The Voice by Jordan Castillo Price

Author:Jordan Castillo Price [Price, Jordan Castillo]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-05-23T02:22:30+00:00

The Voice moaned low, the sound vibrating against Martin’s neck, and his hand stilled. He pulled Martin against his front so tightly that it hurt, while the hand on Martin’s cock held him, and squeezed.

A tongue swirled Martin’s tender skin if to taste his pulse. A gentle sigh caressed the dampness, while all around them, the haunted house moaned and creaked with far-off laughter and screams.

Martin pressed harder into the body behind him, his thighs trembling with the effort of keeping still. He breathed carefully, feeling his heart pound in his chest. “Please,” Martin begged, a hoarse whisper. “Finish it.” He heard a small sound, more exhalation than laughter. The hand on his cock moved again, long, slow strokes, while the edges of teeth pressed against the hot spot on his neck. His cock ached at the touch of those teeth. Him, Martin, who’d never even had a hickey before. His whole body became a throbbing rhythm. The beat of a heart. The stroke of a fist on a hard cock. The suckling of a mouth on a spot so sensitized it felt numb.

And then teeth clamped against his skin.

Martin cried out as his orgasm washed over him, his vision tingeing red in the darkness. He shook against the solidity of the body behind him, and clenched himself all over to keep his cock in that brutal hand, his neck in the grasp of those teeth.

Fingernails dug into his bare hip as Martin humped at the empty air in front of him, his semen arcing, unseen, to the floor.

And then one of the doors rattled.

Fingers whispered over Martin’s balls as the hand drew away. A small kiss was placed on Martin’s throat. “Remember,” said the Voice, low and sultry, in Martin’s ear. “Now, you are mine.” Martin shivered as the big, solid body behind him pulled away.

The door gave another rattle, and Martin hurried to button his fly and wrap his coat around himself before a cluster of giddy teenaged girls poured, backlit, into the room.

He glimpsed a pale face with dark eyes in the mirror beside the door, but it was just a quick flash--possibly his own reflection. He took a quick look around before staggering out the opposite door. He was the only man in the room.

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