Priest (Trident Agency #2)

11. Priest

11

PRIEST

T he drive back to his house seemed to take an eternity. But unlike the last time, he followed every traffic law in existence. With Oliver in the car with him, he wouldn’t take any chances on being reckless. His Demon was still stirring inside him, agitated at the fact that Oliver had run off after Priest had explicitly asked him not to. And then, when he saw Oliver running away from him—or at least in the opposite direction of where he’d been standing—it had triggered a predator drive inside him. Yes, he wanted to keep Oliver safe, but he also wanted to catch him and claim him.

Remind him where he belonged.

It didn’t help that the entire drive, his car was filled with the scent of his little human’s lust perfuming the air. Every breath he took, he could taste it on his tongue, in the back of his throat. It made it hard for him to focus, especially when he kept glancing over every few seconds like he was worried Oliver would disappear again.

But his reckless beloved sat in the passenger seat, looking almost relaxed except for his eyes. They had the faintest shimmer to them once more, giving away the stirring of his desires and his Angel blood.

As soon as the car was turned off, he was hustling him inside, tempted to just throw him over his shoulder and carry him through the front door and up to his bedroom.

As soon as the door was shut behind them, Oliver turned to him and wrapped his arms around his neck. “Just because I found you going full Demon uncontrollably attractive doesn’t mean I’m going to give up on Poe,” Oliver said, his voice wavering as he pushed up onto his toes and rubbed his body all down the front of Priest’s.

“I don’t want you to forget about your friend,” he said, gripping the back of Oliver’s thighs and hoisting him up, practically purring when Oliver reflexively wrapped his legs around his waist. “I want you to be safe. I want you to trust that me and my team will find him.”

Oliver stared down into his face, running his teeth over his bottom lip. “It feels like no one is making Poe the priority. He’s my family. I can’t just forget about him, even if all I want is to spend every waking moment covered in your come and wrapped in your sheets.”

His Demon surged inside him, and he was moving faster than any human could, crossing the house and sprinting up the stairs. Once they were in his bedroom, he kicked the door shut behind him.

“We’ll find him together, I promise,” Priest said emphatically, holding Oliver’s eyes as he slowly lowered him onto the mattress. He followed him right down, bracing his forearms on either side of him. They were so close their breaths mingled, the damp, warm air making his skin tingle. “Do you trust me, little human?”

Oliver stared into his eyes for a moment, and it felt like his answer would be the beginning of something… or the end. They stood on a precipice, and he just hoped Oliver was brave enough to jump off with him.

“Yes, Priest. I trust you,” he whispered, lightly caressing his cheek. “We’ll do it together.”

Relief and happiness and resolution filled his entire being. He dove down and took a long, deep kiss. He moved his lips slowly, trying not to rush despite the fact his Demon was urging him on, demanding they do things he knew Oliver wasn’t ready for.

More than that, he was hungry again, starved. Considering he’d woken up that morning feeling more sated than he had in years, it was hard to believe, but fully shifting into his Demonic form always took a lot out of him, sapping his energy when he changed back and bringing his Incubus needs right to the surface.

An ever-present reminder that he could never truly be full. That his Demon was a bottomless well, always looking to be fed again and with more.

He was going to have to work hard to hold back. It wasn’t fair to ask Oliver to feed him again, even with whatever Angelic powers he was discovering inside himself. Three times in as many days? That could drain even the most powerful creature. And he wouldn’t put him at risk like that.

As if he could hear Priest’s thoughts, Oliver broke their kiss and tightened his arms and legs around him. He whispered directly into his ear, “I need you, and I can feel how much you need me. Take it. Take everything you need.”

“It’s too soon?—”

Oliver shook his head, his hair wild and glasses askew. “No, it’s not. I felt good this morning. I still do. I can handle it. You don’t have to treat me like I’m made of glass.”

“Oliver.” He shouldn’t. He knew that it was dangerous, and yet his Demon whispered in his ear. He wants it. He craves it. Take. Take. Take.

“Yes,” Oliver moaned. “Take. Do it. Please .”

That “please,” said so brokenly, so desperately, was more than Priest could handle. He fell forward once more, locking their lips together, pushing his forked tongue into Oliver’s mouth and tasting every inch of him, every molecule, from the tea he had for breakfast to the desire burning in his veins.

It took a while to get them undressed. He didn’t want to leave that perfect sweet mouth, kept going back in for more kisses. After he kicked off his shoes and then stripped off his shirt, he and Oliver struggled to get Oliver’s pants off until Priest finally lost his patience and tore them away.

Oliver stared at him wide-eyed and then laughed. “You’re going to have to get me a new pair. Most of my things burned in the explosion.”

He said it lightly. But Priest was so in tune with him in that moment he could taste the hints of grief tinging the air around them.

He crawled up onto the bed as Oliver scooted backward and then flipped over, bracing himself on his hands and knees. He peered over his shoulder at Priest and sucked on his lower lip. He was fucking gorgeous like that. All lean muscle and pale white skin.

Priest wanted to taste every single inch of him, and he planned to, but not this time, not when Oliver’s lust and his own hunger were driving him forward, edging him toward madness. He didn’t have the patience, and neither did his little human, who lowered himself to his elbows and spread his legs wantonly.

“Fuck,” Priest snarled, diving forward and burying his face between those perfect cheeks.

Oliver’s hair and the skin on his face held a tinge of ash. He knew he had walked through the burned-out shell of the bookshop, and it lingered on him. But here, right here, it was pure Oliver, and the scent was driving him mad.

He ran his tongue from the back of Oliver’s balls all the way up over his hole and then kissed the bottom of his spine.

Perfection .

Oliver moaned and spread his legs a little farther, arching his back in offering, an offering that Priest would gladly take. Gripping a cheek in each hand, he spread him open and used the dexterous tip of his forked tongue to torment him, fluttering it along the sensitive skin of his sac and perineum.

It didn’t take long before Oliver was pushing back against him, silently begging for more. And because Priest was a kind and thoughtful Demon, he gave it to him. He finally moved up to Oliver’s entrance, licking over the furled muscle over and over until it was nice and wet, and then used the tips of his forked tongue to spear inside of him.

The cry Oliver released riled up his Incubus, his nails sharpening where he clutched at his delicate skin, but he held them back from turning into full-on claws. He didn’t stop his torment though, using the strength and more slender makeup of his Demon tongue to breach his little human deeper until he found that perfect spot inside him. That little bundle of nerves that made Oliver dance on the bed when he fluttered his tongue against it.

“Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods,” Oliver chanted, pushing back against Priest’s face so hard he had to use some of his own strength to hold him still.

He was so focused on giving Oliver pleasure and driving him out of his mind with it that he didn’t realize he was feeding on him. Oliver’s desire was so thick in the air around them it was making him a little light-headed.

Or at least that’s what he thought until he became aware that as he tongue-fucked Oliver into a moaning mess, face pressed into the sheets and the scent of tears on the air, he was taking in all the nourishment he could want, and it didn’t seem like Oliver noticed. He had so much inside him Priest taking a little off the top didn’t even register for him.

“Priest, please,” he cried, reaching back and gripping a handful of Priest’s hair. “I’m like two seconds away from coming, but I need you inside me.”

He groaned, the sound reverberating straight inside Oliver and making him whimper and thrust back against him. Slowly, he retracted his tongue, massaging the plump globes of Oliver’s ass as he went. As soon as he was free, he licked his lips lewdly, meeting Oliver’s eyes. “You’re fucking delicious, little human,” he growled.

He could tell that his eyes were completely black, the heat from Oliver’s body like a beacon, drawing him in.

“That tongue of yours should be illegal,” Oliver panted, not bothering to move a single muscle, staying exactly where he was with his face pressed against the bed and his ass sticking straight up in the air.

It was a good look on him, and Priest planned on appreciating it as often as he could. He gave his cock a few quick strokes, not that he needed it. The sight and taste and sounds of Oliver were enough to keep him hard for the rest of his life.

He pressed his wide head against Oliver’s loosened entrance and started to push in.

“Wait,” Oliver said, a hand fluttering in the air.

Priest froze, not moving a muscle.

“Lube. We forgot lube.”

He still didn’t move, surprised his little bookworm didn’t know his saliva was better than any store-bought lube in existence.

Before he could figure out how to tell him that, Oliver rolled his eyes and said, “Oh, wait. Incubus, never mind. Go ahead.”

Still a little confused, Priest held his position, one hand on his cock, the other on Oliver’s hip. He stared at the side of his flushed face. “Are you sure? I can probably find some somewhere.”

He couldn’t. He didn’t know why he said that. There was no lubricant in his house. He didn’t need it.

Oliver shook his head as best he could, stretching his arms out in front of him like a cat. “No, I just forgot. Go ahead. Take me.”

Take him was exactly what he wanted to do, that and so much more. His need for Oliver went beyond anything he’d ever felt before, anything he could ever dream of feeling. Slowly, doing his best to remember that Oliver was mostly human, he sank inside his tight heat, his eyes rolling into the back of his head at how amazing it felt.

He didn’t stop until he was all the way inside, his hips pressed flush against Oliver’s ass. Taking a deep breath, he squeezed his eyes shut for a minute.

“Oh gods,” Oliver moaned, a shudder running through his body.

Eyes snapping back open, Priest ran his hands from Oliver’s hips up to his shoulders and back down. “Are you okay? Is it too much?”

He knew that people liked to brag about having sex with a sex Demon, but he also knew that sometimes the size of him could be overwhelming.

“No, it’s fucking perfect,” Oliver slurred out. “I need you to move.”

“Not yet,” Priest said, satisfaction filling him. Oliver loved having him inside him. Soon, he’d crave Priest as much as Priest did him.

“Priest, please do something .”

Smiling, Priest pulled all the way out, the sound of him moving in Oliver’s slick passage obscene in the quiet room. His human craned his head around to scowl at him.

“What are you doing?”

Priest smirked and easily flipped him onto his back and then jerked him toward Priest where he knelt on the bed. Oliver went limp beneath him, arms stretched out above him, dazed eyes gazing up at Priest.

“I decided this is how I want to take you, little human. I want to watch your face as I show you where you belong.”

Oliver swallowed thickly, watching as Priest lined back up and drove inside faster that time, smacking their skin together in a lewd way. Oliver threw his head back and moaned, long and low.

Priest couldn’t resist the temptation of that long, slender column, sliding his hand up Oliver’s abs and over his chest until he rested his palm on his throat, curling his fingers around the back of his neck. He held him firmly, not cutting off any air, just holding on possessively.

Oliver tipped his chin back down and met his gaze, his damp lips slack with euphoria.

Priest pulled out and then thrust back in, holding Oliver’s eyes. “You’re not going to run off like that again, are you?”

Oliver shook his head, but he didn’t say anything.

“No. Because if you do, next time, you won’t get the pleasure of my cock inside you.”

Oliver sucked in a quick breath.

“No, if I have to chase you down again, I will throw you over my shoulder.” He thrust hard. “Carry you back home.” Another. “And tie you to this fucking bed .” One more, even harder, driving Oliver an inch up the bed. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Priest. I understand,” Oliver moaned, still holding Priest’s eyes, even though his were heavy-lidded. His long, slender cock lay untouched between them, but it was practically purple, the tip drooling precum obscenely.

“Good. That’s good,” Priest said through gritted teeth, picking up his pace, beginning to chase his own pleasure as well. Oliver looked like one wrong move and he was flying over the edge, and Priest wanted to be there with him. “You are precious to me, Oliver. I will not be held responsible for what I do if you were to get hurt or be taken from me.”

Some of the lust cleared from Oliver’s eyes as he blinked a few times. “I’m right here. I’m safe.”

But he almost wasn’t, was almost lost in an explosion that tore apart his home and store.

And if Priest hadn’t come home when he had and found him gone, would he have been able to find him as fast as he had? Oliver had been sprinting away from the bookshop and club, following something no one else could see. How far would he have gone? Would he have made it? And what would’ve happened if he did?

Terror began to combat the pleasure growing inside him. Groaning, he fell forward, moving his hand out of the way and pressing his face into the crook of Oliver’s neck, shuttling his hips in and out.

He wrapped a hand around Oliver’s neglected dick and began to stroke in time with his fast thrusts. Just as they both reached their peak, he murmured against Oliver’s skin, “Don’t leave me.”

He was sure Oliver didn’t hear him. How could he over his shouts of ecstasy?

The scent of his come was thick in the air as Priest kept working him, drawing out every drop that he could before finally allowing himself to find his own release, grunting and pushing as deep inside Oliver as he could get, wishing he could crawl inside him. He released his seed into his lax body, sating part of the urge by leaving some of himself behind.

Oliver’s eyes were closed, his breaths still ragged, but he peeked up at Priest when he got up from the bed and went into the bathroom to grab a washcloth, bringing it back to clean Oliver up.

When he climbed back in the bed, he didn’t bother asking that time, just pulled Oliver into his embrace and held on. His body and his hunger were sated, but his mind couldn’t rest. Oliver didn’t seem to have the same problem, drifting off to sleep shortly after he curled into Priest.

He lay there with him for a long time, stroking a hand gently down Oliver’s bare skin, as much to soothe himself as Oliver. He inhaled their combined scents, taking it deep into his lungs and letting it fill him up, every cell of his being.

He needed to make sure that Oliver stayed safe. Even though he had said he trusted Priest and that they would find Poe together, he couldn’t forget Slate’s words from the second bombing site. If Oliver was the only person left from either attack, could someone come after him to try and take him from Priest?

There was no way he could be with him every second of the day if he was working with the team, and if he stayed home with Oliver instead of going to work with the others, Oliver would get pissed off at him, rightfully. They needed all hands on deck to figure out what in the nine hells was going on, but he couldn’t be distracted and worried that while he was at the office or out investigating, Oliver was out on his own, playing at detective and trying to use powers he didn’t understand yet.

No, things had to change. They had to adapt.

Pressing a quick kiss into Oliver’s hair, he carefully extracted himself and grabbed his cell phone from his discarded pants before strolling out of his bedroom naked. He went downstairs and headed straight for the den, pouring himself a large glass of gargoyle whiskey.

He drank down half and then unlocked his phone, pulling up the contact he needed. He didn’t let himself stop and think about it too long, worried he’d second-guess or get cold feet. He just hit the number and raised the phone to his ear.

A deep voice answered after two rings. “Hey, Priest. I’m surprised to be hearing from you so soon.”

“I need a favor.”