Hill slept like a baby, with his arms around his beloved brother and his new lover.
New master, a voice inside him whispered.
The words made him shiver with delight. It wasn’t that he’d been looking for a replacement for Darri, but he and Cather were built to have a master. They would have died had they not been rescued by the people here at the Old Tavern Club.
And even that might not have been enough were it not for Jag.
Jag made a noise and shifted, pressing closer to both of them. His hand slid down Jag’s ridged belly, petting gently. Jag hummed for him, the sound not quite a purr in Jag’s human form.
Love. It wasn’t the word so much as the emotion itself that slid over Hill from Jag’s mind.
Hill hummed and scooted down, wanting Jag’s heavy cock in his lips. Jag moaned and shifted again, exposing that prick to him, already half hard.
“Need you, please.” He lapped at the tip of Jag’s cock.
“It’s yours. Take what you need.” Jag stroked his cheek, petted his head.
Hill let his eyes drop closed and wrapped his lips around Jag’s heavy cock. Jag cried out, the sound filling Hill’s ears. Pure pleasure flooded him, warm and rich, and he took more, inch after inch. The tip slid into his throat, and he swallowed, over and over.
Jag cried out again, hips jerking and pushing the thick cock in deep, nudging the back of Hill’s throat before backing off. This Hill knew; this he understood. This he could do. He sucked harder, and Jag found a rhythm, sliding his cock along Hill’s tongue, in and out, in and out.
Jag’s hands dropped to Hill’s head, fingers curling in his hair. He could feel the effort it took Jag not to hold his head in place and just fuck his mouth.
Yours, he sent. Take me. Use me, Master.
Jag groaned and tightened his hands on Hill’s head. Then Jag began thrusting, pushing hard into his mouth over and over. He ran his hands over Jag’s belly, letting Cather’s body cradle him. Jag pushed into his touches, body rippling, rolling against him. Hill’s tongue slapped the tip of Jag’s cock, gathering a drop of salty goodness.
“Hill!” The sound of his name in Jag’s voice was intoxicating. Hill chuffed softly, popping the tip again. Jag jerked for him, cock pushing deeper, driving past Hill’s gag reflex and into his throat.
The lean hips tugged back right away, pulling the thick meat out of Hill’s throat before he could choke.
Jag moaned. “Hill. God.”
Yes. He felt like a god, a bit. Like he was lovely and desirable.
Jag stroked Hill’s face, his head, fingers opening and closing around his head, the touches adding to how good he felt. He urged Jag back in, wanting that fat prick again.
“Eager cocksucker.” The words were a compliment; Hill could hear it in the tone of Jag’s voice as Jag’s beautiful cock spread his lips again.
All he could do was nod, agree with Jag. Yes. Yes, he wanted this, craved it.