The Brotherhood: Amour Magique Read online

  Beautiful, he thought as he felt his cock, ever ready for the mood and moment, stir to life. If it is half this glorious when I bring my Brotherhood next week, it will truly be all I have promised them.

  No longer reminding him of a writhing, thrashing body with a thumping heartbeat, the club seemed now as soothing as a womb, cradling its occupants with gentle warmth. The sensuality filling the air was one of soft, soothing caresses and long, deft sweeps down warmed skin. The weaving of the music put him in mind of ocean waves, rushing in and out, flowing over his body as it rested in place on a sandy mound.

  Liam sighed, deeply contented.

  The song ended, the lights sparkled in a sudden chaotic whirl, and a sprightlier rhythm began. Still Elven, but one meant to celebrate life instead of savoring it like a fine wine. Laughing to himself, Liam walked down the steps into the heart of Amour. This too is fine -- very fine! He inserted himself into a crowd of dancers, faeries and elves and mages, favoring them with his best smile as they parted to let him in.

  Celebrate, he thought happily, seizing the waistband of one young blond mage and pulling him in for a closer dance. Let us celebrate and sanctify the weekend night that is to come. The mage grinned at him as if he could read Liam’s thoughts. Perhaps he could, though it would take one with great power to do so. He could feel the energy roiling in the mage’s body. Feel his need to be taken, fucked, sucked, and worshiped until the dawn broke over Charleston’s streets and he returned to his normal life.

  “Let me favor you,” Liam whispered, moving in to press a kiss beneath the corner of the mage’s jaw. “You know what I am?”

  The mage stroked Liam’s arms, his back. Their pelvises rocked together to the beat of the music, growing ever more heated. “I do,” the mage said. “Nathan. My name is Nathan. And I want you. I choose you.”

  “Silly child.” Liam bit a small series of kisses down the boy’s naked shoulder, trailing a path down to his nipples. His clever fingers came up to pinch and stroke them into hardened nubs. “The Tear I gave in exchange for a favor hangs above this club, and I wear one around my neck. It is I who chooses you. And it is I who chooses to do this ...”

  Sinking to his knees, Liam raised his hands to the zipper of Nathan’s jeans. The mage hissed a sharply indrawn breath as Liam’s hands brushed over the prominent bulge behind the metal teeth. Chuckling to himself, Liam caressed it, then drew the zipper down click by click. A magnificent cock -- eight full inches, thick as his slender wrist, and uncut -- fell out onto his palm, already sticky at the tip. He suckled it into his mouth and laved it with his tongue, caressing the swollen head as the foreskin drew back.

  The mage danced on, his head thrown back in ecstasy as Liam filled his own mouth with cock. No one knew this art better than he, for no one on Earth had ever had so much practice, or liked it half as much. He took the length deeply into his throat and swallowed, powerful muscles working around the sensitive head of the mage’s organ. His hands cupped and rolled the young man’s balls in their sac, tugging at the crinkled gold hairs surrounding it. A natural blond; Liam favored those above all others. Playful, he drew back and rubbed his cheek against Nathan’s wet length, half-purring, like a giant cat.

  Nathan wove his hands through Liam’s hair and urged him on with soft, panting cries. All around them, caught by the magic, others had dropped to their knees and were undoing their partners’ pants, taking cocks into their mouths and suckling with eager hunger. Like Liam, they licked down the lengths of eager dick, swallowing sticky-salty-sweet pre-come and savoring the taste, smell, and texture of musky flesh.

  Mmm, yes, good, it is so good.

  Liam’s own erection pulsed against his jeans, but he had other plans for it. He could make his member rise again in a heartbeat, but some things were better for the wait. Instead, he would bring this to an end and proceed with his plan. Drawing Nathan fully into his throat again, he bit lightly with his teeth, tugged at the mage’s balls, and swallowed deeply, squeezing the sensitive glans as hard as he could.

  Nathan let out a high, keening wail, hands twitching spasmodically in Liam’s curls. Liam felt the mage’s cock twitch and pulse; then the heavy spurts of semen ran down his throat. He swallowed yet again, lapping at the cock as it emptied its load, until Nathan sagged forward, dragging his hands down to Liam’s shoulders.

  “Thank you,” the mage panted. “It was ... I am ... an honor.”

  Liam’s inner light brightened. The mage would be doubly blessed by Lilith, who delighted to see her children making love and bringing such pleasure to those who craved it. Their honor was her honor, too. He stood, licking a narrow, wet stripe up Nathan’s now damp chest, moistened by the drops of sweat shed while he’d hurtled toward orgasm. Liam finished with a deep, tongue-twisting soul kiss, tasting the mage’s mouth thoroughly and sharing the man’s own flavor with him, before drawing back. “Lilith be with you,” he murmured, making her sign on Nathan’s chest with two fingers.

  Nathan nodded, his eyes wide with wonder, even as he tucked his cock away in his jeans. “Thank you,” he repeated. “Blessed be.”

  “And you.” Well satisfied, his stomach full of come and his own erection throbbing in time to the music, Liam turned and wound his way through the crowd, leaving the mini-orgy there behind him, sucking and licking its way to satiation. He had places to go and people to see yet, but he felt a pleasant bliss working its way through him from the inside out. Lilith’s blessing did, indeed, already rest upon this place. Silas must have hung the Tear where it would be most effective.

  And speaking of Silas ...

  Liam found the narrow, nearly hidden staircase he had taken the other night and climbed it, pausing at every turn to watch the dancers and smile. What he had started, others continued, more and still more joining in this new dance. Swaying to the beat had been replaced by the pumping of hips and the eager lunging of mouths, hands grappling for a hold on tight, firm asses and tugging skillfully on long, hard cocks. Beautiful.

  Up in the private alcove, Silas’s bartender had moved to the edge of his bar, craning his neck for a better look at the dance floor below. When Liam came into view, he jumped almost guiltily and hurried back behind his protective wall of mahogany.

  Liam laughed. Leaning against the bar, he reached out and captured -- what was it? Murray? -- Murray’s chin between two fingers and pulled him forward with a gentle, easy touch. Without a word, he pressed his lips against the man’s, sweeping his tongue lightly across one full lower lip. Mmm. He tasted of cognac and peppermint and sex, as if he had already sampled someone’s delights that evening. And handsome, oh, yes, he was handsome, with his tousled brown hair and all-seeing dark eyes, his way of moving as graceful as a seal through flowing ocean waves ...

  “Murray,” he whispered. “Do not be afraid. I only mean to bring you pleasure. I have wanted this since I saw you a few nights ago. Let us steal a moment, and --”

  “Careful what you steal from my bartender,” Silas’s voice rumbled. “I paid a lot of money to get him to work here. I don’t want him all love struck and following an incubus around instead of serving me.”

  Rather than being insulted, Liam let go of Murray with a laugh. “Silas! I knew that little display would draw your attention from your office.” He gestured behind the bar at the mirror, clearly a two-way object. To Murray, he whispered, “I meant it all, though. There, now, don’t blush. I mean to have you, and soon, but first a little business ...”

  Turning to Silas, he shoved his hands into his pockets and stood with arms akimbo, grinning saucily at him. “A week from tonight,” he said. “Our bargain, for the Tear. My friends, the Brotherhood, have agreed to come and taste to see how good Amour can truly be.”

  Silas eyed him narrowly, then tapped the bar. “That doesn’t give me much time to prepare. If there’s gonna be humans here, the patrons will want to hide themselves. That’s hardly fair to them, come to think of it.”

  “Silas, Silas,” Liam crooned, swayi
ng closer to the man, his hips swinging as he walked. “Surely you’re not going back on our deal? I gave you the Tear freely.” He snapped his fingers, and the crystal appeared in his hand. “I can take it back with just as much ease.”

  Silas’s eyes widened. “No, don’t. Put it back!”

  Liam held the Tear just out of reach. “You will honor our bargain, then?”

  “Yes, yes, I promise. Now -- please!” Silas looked frantic. Sweat broke out on his forehead, and he breathed out in a noisy gasp. No doubt Lilith’s Tear had already doubled his business with its allure and promise of pleasure.

  Smiling at him, Liam tossed the Tear into the air and watched it vanish. He felt a thrill of arousal settle over him as it landed back in its place, wherever it had been mounted.

  “Yes,” Liam said, voice soft, “You see? Your good fortune depends on keeping me happy. I want the best, and nothing but the best, for my Brotherhood this coming Saturday night. Do what you must to keep them happy, but happy they must be. Are we understood?”

  “We’re understood.” Silas backed away uneasily. “Murray, you need to take a break? You’re due a break. Take ten. No, take fifteen. Take what you need to. I’ll just be in my office, going over some, uh ... some books.” His erection tented the front of his trousers. Liam knew for a certainty that if he hadn’t laid a prior claim himself, he would be the one ushered out so that Silas might take advantage, yet again, of the servile Murray. But instead, Silas backed into his office, behind the two-way glass, and slammed the door.

  Knowing he could be seen, and that Silas had likely whipped his cock out and begun to jack it the moment the door closed behind him, Liam zeroed in on Murray again. The man’s tongue stole out to lick his lips. He stared at Liam, hungry as a wolf ... and frightened as a rabbit.

  “Easy, go easy,” Liam whispered. “There will be no pain, and you are in no danger from me. I only wish to show you the best of all possible times, and if there is room behind or on top of your bar, I can make your dreams come true.” He grasped Murray’s shirt collar and pulled him close for a deep, ravenous kiss. “Let us celebrate,” he said against the man’s lips. “In a week, I will have a personal victory, one I have wanted for some time. Lilith favors her children who bring favor to those they care for. My heart belongs to others, but tonight, I care for you. Come closer, Murray, and let me taste you once again. Say yes, Murray. One small yes, and I will shake your world to its core ...”

  Murray’s eyes drifted half closed. The scent of arousal, musky and thick, filled the air. He began to shake just a little, to tremble with need, with wanting. “Yes,” he murmured. “Yes, please.”

  Liam laughed. “Then let us waste no time.” Easily sliding up onto the bar, he slipped down the other side, pulling Murray with him into a tangled embrace, bringing them cock to cock and mouth to mouth.

  As he began the mating dance again, for the millionth time in his life, it still seemed fresh and new as ever to Liam, the man he tasted just as sweet. And so it shall be for my Brotherhood when next I come through these doors.

  Here, they will find happiness at last ...

  Willa Okati

  Although a relative newcomer to the field of e-publishing, Willa Okati has been writing since before she was old enough to pick up a pen. She thinks she knows where those dictated stories are hidden, but she'll never tell.

  Willa is also very interested in the paranormal: magery, Wicca, New Age philosophy, transgender studies, and of course, writing. You can drag her away from the computer if you really fight, but you'd better be prepared for a battle.

  Just so she doesn't sound entirely dull, Willa has her fun: she is a practicing member of the SCA (Society for Creative Anachronism) and is involved in her community. She is owned by far too many cats, all of which have serious attitudes, and addicted to anything made out of chocolate or involving coffee. She is quiet, but has a very wicked sense of humor that springs out when you least expect it.

  A secretary for eight years, she now writes full-time -- and wouldn't trade it for the world.

  She loves to hear from readers, and always responds. You can contact her at [email protected] or visit her website to check out her work at http://www.willsheornillshe.com.