“I’ve searched centuries for somebody like you.”
It was bullshit, all such bullshit.
Denny looked away to his bedroom wall’s single decoration, a poster of a black cat in a French café. He found the image dull, the colors wishy-washy. He hadn’t taken in the sight for years; otherwise he might have thought to remove it. Now he fixated on it as if it were a map showing the whereabouts of the Holy Grail, his mind awhirl, his body aflame.
He couldn’t handle Kit’s words. The elf sounded too damn sincere, every soft syllable like a sledgehammer to his conscience. Nobody had said anything so bloody sweet to him since he’d been fourteen years old at a Valentine’s disco. The teenager who’d charmed him then was now shacked up with a husband and three kids. He didn’t know whether to laugh at Kit or yell with fury. So he concentrated on the friction of the elf’s hand, and his renewed anxiety faded quickly enough.
“Lubricant?” asked Kit. Finally Denny turned his way. The elf’s cheeks were pink, his forehead beaded with perspiration, his hair mussed. Every part of him appeared to scream for sex.
Denny didn’t look into his eyes. He reached into a drawer in his bedside cabinet, rummaging beneath a packet of painkillers and a magazine. He retrieved a small white tube and a dusty condom in a square silver wrapper.
It struck Denny that protection might not be necessary. He always practiced safe sex, but EBs physiology was far from normal. “Do you want me to…uh, put a rubber on?”
Kit rattled out a dry laugh. “Let me do it for you. I read on a poster that you should use these things nowadays, and if you want it, I want it. Just rest back and enjoy yourself.”
Denny couldn’t bring himself to argue. The elf settled his knees on either side of Denny’s legs, untucked his shirt, and parted the small bit of zip that remained knitted. Raising himself a little higher, he peeled down his trousers and then removed them completely before returning to his spot.
Enjoying each new sight, Denny grinned ravenously. The bottom button of Kit’s shirt came undone, revealing a line of dark blond hair spreading down to the lace triangle encasing his groin. The black thread of the thong cut beneath the prominent bones of Kit’s hips, a startling interruption to creamy flesh. Then the elf pinched the slender black band and pulled his underwear down.
Kit’s cock jutted a good six inches in erection, the skin a velvety pink, the veins fragile and neat, like the rest of him.
Denny had to touch it. As deliberate and gentle as Kit had been with him, he grazed his thumb across the silky-soft foreskin, creaming away a drop of liquid. He licked his thumb; Kit tasted salty, hot, and delicious. On top of him, the elf’s thighs trembled. He pressed his dick toward Denny but then paused. Kit fumbled in vain to get the condom out of its packet. Denny squirmed with impatience.
“Give it here,” said Denny. “Or bite it.”
“Oh, okay.”
Kit tore the corner with his teeth before pulling the rubber out. He examined it for a moment, then rolled it over Denny’s prick, the fluttering contact pitching Denny into a new frenzy of need. Next, Kit picked the tube up from the duvet beside them, squeezed out a large blob of lubricant, and slicked his fingers. He twisted round to display his buttocks.
Okay, Denny would willingly wait a few moments to watch this. Kit chewed his lip, lines of concentration searing his brow. The ridges of his buttocks grew hard and then softened as he eased a digit between.
Bloody hell, he’s experienced at this part.
A disturbing notion struck him.
If Kit had read Denny’s desires from his mind, the elf would have known he liked to use protection but also been aware how to open a condom packet. On the other hand, Denny had never observed another guy prepare himself like this. He would never have imagined lying here watching, although he wasn’t complaining. His expression still tight, Kit worked until he’d sunk his fingers as far as the knuckles.
Denny became intoxicated, his reservations fading. The poster, his wardrobe, and his blue bedroom walls all diminished into a blur. Kit fucking himself with his hand demanded full attention. Then the elf pulled out and edged up Denny’s body till Denny’s cock split his arse cheeks.
It felt like Denny’s every last drop of blood rushed to his prick at once, the heat of Kit’s crack nearly too much too soon. He raised his pelvis barely an inch, feeling relieved he wasn’t fifteen years younger—then again, as an inexperienced youth, he’d have come five minutes ago in Kit’s palm. The elf squirmed back and forth till he positioned his entrance over Denny’s cockhead, skimming his front teeth up his lower lip and leaving little white marks on his skin.
“Yes…Kit…yes.”
Denny clasped Kit’s slim waist, caressing him and urging him on. The elf quirked a delicate half smile, heaved a gasp that shook his rib cage, then eased down onto Denny’s shaft. Kit’s slicked ring of muscle yielded to the pressure, enveloping Denny in tightness and heat and setting his senses reeling.
“Fuck! This… You…you’re too tight…too good.”
Kit enveloped only his supersensitive glans. Through the rubber, he experienced the slip of his skin and Kit’s muscles squeezing as he eased a little deeper. Denny closed his eyes, and a groan emanated from his core. Arching his body, he began to thrust, craving more friction.
In perfect rhythm, Kit rocked his hips. Starting with small movements up and down, he rode the head of Denny’s cock, and then he sheathed himself to the hilt. As Kit’s cry shattered through Denny’s hearing, a sense of urgency seemed to seize them both at once. He pushed forward, Kit slid toward him, and their fucking grew harder, more desperate. The mattress creaked.
I want this. He wants this. Just don’t think about the billion reasons this is wrong, and pray John next door can’t hear us.
No coherent notion stayed in his mind for long. Denny’s cock felt ablaze in a furnace of bliss. If Kit’s ongoing cries were anything to go by, elves had prostates, and he struck just the right spot. Through mists of pleasure, he grew aware of Kit’s bobbing cock, as painfully hard as his own. Instinct shouted he should take it in his mouth, which was madness. He was in great shape but no contortionist. Shifting one of his hands from Kit’s hip, he grasped the elf’s prick and tugged.
The sinews on Kit’s legs pulled into tight white cords. He threw his shoulders back and slid his knees forward, intensifying the angle of penetration as he fucked Denny’s hand. Denny’s balls pulled up, his internal fibers curling. His orgasm built. Kit sang, strange and tuneless, every note hitching as if he were drowning in bittersweet pleasure.
The elf screamed again, scrunched his eyes tight, and slammed down hard. The impact shot up Denny’s spine with an electric intensity that all but fried his brains. Ah, Kit knew how to give, and Denny grew overwhelmed by a need for them to come together. Mustering the last of his wits, he milked Kit’s cock and fucked his arse as deeply as he could.
When he opened his eyes, Kit’s gaze brimmed with lust, determination, and longing. In that moment, teetering on the cusp of orgasm, Denny would have willingly repaid him with his heart, his very life. Never had sex felt so connected. His cock heaved a spasm; then his climax broke.
Kit came too, thick white liquid jetting onto Denny’s hand, spraying droplets on his chest, his damp face, and the bedclothes. Waves of pleasure cascaded through Denny, peaking, then subsiding, leaving him sighing in weary bliss. His cock remained hard even when the elf, smiling wistfully, eased off him.
“That was amazing.” Denny panted.
“Thank you,” murmured Kit. He flopped forward to nestle against him. Denny looped his arm around him, spooning his body about the elf as if nothing were more natural. His cock, still heavy, brushed Kit’s softening prick.
The cheap cotton of Kit’s shirt felt sticky with sweat, and the buttons dug into Denny’s ribs. Wishing to hold Kit naked, he reached to undo it, starting at the second-to-bottom button. He skimmed the dusting of hair and smooth flesh on Kit’s tummy.
Words boomed suddenly in his mind.
Checklist item number five. Does the target have a belly button?
He pressed across Kit’s abdomen. No belly button.
Kit must have sensed him freeze. He grabbed for Denny’s hand. Denny jerked back before Kit caught him and sat up, swinging his legs over so he sat on the edge of the bed.
He’d just had sex with an EB.
A prisoner in his charge, with whom he was supposed to keep contact to a minimum.
It had been the best sex of his life.
“You okay?” asked Kit.
He rubbed his stubbly cheeks. “No.”
“No?”
The phone started to ring again.
It was getting on for midnight; nobody would call at this hour unless it was an emergency. Or work.
He hesitated a moment longer and then rose from the bed. “I’m okay, but I’d better get that this time. Don’t go anywhere.”
“Not intending to.” Kit sank back against the pillow, hugging it as he had Denny. “Too comfy here.”
Denny wiped his face and chest with a swimming towel, which stank of chlorine. As he pulled his trousers on, Kit’s eyelids grew heavy, although Denny perceived the elf watched him still. Turning his back, he felt a wrench in his guts. He fought it, striving to obliterate the stirring image of Kit in his bed from his mind’s eye as he went downstairs.
In the hall, he saw the missed call on his phone was from Laura. He was about to dial her up when he heard his comms unit buzz. He went into the lounge and picked it up from the sofa.
“Yeah?”
“Denny. I’ve been trying and trying.” Laura sounded worried, but hearing her voice afforded him mild relief. At least she remained on shift, and he didn’t have to deal with somebody else. “What going on?”
He sat down and sank his forehead into his palm. “Don’t ask.”
She did, though. It was her job.
“I’ve screwed up,” he replied. “I went back to the garage, and the EB seemed to be fading away. So, you know, I felt sorry for it and brought it inside, and—”
“You’ve got to be kidding.” He rarely heard this level of agitation in Laura’s tone. He winced. “The elf is in your house?”
“Yeah.”
He wondered how she’d have reacted if he’d told her the truth. The elf is in my bed.
“Have you used restraints?”
“No.”
“Okay, we can figure this out.” Laura’s voice was stone cold, her frustration as tangible as the knot of misery forming in Denny’s stomach. “There might be a disciplinary hearing, unless… Look, maybe we can still keep this under wraps. You need to get it over to Croydon now, tonight. They’ve sorted their IT issues. That’s what I’ve been calling about. I’ll tell them to expect you ASAP.”
Denny pinched the bridge of his nose. “ASAP? It’s nearly midnight.”
“Yeah, and I go off shift in five minutes. Jo is here next. Then Nadine is on from six o’clock in the morning, and either of them might call in senior management over this. Look, I’ve logged you’ve got an elf in home storage and endorsed the decision with my signature. If it escapes, we’re both in deep shit.”
She was right. It wasn’t just his job on the line. Laura didn’t deserve this stress. “Okay. I’ll get him to the van now.”
“Thank you.” She sighed. “Just don’t feel sorry for it. It’s an EB, Denny. Think of Jen. You won’t get any redundancy pay or references if you’re fired. Use the restraints. Don’t let yourself be screwed.”
When the line fell dead, Denny’s hands shook. The very notion of taking Kit to the depot made him feel sick. He’d fucked the guy—no, the elf.
The EB.
He needed a moment to gather himself.
The gas fire remained on, guzzling energy from when he’d used it to warm up Kit. The Christmas tree lights blazed too. He rose to switch both off, then opened his drinks cabinet and reached for a bottle of single malt whisky, which Henry had given him at his last birthday.
Oh God. Henry. His warning about unsound EB policies was the last thing Denny needed to worry about now. And what the hell was he doing considering self-medicating with alcohol? He had to drive to Croydon. A drop mustn’t pass his lips, or he’d be breaking yet more rules and regulations.
He went out to check the van and to retrieve the handcuffs and some leg irons, placing both in a plain canvas bag. The icy slap of the air helped him focus his mind and face grim realities. How could he have gambled his life?
He refused to think of Kit’s smile or his arse or those stories he'd spun. Above all, Denny turned his heart blank to that moment during sex when their souls had seemed to touch. EBs had no souls. No bond with one could be real.
He wouldn’t let himself be screwed. Not again.