serious calluses? Michael stared at the bruised knots of flesh, absently wondering what kicks created them. All questions ceased when Kiyoshi’s lips pressed against his.
Warmth speared his abdomen as the boy leaned up, nipping then lapping at his mouth. A slick tongue probed the seam of his lips and Michael automatically parted them, allowing the searching appendage to tangle with his. The simple concession was all it took for his spark of anger and confusion to morph into something else. He gasped when the amorous tongue alternated neat cat-like swipes with luxurious strokes in a thorough exploration of his mouth.
Senses reeling, Michael slowly slid his hands down the boy’s back to cup a taut, muscular ass. The sweet pull between them intensified as the faint scent of apricots made itself known. Groaning, Michael pulled the boy closer suckling at the nectar of his tongue with an urgency that bordered on desperation. The pliant body arched against him, a stiff member lightly brushing his own.
Welcoming the confirmation that he wasn’t the only one experiencing the insatiable need, Michael crushed the teen fully against him. He maneuvered the youth until their cocks nestled, his damp drawstrings and the Kiyoshi’s worn denim barely a barrier to their growing swells. Knees nearly buckling at the waves of passion possessing his body Michael struggled to retain reason.
This is crazy, I’m burning up! We can’t do this—JJ and the white belts are right next door—Sensei is way overdue! Feverishly clawing at the soft strands trailing down the supple back, Michael had the brief thought that he had been bewitched, that some kind of spell had been cast on him. Then his body simply ignited. A zillion prickles of apricot-scented pleasure liquefied into a focused stream that rushed to his balls and threatened to erupt from his cock. Michael groaned, heard an answering moan and then panic overrode the passion burning through his body.
What the hell is happening? I don’t—I don’t even know this guy! His brain stammered, torn between sinking into the mind-blowing sensations the youth’s touch wrought, and abject humiliation at his desire to rut like an animal on the floor of his sensei’s dojo. Attempting to regain control Michael gripped the teen’s shoulders and pushed him away. More forcefully than he’d intended, perhaps, as the move caused Kiyoshi to crumple to his knees.
The youth sat there looking up at Michael, his glistening ruby lips slightly parted, his golden eyes heavy with passion, utterly beautiful in his submissive posture. Insides blazing, Michael backpedaled, pumping his palms out to warn the boy off.
“Who the hell are you?” he whispered harshly. “And what the fuck are you doing to me?”
Michael kept his tone free from accusation even as part of him wondered if the boy had enjoyed his prank. “How’s the arm?” he questioned, stopping about six feet away. The teen looked up and Michael felt the full impact of his luminous eyes.
The answers to Michael’s inquiries were given in an indifferent tone.
The boy stared coolly at Michael for a moment before dropping his eyes to the floor. His hair slid forward to curtain his face.
“Somewhat. Okay.”
So not a lost fawn, just a snotty brat. At a loss as to how to proceed now that the kid stood before him, Michael hesitated. A spark of irritation rose at his seducer’s casual attitude. Squashing it, he held out his gloved hand and spoke formally.
“We really haven’t met. I’m Michael Black. I’m sorry about your arm.”
When the boy simply stared at him, ignoring the offered hand, Michael shrugged, bowed slightly and turned away. “I’ve got to keep going or I’ll cool down.”
So, no name, no explanation or anything, huh? Michael yanked his gloves more firmly into place. Maybe he’s daft? Giving his irritation free range, he headed for the bags, determined to ignore the churlish youth and continue his drills. Suddenly, he felt a tug on his hair.
“Hey!”
He spun around and froze. The kid was less than a foot away. Guileless, golden eyes held Michael captive before they dropped to the boy’s open palm, which held a broken elastic. Tossing the tie to the floor, the boy reached out and began pulling the loose strands of Michael’s hair back around his face.
What the hell? Too stunned to move, Michael dropped his gaze to the slender feet approaching his own. Beautiful, high-arched feet with--some serious calluses? Michael stared at the bruised knots of flesh, absently wondering what kicks created them. All questions ceased when Kiyoshi’s lips pressed against his.
Warmth speared his abdomen as the boy leaned up, nipping then lapping at his mouth. A slick tongue probed the seam of his lips and Michael automatically parted them, allowing the searching appendage to tangle with his. The simple concession was all it took for his spark of anger and confusion to morph into something else. He gasped when the amorous tongue alternated neat cat-like swipes with luxurious strokes in a thorough exploration of his mouth.
Senses reeling, Michael slowly slid his hands down the boy’s back to cup a taut, muscular ass. The sweet pull between them intensified as the faint scent of apricots made itself known. Groaning, Michael pulled the boy closer suckling at the nectar of his tongue with an urgency that bordered on desperation. The pliant body arched against him, a stiff member lightly brushing his own.
Welcoming the confirmation that he wasn’t the only one experiencing the insatiable need, Michael crushed the teen fully against him. He maneuvered the youth until their cocks nestled, his damp drawstrings and the Kiyoshi’s worn denim barely a barrier to their growing swells. Knees nearly buckling at the waves of passion possessing his body Michael struggled to retain reason.
This is crazy, I’m burning up! We can’t do this—JJ and the white belts are right next door—Sensei is way overdue! Feverishly clawing at the soft strands trailing down the supple back, Michael had the brief thought that he had been bewitched, that some kind of spell had been cast on him. Then his body simply ignited. A zillion prickles of apricot-scented pleasure liquefied into a focused stream that rushed to his balls and threatened to erupt from his cock. Michael groaned, heard an answering moan and then panic overrode the passion burning through his body.
What the hell is happening? I don’t—I don’t even know this guy! His brain stammered, torn between sinking into the mind-blowing sensations the youth’s touch wrought, and abject humiliation at his desire to rut like an animal on the floor of his sensei’s dojo. Attempting to regain control Michael gripped the teen’s shoulders and pushed him away. More forcefully than he’d intended, perhaps, as the move caused Kiyoshi to crumple to his knees.
The youth sat there looking up at Michael, his glistening ruby lips slightly parted, his golden eyes heavy with passion, utterly beautiful in his submissive posture. Insides blazing, Michael backpedaled, pumping his palms out to warn the boy off.
“Who the hell are you?” he whispered harshly. “And what the fuck are you doing to me?”