Don't Read in the Closet: Volume Four (15 page)

desire to make something from your touch.”

Camael’s lips pressed a soft kiss to Beau’s shoulder, hot through

the fabric of his shirt. “But we do seek to protect, and no one needs

protection more than a muse that all seek to drain. Here, in the

permanent gallery, you are safe.”

“And here with you?” Beau asked softly, even as he moved into

the hands moving teasingly along his body.

“Protected. Cherished,” Tamael replied, and Camael added,

“Fucked.”

Beau laughed, and finally managed to make his own hands move,

reaching up to touch them for the first time. Their skin was warm,

smooth, almost tingling against his skin. It sounded too good to be

true: men who wanted him just for him, who would keep the rest at

bay, who did not want him to be their muse.

That there was two of them … well, it was hardly the first time

he’d done a threesome, and he’d always liked them. He liked being in

the middle, liked being surrounded. “So fuck me,” he said, because

that felt like the thing to say, even without his cock doing all the

thinking. In a place like the gallery, it seemed to be the signature on

the contract.

“Say you want to stay, say you trade your power for Silenus’

protection,” Camael murmured.

Don’t Read in the Closet – volume four 84

“I do,” Beau said. “I want to stay. I give my power to Silenus, in

return for his protection.” The words rippled with power, and he

thought he heard a husky laugh of satisfaction that was neither of the

angels—but then it all went away, overtaken by the hot mouth on his,

the second mouth on the back of his neck where fingers had been only

a moment ago. They were hot, so hot, pressed up against him, and

Beau wanted more—wanted his clothes gone, wanted to feel them

completely.

Seeming to sense his thoughts, the angels drew back enough to

remove his clothes, tossing them aside piece by piece, discarding their

own briefs. Naked, nothing but golden skin and dark hair and silver

eyes, they fell upon him again, hands and mouths everywhere, nipping

his shoulder, tongue dragging across his nipples, one hand fondling

his balls, another stroking his cock.

Beau tried to give back all that he was given, but they only

whispered soft words of endearment, of protecting, cherishing. He

whimpered and held fast as Camael plundered his mouth, as Tamael

rubbed up against him from behind, cock leaving damp trails on his

skin. When Camael pulled away, Beau was turned, and Tamael took

his turn kissing Beau breathless. They tasted similar, of red wine and

honeysuckle, some sharp beneath the surface that he could not name.

Perhaps it was simply the flavor of angels.

He should be more disconcerted, he should be freaking out, but it

was hard to work up a good panic about something that felt a lot like

coming home. They pulled away, making him whimper, laughing in

that soft, warm way of theirs. He thought they would head for the

sofa, or maybe somewhere else entirely, but instead they only moved

to the floor.

Beau wound up splayed over Camael, stretched out on the

hardwood beneath him, and he opened his mouth to say something,

but instead only wound up tasting Camael’s skin. They were warm,

nearly hot, and he could not get enough of it. He moved his way

slowly down Camael’s body, lapping and sucking, occasionally biting,

Don’t Read in the Closet – volume four 85

all the while aware of the hands upon him, mapping his skin with

fingers that felt like they burned, half-surprised they did not leave

marks on him.

When he reached Camael’s cock, Beau didn’t hesitate, just

swallowed him down and began to suck, putting lips and tongue and

throat to work in a way that all his lovers had praised, even if it was

never enough to keep them around once inspiration had struck.

They whispered words he didn’t understand, but they thrummed

along his skin, made him shiver and moan around Camael’s cock. He

startled as warm fingers slid down his ass, one slick finger pushing

inside him. Beau pushed back, eager for more, even as he continued to

suck Camael’s off. One finger quickly became two, became three,

until he finally pulled off Camael’s cock and said, “Fuck me already,

angel.”

Tamael laughed, and murmured something about tying him up

that Beau only half heard before Camael was drawing his attention

back to his neglected dick. Chuffing softly in amusement, Beau went

back to what he’d been doing. A moment later, Tamael was pushing

inside him, so slowly it drove him made, made him groan around

Camael’s cock. Finally, after entirely too much teasing, Tamael began

to fuck him in earnest, pulling out and thrusting back in hard,

pounding into him, hazily making Beau wish they were on a more

comfortable surface but the thought slid away like quicksilver as his

attention narrowed to being thoroughly fucked.

Which of them came first, he couldn’t honestly say, focused only

on the hot hand that stroked him off as Camael filled his mouth and

Tamale slammed one last time into his ass, fingers tightening on

Beau’s hip as he came.

They let him go, and Camael sat up and drew him into a long kiss,

hand curved around his sweat-slick shoulder. When Camael let him

go, Beau turned his head to take a kiss from Tamael, completely

uncaring that his mouth was sore from being so well used. Tamael

drew back, then leaned over his shoulder to kiss Camael, and Beau’s

Don’t Read in the Closet – volume four 86

spent cock twitched at the sight. How had he not made them do that

sooner?

He wondered what else they had done together, would do together

for and with him. “You’re beautiful,” he said when they looked at him

again, flushed and mussed and truly the best thing he’d ever laid eyes

on.

They laughed, a self-deprecating tone to it. “We are but pale

imitations of what we once were,” Camael said, and turned so that

Beau could see his back, the long scars where, he realized, they’d once

had wings. “Falling strips away much of what we were, though not all

of it.”

“I like you as you are,” Beau said. “Too grand and I think I’d be

afraid to touch you—and I think I wouldn’t be allowed.”

Smiling, each taking a turn kissing him, they murmured soft

agreements. More of their strange, soft words, that elusive language

he could not understand, filled the room, moved over his skin. He

didn’t realize until they dragged him to his feet and over to the couch,

however, that the words had cleaned him, that they were all in their

underwear—him in black, them in white. He laughed. “Is there a

point?”

“We like to pretend we have some dignity, being guardians,”

Tamael said, settling back on the couch, dragging Beau to lie against

his side. He obeyed, sprawled against the bright orange and yellow

cushions, legs propped on the arm of the sofa. Beau started to make

room for Camael, but stopped when he made a dismissive motion and

happily settled on the floor in front of them, idly resting his head

against Tamael’s thigh, propping his arm on Beau’s leg.

They talked to him, explained more of the gallery and how it

worked, but bit by bit the words ceased to penetrate, the warmth and

comfort overtaking him. Energy sapped by the strange turn his day

had taken, Beau finally gave in to sleep, surrounded by the warmth of

his angels.

Don’t Read in the Closet – volume four 87

THE END

Author bio:
The Gallery
is a verse in which I’ve played before. If

you’ve not read them before, but would like to, the other Gallery

stories can be found here on my website:

http://maderr.com/?page_id=339

After the story,

Don’t Read in the Closet – volume four 88

check out the

special
illustrations

by L.C. Chase.

Charles Edward – HEROTICA: PHOTON’S STORY (Superheroes)

Genre:
fantasy

Tags:
superhero, SF, probable-HEA, enemies-

Dear Author,

to-lovers

I have a slight superhero

Words:
7,467

fetish. I don’t really care

what you write as long as it

HEROTICA: PHOTON’S STORY

is fun and all that…

by Charles Edward

Just for inspiration/possible

story (but not necessary for

WE ARRIVED at Boston’s Faneuil Hall in

answering this letter).

the usual way, which is to say that Adonis flew

The Hero and his nemesis

on his own and the rest of us traveled in a flying

(or is it?)

bubble of energy woven by Hardlight’s power

[PHOTO: Three cartoon

gloves.

images. The first man is

heavily muscled, red-haired

We

were

Adonis,

Miracle

Maiden,

with small vandyke beard.

Hardlight, Swiss Miss, Superego, and Photon.

He wears long dark-red

The United States military’s number one super-

gloves, a red eye mask that

extends over his throat, and

ops team: Liberty and Justice.

nothing else. The second is

Our orders were to capture a band of super-

bald, smiling, light eyes

gleaming. His costume is

criminals called the Injustifiers. Moments had

black fabric and gold metal

passed since 9-1-1 callers reported them in

plate, and blue light escapes

public, setting up what looked like dangerous

from one raised cupped

tech. We were there to prevent whatever

hand. The third of a team of

superheroes.]

mayhem they planned to cause.

So I was thinking enemies

As always, Adonis gave the bad guys a

turned allies turned lovers

chance to give up their props and surrender.

when they have to team up

And as always, they laughed. Their leader, a

against these guys.

super scientist who called himself Doctor

Again I am easy, just like

superheroes.

Malady, fiddled with something that stuck out