Where the Devil Says Goodnight (Folk Lore 1)

“I love you,” Emil whispered and kissed him again, sinking into the soothing touch. Here, in this room, with the door locked, they could be together and pretend the world outside wasn’t falling apart.

Emil slid his hands down Adam’s thighs, pulling up the cassock.

Adam’s breath caught, and he grabbed Emil’s hands before they managed to reach bare skin. “I… don’t think this is a good moment. They could hear us.”

“I just need you with me. We can be quiet.” Don’t make me beg.

Adam’s handsome face was tense with worry, but his grip on Emil’s hands loosened. He spread his legs to let Emil closer and buried his face in Emil’s neck, caressing it with that wonderfully hot breath. “All right. But really quiet.”

The words opened the dam that had been holding Emil back, and he pushed the skirt of Adam’s cassock up, eager to get rid of the pants it hid. The whole outfit was a chastity belt to make fucking harder. Emil knew this wasn’t ‘the right time’, but there was nothing he wanted more right now. This moment in Adam’s company was the only thing keeping him sane. He needed to know he could be Adam’s lover at least, or he might as well drown in his sorrow.

If he could be useful this way, to see the flush on Adam’s face darken, to see his eyes roll back in pleasure, his teeth bite down on his hand because he couldn’t keep in moans of ecstasy, then Emil wasn’t a complete waste of space.

Emil was still kissing Adam when he hurriedly pulled his pants down all the way to his ankles. Nothing mattered right now but the need to bury himself in the man he loved until they became one being—inseparable forever. Adam held on to him, helping Emil by kicking off his pants, but the cassock was still gathered at his waist. Emil wouldn’t waste time unbuttoning the damn thing.

He wanted Adam now and seeing his beautiful cock harden added fuel to the arousal ravaging him. “I’ve been dreaming of this for so long. You don’t know what you do to me.”

He’d been in this room many times, so only took him a second to remember Adam kept his hand cream in the nightstand.

Adam’s eyes kept darting to the door since they’d started touching, but he stilled when he saw the tube, and Emil could sense resistance coming before Adam opened his mouth. “What are you doing?”

Emil pinned him to the bed with his gaze alone. “I want to be close. Please, let me show you how much I need you.”

Adam’s exhale came out as a rasp, but his eyes sharpened, the haze of initial arousal gone. “We can’t do that. We will still be close,” he whispered, touching Emil’s mouth with two fingers.

Emil helplessly clenched his fist. “You can do me if you’re scared.”

Adam’s lips trembled, and he bit his lip as despair passed through his features. In the yellow light of the lamp, his face was so soft, so gentle that Adam’s doubts didn’t seem like outright rejection. Not yet. “I’m sorry…”

Emil couldn’t stand Adam’s touch anymore, as if the warm flesh had suddenly turned into sandpaper. He couldn’t bear being turned away by the one person who he needed to accept him. But he really was the mutt no one wanted.

He threw the cream back in the drawer and started pacing the room, which right now felt like a cage. Behind him, Adam shuffled around as he dressed, but Emil faced away, knowing he might snap if he met the blue gaze.

His shadow was tall but elongated and could break like a twig if it were a real-life being. Maybe it was the accurate representation of his soul?

Behind him, Adam gave a loud exhale. “Emil, please. Let’s just sleep on it.”

Yeah. They could do that. In separate beds.

Chapter 19 - Adam

Adam was hot as hellfire despite the air prickling his skin with needles of ice. The dichotomy between the scorching heat of his insides and the cold grass created steam clouding Adam’s mind, as if someone had tossed ice cubes into flames.

His palms throbbed with pain, but a growing sense of confusion flooded his senses when he opened his eyes, tasting apples.

He was naked.

He wasn’t in bed.

He wasn’t even inside a house, and for precious seconds, he stared at the pale drops of dew on the lush green carpet beneath him, unable to explain what happened. Confusion turned to terror when he raised his head and glanced at his hands, which rested on the cool, uneven surface of a large rock.

Its porous structure was streaked with what Adam thought to be red paint at first, but when he realized the liquid was still soaking into the stone, his breath sped up, and he turned his hands without thinking.