Everything Carries Me to You (Axton and Leander Book 3) (48 page)

There were adjustments, a few fumbling moments for preparation and positioning--

Leander braced himself with a hand on Axton's chest, heavy on his sternum, and began easing down onto Axton's dick.

The shudder Axton had been holding back burst through, body unable to stay still at the slow, impossible heat enveloping him. His eyes were closed and his eyebrows knit together as if he was under unbearable strain.

There was an amused glitter in Leander's eyes as he smoothed a thumb over those furrowed brows, but then he caught his own bottom lip up in his teeth, pressing down with his knees and his hand on Axton's chest, making subtle changes to their angle, looking for...

By the time Axton got a hold of himself enough to look back up, Leander had thrown his head back and the taut lines of his throat moved noiselessly, ceaselessly.

Axton was panting--no, Axton had started off panting as soon as he was pinned. Axton was nearly gasping, now, and making raw keening sounds each time Leander ground down onto him, taking in the entirety of his dick. Axton had one hand clutching at Leander's hip, and one desperately balled up in the sheets trapped under their bodies.

"Leander, Leander, Leander," he said over and over in a wet broken rush, like a prayer.

With a big unsteady breath of his own, Leander dropped his face down to Axton's.

"Hands," he said, and that was all.

Axton made a sweet, small choked sound and released the sheets and Leander's hipbone. Leander caught his wrists up again, grip heavy this time, pinning Axton down solidly. Immediately, Axton arched up, making a garbled sound spill from Leander's lips.

"Please," Axton begged, falling back. "Fuck.
Please
."

This time, Leander complied, swift and hard and merciful. His mouth went to Axton's throat and he bit and sucked at the skin there, and Axton cried out the whole time, shuddering and sweating beneath him, hands flexing uselessly but not breaking the pin.

Leander was panting, his own body tight and needy, so that his whisper in Axton's ear was strained, rough.

"Who do you belong to?" he asked.

"You," Axton gasped, eyes rolling to the back of his head as Leander clenched around him.

"One word?" Leander challenged. "That's all?" He moved his mouth to the tender, vulnerable place where Axton's shoulder merged into his throat, and he bit down hard.

Axton buckled under him violently and for the first time broke Leander's grip, surging upright.

"Yours, yours, yours, Leander, fuck, I'm all yours," he said in one big rush between breaths.

They clutched at each other, adjusting to their new position, and Leander's lips found Axton's neck again. They were slick with sweat and gasping together, pressed skin to skin and desperate to get closer. Axton shoved a hand between their bodies, wrapping around Leander's needy, pulsing cock. Leander let out a mangled curse in a combination of languages, muffled against Axton's bony shoulder. Axton pumped down hard and he knew that Leander was as close to the edge as he was. They clung together and Leander growled low in his throat and affixed his teeth to Axton's neck again.

"Oh, god," Axton said, words spilling freely from his lips now. "God, Leander, I love you, fuck, harder, don't stop, god,
there
, oh, fuck, fuck..."

Leander forced a sound out from deep within him but didn't let go of Axton's throat until the strokes on his dick sped up, and then--

"Jesus jesus jesus jesus jesus," he panted. "Axton,
fuck
, Ax--"

"Are you mine?" Axton asked, in a moment of lucidity and clarity that was almost absurd in its suddenness.

"Yes," Leander grit out, between clenched teeth. "All yours, all yours,
yours
."

Axton lowered his face and buried it in the crook of Leander's neck, drew his lips back from his teeth, and bit down with soulful, wild promise.

Leander shouted wordlessly, bucking up, unable to keep position, but Axton's hand never stopped or slowed and Leander ground his hips back down and they gasped together and sweat together.

Their mouths stayed on the other's neck, locked together, lovers and orborous.

Leander came first, slamming against Axton reflectively as he spurted all over their torsos, spilling over Axton's fingers in long wet pulses. Axton allowed himself--
finally
--to go over the edge immediately after, arching with desperation for his release, coming hard inside Leander.

Their harsh breathing, muffled by how their faces were still pressed into each other's shoulders, was the only sound in the room until the rattling kick of the heat turning on. Their sweat cooled on their temples--Axton's hair was messily matted to his skin in places--and finally, with a protesting groan, Leander angled himself off and then flopped bonelessly onto the bed. Gratefully, Axton tumbled beside him.

"Fuck," he whispered reverently.

"No, I'm too tired now," Leander said.

Axton laughed softly under his breath and pressed closer.

"Not too tired for jokes, I see," he said.

"If I'm too tired for jokes I'm dead," Leander said, picking his head up just enough to squint at the beside clock. "Jesus fuck," he added vaguely.

"Yeah," Axton agreed thoughtfully. Then: "How come you can fuck like a porn star?"

"I had a year and a half to prepare," Leander said. "What. It's not like I spent all my time figuring out demographic parameters and planning escape routes."

"Your dedication to doing research of all kinds gives me a boner," Axton said.

"Literally," Leander said.

"Maybe later, when this is over, you and I can do some 'research' together."

"Oh my god, you actually did air quotes," Leander said. "I can't believe you just did air quotes. I just slept with a guy do does air quotes."

"It was for comedic effect," Axton said.

"And why wait?" Leander asked. "I'm sure the motel has some porn we can order."

"Relevant porn?" Axton asked.

"I don't know; it's not like I checked," Leander said. "Whatever. We have internet. Plus, like I said, I'm too tired to fuck you again."

"I'm too tired, too," Axton reassured him.

"Go clean up so we can sleep," Leander mumbled bossily as he threw an arm over his eyes dramatically.

Axton bounced an eyebrow up.

"I'm not the only one covered in jizz," he pointed out.

"Oh, whatever, fuck you," Leander grumbled good naturedly, pushing himself upright. "You're supposed to bring me fluffy warm towels and clean me up all gently and worshipfully and shit."

"You
threw
a hand towel in my face the first time we ever hooked up," Axton said, grinning. "What's this double standard now?"

"You weren't cooperating with my sexy interrogation skills back then," Leander said, sliding off the bed, heading to the bathroom. "You deserved a towel to the face."

Axton scoffed, not at all actually annoyed, and padded after him.

Leander threw a washcloth at him as he came through the door.

They did clean each other up gently, though.

Axton was very satisfied.

The next morning they drove, because that was what they did.

If Axton hummed a little and held hands as they walked across the parking lot when they stopped for lunch--

Well. Leander had the grace and sense to not mention it.

There were still nightmares, and some nights were bad, and maybe there would always be nightmares--or at least, for a long time.

But even the bad nights were pretty good, when they went through them together.

"So, explain to me why we're driving back to Chicago?" Axton asked, somewhere on I-95.

"Because I want to have a cinematic showdown in real life Gotham," Leander said, with a straight face.

"And the fact that it's a densely populated area that's practically guaranteed to have no werewolves being obviously wolfy around," Axton observed, "has nothing to do with it?"

"Nothing at all," Leander grinned.

"Look," Leander said sometime later, maybe hours to days. "You don't fight Dracula in his castle, you don't fight Hannibal Lecter in his kitchen, and you don't fight the evil werewolf ex-boyfriend out in the middle of the great American woods."

"Or in an elevator," Axton offered.

"Maybe in a crowded elevator," Leander said. "During peak business hours when your opponent can't do movie monster shifty wolfman bullshit."

"You should turn," Axton said mildly. "Just so you can say that in the same tone of voice, but it'll be hypocritical."

"Fuck you, I'm holding out until I can be a rich dracula," Leander said. "I didn't claw my way out of the barrio for a supernatural upgrade that doesn't come with a castle."

"You didn't claw your way out," Axton pointed out mildly. "Your mom remarried comfortably and your rich best friend paid for half your grad school."

"I still got scholarships and shit," Leander said. "I worked for it. I worked so many kitchens, man. But point conceded, yeah."

"Besides," Axton said, "I'm not sure that's how vampirism works."

"I didn't say I wanted to be a vampire," Leander said, with excess gravity. "I said I wanted to be a dracula. Get it right, jesus."

Axton smiled and risked taking his eyes off the road for a second to pop a kiss against Leander's cheek.

They were ten miles out from the next major city when it happened.

"Three cars behind," Axton said suddenly. "See? There."

"You're sure?" Leander asked, his hands tightening around the wheel.

"Positive," Axton said.

Leander didn't smile, but satisfaction flushed through him so hard that it radiated from his skin.

"Finally," he said.

Evasive driving really was one of those mysterious skills that Leander possessed. Maybe the thing about lessons with New York was true, or maybe he'd learned it while he learned about boats--Axton didn't even care about the how of it anymore. They lost Dana with enough time to drive to a mall and walk across the vast parking lot leisurely. It
was
useful.

"Ready?" Leander asked.

Axton checked in with himself, just to make sure.

"Yeah," he said. "You?"

"I could use a bite to eat," Leander said.

Axton inhaled his food. Truly, he was impressed by his ability to eat while nervous--wait.

Was he nervous?

Pumped up, certainly. Impatient, a little. Sure. A trickle of dread in his gut at the thought of facing Dana again. And yet--

No. He wasn't nervous. His chest swelled only with pride and his heart beat steadily as he looked across the table at the man he loved. Axton trusted in Leander absolutely. Axton believed in his plan.

Leander sipped at an unsweetened iced tea that was in a plastic cup the size of his head and radiated quiet, peaceful assurance.

"That's so alpha," Axton said. He did not sigh dreamily, but it was a near thing.

"What?" Leander said.

"The ability to project calm confidence in a time of crisis," Axton said. "It's all body language and pheromones."

"This is not a time of crisis," Leander said. "But as always, I appreciate any and all things that give you a boner for me."

"I've seen you do it to other people, too," Axton said.

"It's a privilege," Leander said easily, "and a cultivated skill."

"You're the only one that gets to make promises about how you're definitely coming back," Axton said, "and not get questioned, or called a liar."

"It's because I'm a hero," Leander said, mild and matter of fact.

"I don't dispute that," Axton said.

"So are you, though," Leander added.

"Maybe," Axton said. "Not an action hero, though."

"Ah, action's the cheapest type of hero," Leander said. "You're more than that."

"Action is the most attractive type of hero, you mean," Axton said.

"Why don't you go run around the mall," Leander suggested. "Give Dana a bit of fun, would you? And then bring him back here."

"What will you be doing?" Axton asked.

"Finishing my Big Gulp," Leander said serenely.

Axton nodded.

The thing was, Axton didn't actually know where Dana was. He hadn't the faintest clue where Dana
would
go, in a mall. He had to assume Dana had been to malls before since he apparently spent so much time running around undercover and pretending to be human, but Axton had never seen him inside a commercial structure that wasn't a bar, a gay club, or a fast food restaurant. For that matter, Axton couldn't remember the last time he'd been in a mall, himself. It just didn't come up often.

Wait, he'd gone into a leather goods shop with Dana once, years ago. There'd been that. That didn't seem terribly relevant at the moment; Axton doubted the mall had a leather goods store with the same selection of...niche merchandise.

So Axton drifted around aimlessly for a while, eventually loitering vaguely by a kiosk selling calendars. He was trying to get into the right frame of mind, but he was well fucked and decently fed and it was hard to get the right mix of defiance and fear roiling in his guts. Still, he yelped involuntarily when a rough hand grabbed him by the neck.

"Surprised, sugar?" Dana snarled softly. He yanked Axton behind a wall of calendars, out of sight.

"Not entirely," Axton said honestly, looking at a line of calendars with horses on the covers.

"You think you can just make a goddamn fool out of me?" Dana hissed. "You fucking little coward, you oath breaking motherfucker. I'm going to tear your boy to
pieces
, show you what."

"And then what?" Axton asked, shaking free of Dana's grip, glaring over his shoulder. "Don't make a scene; we're in public and it's broad fucking daylight."

Dana growled, but it was muted.

"I should tear
your
throat out," he said. "Bad enough that it'll heal up real slow, hurtin' like a bitch the whole time."