The Manx Cat Guardians Boxed Set Read online

  The need to rush pushed at him. Seeing his naked chest made it difficult for Martin to remember speed was not the goal, but building trust was. Martin took a deep breath, praying for strength. “I want you to touch yourself for me. Show me how you play with yourself when you’re alone.” Martin was shocked by the raw need in his voice, which made him sound as if gravel had scraped his vocal cords.

  Brad’s answering shiver was a great sign, but the lack of movement not so much. Instead, Brad worried his lip, looking lost. Martin’s concern overrode everything, making him move closer to the screen, offering comfort. “What’s wrong, baby?” He huffed at the iPad when all Martin wanted to do was get closer, to hold Brad.

  “Emm I don’t… err… normally play… with myself.” Brad stuttered, the blush endearing while he looked off to the side.

  Wanting to reassure Brad, Martin sprung forward trying almost to climb on the iPad. “Oh, baby, thank you for trusting me. Don’t worry. I love that you’re like an empty canvas to do with as I please.” Emphasis on the last words had pleasure twisting through him when Brad turned to look at him.

  Martin’s cock jumped with excitement. It appeared to be in the same predicament if Brad’s readjustment said anything. It ramped up Martin’s excitement and made him throb with desire. Martin pushed down, trying to ease the need. Air hissed past his lips as the urge to thrust vied with the urge to play. Heat poured off Martin as he struggled for control. His knuckles whitened as he grappled with the iPad.

  Martin counted in his head. Focusing on breathing, he closed his eyes. He hoped taking away the visual would help calm his raging need. He opened them when he felt he had enough control as not to frighten Brad.

  Trying to relax, he moved back, settling. Martin bent his legs, propping up the iPad. Stilted words came out, sounding harsh, but it was the best that he could do. “Suck your fingers. Get them nice and wet.” He was sure Brad would follow his instruction. The sounds and visual of Brad sucking his fingers enthralled Martin.

  “Rub your nipples with your fingers, imaging they’re my tongue. Can you feel my hot breath as it touches your skin? Feel the wetness as my lips suck those succulent rosebuds. Would you let me bite them, baby? Feel my teeth graze them as I pull back?” Small gasps filtered through the speaker, encouraging Martin to continue. “Do you have a good imagination, baby? Can you feel me touch you?”

  Brad’s dazed and befuddled expression peering back at him had Martin want to high-five himself. He watched as hands followed instructions. He was envious that Brad was touching what he wanted, and his hands gripped the duvet. He let words flow unheeded. “That’s right, nice and slow. Show me what you like. Does it feel good, baby?”

  Brad’s hips jerked towards Martin’s husky voice, making Martin jubilant. Martin’s own hands were desperate to join the fun. Martin’s pelvis gyrated, making heat spread between his legs. Martin ached, unable to stop his hand from touching his cock. He was flabbergasted. His control, normally so easy in the past, appeared to be ripped from him by Brad.

  Martin lost himself to the passionate show in front of him, issuing commands. “Pull harder. Feel the pinch.”

  Brad’s pained pleasure made him growl as he watched Brad’s legs stiffen. “A little pain, Brad, can be so good. I can see it making your cock rock hard, baby.” Breathy moans grew, stroking the fire inside Martin. Exhilarated, he felt like he was flying at the speed at which his pulse was racing. Feeling he was giving chase, he tried to keep up.

  He watched Brad’s nipples grow darker, swelling under Brad’s effort. Martin’s legs juddered as they tried to straighten. His cock fought to escape his boxers. Wetness soaked with each thrust of Brad’s hips. He was unable to contain the groan as need pulled at Martin.

  Brad’s position was similar. His hips ground against a plump cushion, seeking more. Urgency spread through Martin as harsh breaths created a rasping whisper. “Stop, stand up, and take off your jeans and underpants.” Martin wheezed as he spoke. The effort seemed worth it as Brad all but danced with anticipation and exuberance.

  Martin’s eyes tried to penetrate the screen when Brad’s exposed his naked skin for Martin’s pleasure.

  How had he never experienced this driving need before? Martin could barely contain his desire, feeling it rage, and he hadn’t even touched Brad. Why was this? Confounded, he was driven beyond sanity. Was this true passion? It was all-consuming, and he felt it eating him alive. How would he survive? Hell, did he even want to?

  His mind screamed he was too far away as the violent need riveted his stony glare. “Place the iPad somewhere where I can see all of you.”

  The silence thrummed between them as Brad obeyed.

  “Lick your hand. Make sure you get it nice and wet.” Words seemed to snarl past his dry lips. “Touch that pretty cook. Show me what you want me to do to you when I get back.”

  Brad’s movements, slow and deliberate, met his heated gaze. God, he was wonderful. Martin’s fingers twitched with the urge to help. “Wet your fingers of your other hand.” Confusion gave way to understanding. “Lick them, baby. Come on. You need to show me what you want. You loved my fingers pushing into you. Making you burn so good, especially when I rubbed that secret little spot. Making you crazy.”

  Martin sucked his own fingers, mimicking Brad. Brad’s glassy eyes vibrated with lust. Martin watched Brad follow his instructions, making them both whimper.

  Brad’s riveted eyes watched Martin when he wrapped his hand around his own cock. Thrilled, Martin looked as Brad shift his legs, opening beautifully for him. Brad’s body strained, making sweat slide down his temple. His pucker glistened with spit as his fingers teased. Lost in his world, Martin saw when Brad’s instinct took over. Ecstasy pulsed between them as Brad breached his rim, eyes immersed in Martin. Making the words die on Martin’s lips.

  Shaking, Martin rode his own pleasure. Irrational jealousy fumed, wanting to touch, knowing how tight Brad would be. The overwhelming heat of Brad’s channel would feel amazing as his nerve endings awakened.

  Desperation rolled over Martin. His fingers moved of their own accord, frantically. His mind lost in the visual of Brad. Never breaking eye contact, he felt cum spurt through his fingers. Spurt after spurt hurtled from his cock, making Martin wince at the force. Gulping in air, he blinked back into awareness. His eyes clashed with Brad’s. Holy fuck!

  Brad

  Fire licked his body when the stormy eyes clashed with his. He reeled from the impact. His finger delved deeper, shocking his system. “Oh hell, Martin. I need you.” Mindless, unaware of the words spilling from his mouth, Brad pushed harder, seeking the treasure Martin had shown him mere days ago. His fingers were no competition against what Martin had given him.

  Buried under sensations, Brad withered uncontrollably. His hips drove towards Martin, wanting him desperately. He sobbed at the ecstasy on Martin’s face as cum erupted from his gorgeous cock, long and ridged to perfection. The purple head gleamed wetly. Curling his lips into his mouth, he sucked, imagining Martin’s salty taste on the tip of his tongue.

  His fingers sought out his spark plug, wanting to finish the race with Martin. Madness slithered under his skin, creating frenetic energy that had his hands blurring as he hit his prostate at the same time as his hand twisted on the head of his cock. The blistering heat melted his insides as Martin raised his hand to his mouth and licked, then sucked his fingers into his mouth before swallowing his own cum.

  While his vision wavered, Brad’s body erupted. Cum flew towards Martin, hitting the iPad with force and dripping down Martin’s body. An overwhelming rightness in marking his territory shocked him rigid. He stilled. Where the hell had that come from?

  The heat in his face kicked up a gear, making it flame. He moved quickly, grabbing his T-shirt to wipe off the iPad and hide his embarrassment. Avoiding making eye contact, he cleaned up.

  The urge to cover up was difficult for him to ignore. Not thinking, he slipped on his cum-soaked T-shirt with trembli
ng fingers. Glancing under his eyelashes, he could see amusement glinting from Martin’s hooded eyes. Along with a self-satisfied look that had relaxed Martin’s earlier harsh features.

  Brad was mesmerised as Martin leisurely rubbed cum into his skin. God, it looked so filthy, but oh so hot at the same time. His Adam’s apple bounced in quick succession. Brad’s head was spinning. It took only a second to register his cock jerked back to life.

  Brad got up. He stumbled while grasping his jeans. The need to hide his predicament was paramount. Uncertainty was hitting hard. He was trembling, unsure what to do now, Brad cast a beseeching stare at Martin.

  Seeming to understand the moment was over, Martin reaffirmed their date for the next day before saying goodbye.

  The iPad thudding on the table brought with it a big dose of realism. “Oh my God!” Sitting, Brad buried his face in his hands. What had he done? Again! He’d promised himself he would keep better control. The harsh laughter burst free. He’d been delusional, totally delusional the minute those baby blues flashed his way. They’d stolen his willpower.

  Brad had found himself wound up tighter than a bow about to be fired for the last two days. The feeling had never left since he’d returned from Martin’s home on Thursday. Having clutched his stomach, he had hoped it would help uncoil the knots Martin had created, by—hell what could he call it? A sexual encounter didn’t sound right. Frustration had him pushing forward as he thought about how he’d been behaving the last two days.

  Fuck, he’d all but floated on the way home Thursday night, his system buzzing. His arse tingled until reality had knocked his lights out. Alarm bells rang, and he shivered at the thought of Martin touching his lower back. His hope gave way to unyielding reality.

  Questions forced their way past the turmoil. Stark, bold, shouting “look at me.” He can’t have missed them, could he? Rolling off the chair, Brad paced as his mind raced ten to the dozen. He couldn’t remember how Martin had looked when he left. He whirled around as if searching for the enemy. Hands punched in the air.

  Why couldn’t he remember? Frustration chafed. He’d kissed him goodbye. Martin’s passion ignited so hotly it had nearly burned them both. His legs had wobbled as colour bleached from his face, and he crumpled onto the floor. Moisture glistened from over-bright eyes. The shocking reality was finally sinking in. “It hadn’t changed how he felt!” Words clashed with the quiet of his house.

  He chewed on his thoughts. “No, it didn’t seem to matter.” Brad’s hushed words were directed towards Princess as she strolled towards him, butting her head against his leg, supportive as ever.

  Brad recalled his elation had quickly been followed with despair as his scars gave a relentless reminder. They worked against him, the enemy stopping his happiness.

  Martin’s texts had made it nigh on impossible to eat. Anxiety chewed at Brad. So much so he’d bitten his nails to the quick. He’d barely been able to focus on work. Stalking, gazing out the window, eyes searching for Martin, only for disappointment to return when he realised he was in London.

  His patience shredded as he’d waited for Martin to call on the first night. He questioned himself repeatedly that it stole his energy. Lying down, he’d been unable to find the off switch to his mind as he’d waited. Then only to be re-energised with the late call. It had lightened the darkness that had surrounded him all day. Words were irrelevant when Martin’s voice soothed, pulling him away from his fears. Only for them to start anew the next day.

  He agreed to FaceTime, although knowing he didn’t have the app made him feel foolish when he’d had to ask for the instructions. Tongue-tied by his inability to explain the lack of social circle just seem to compound his feeling of worthlessness.

  He’d then proceeded to fuss for several hours to set up for the call. He’d made Princess desert the sinking ship. Though he knew he was acting like a child, he couldn’t seem to stop, repeating the same question over and over. “How much longer?”

  The ticking clock had taken all of his focus. Sitting for a few seconds before he’d raced, he’d lost count of the times he rechecked his iPad. Considering maybe he was developing OCD, he eventually sighed at his stupidity.

  The musical chimes had barely penetrated past his anxiety and made him trip over his feet. Brad had struggled to stay up right as he had hit the green acceptance icon. His sweaty fingerprint was smeared across the screen. Rubbing his hands down his trousers to dry them, he edged back to the chair. He was not sure how much longer he could stand, and falling on his backside would not be a good look!

  Now, several hours later, Brad could feel his distress growing again. In the comfort of home, his escapism seemed to have disappeared as his wayward thoughts over the last two days trampled over his sanctuary. Did everyone feel these rioting emotions? Because if this was how it was, it sucked big time. He couldn’t remember being steamrollered by his emotions before.

  Well, maybe by his family, yes, but not with a boyfriend. Okay, his one past relationship didn’t count. This wasn’t like what he’d watched on the TV, either. There hadn’t been any stolen moments, longing looks, romantic meals, or gifts. There also hadn’t been raging need or blistering orgasms that felt like your cock had burst open.

  So where did that leave them?

  The skin on his back pulled as he stretched. Questions stung like attacking killer bees, shrouding his mind in confusion. He’d taken off all his clothes, all of them! He jerked out of the chair at that thought, unable to sit any longer. Nothing had been hidden. Had Martin seen everything?

  They had ended quickly. Was that the reason why? Did it turn him off to see his scars? Would Martin even want to touch him when he came home? Growling, he flounced into the bathroom. Princess stalked past him, her glare reiterating it was too late to be messing around at this time of night.

  “Christ, Princess. I have it bad. Is it normal to feel like this? I think there may be something wrong with me. I only met him several days ago, and now I am acting like he is my boyfriend when he is obviously not.” He changed tact with his questions. “Do you think he saw all my scars? The conversation finished quickly. Was it because he was repulsed and didn’t want to show me?”

  Princess was unable to contain the screeching howl as his rambling drove her to distraction. She was pleased to see she had made his ears ring judging by the scowl.

  “I know I’m acting like a teenager, but these thoughts won’t leave me alone. What the hell am I going to do? Anyway, you’re supposed to be helping me, not shouting at me. How is that supposed to help, hmm?”

  Brad stalked back to bed, ignoring the disgruntled glare Princess threw his way. Clutching the pillow, he willed himself to sleep. His eyes drifted closed only for Martin’s look of ecstasy to force its way under his eyelids. Brad yanked the pillow over his head, squealing when Princess landed with a thud on his arse. “Hey, what do you think you’re doing?”

  Princess’s flagrant sneer stared back at him. “You wouldn’t have liked it if I’d been doing something else.” Her “what the fuck” startled stare had a giggle escaping, but he choked it back. “Okay, so maybe I was about to do something more. I have to do something to release this tension.” Brad wailed, feeling Princess dig her claws in deep into his bottom. The protection of the duvet stopped the full impact. As he shook his bottom, Princess tumbled onto the cover.

  Brad seethed, veiled threats surging out before he could stop. “Get out, before I forget I’m an animal lover.” Ignoring him, Princess headbutted his chin. It was all the warning he got before feeling the wet rasping hit his cheek. Laughter burst out as he rubbed his wet cheek against silky fur. “You know I love to share.” Laughter bubbled up, escaping when Brad felt the friction of Princess’s fur warm his skin.

  Sighing, Brad settled back, clutching Princess to his chest. “What is it they say, Princess? Feel the fear and do it anyway? Well, there’s a whole heap of fear, Princess, inside me right now. But Martin makes me want to try, so I think it may be time to
deal with it.”

  Feeling Princess curling up against his side, Brad felt her purrs vibrating, rocking his body. The movement soothed as sleep pulled him under. Dimples winked as his smile lit the dark, thinking about possibilities and new beginnings.

  Princess

  Holy hotness, Brad and Martin had made her fur stand on end. The urge to seek out a little male pussycat to help her scratch her own itch had her pulling back. Covering her eyes hadn’t helped. The noises from earlier echoed around her tiny brain. Even burying her head hadn’t helped. Nope, she just felt suffocated, so in the end, she’d escaped upstairs to cool off.

  The cry of despair had roused her from her musings as the urge to soothe took over. Brad’s confusion was painful but healthy. He needed to learn to feel, stop existing and start being a fully-fledged human. His stress levels became evident over the last two days. His pacing, ranting, and lack of focus had made her preen with glee. The outcome would be worth it. She just knew it. Even if she suffered with him, the prize was in sight. She could almost touch it.

  Her tiny brows arched under the scrutiny of her mother. “Okay, mother, I know I shouldn’t count my chickens before they have hatched.” Disgruntled little eyes rolled as she pushed against Brad’s arm, feeling him pull her closer.

  The fading chuckle made her worry. Sulking, she laid her head down as worry tried to eat away at her. It would be fine. You’ll see.

  Martin

  Martin glanced out the tiny window, fiddling with the packet of crisps, trying to avoid his neighbour.

  “I hate flying as well. It’s so unnatural. Hurtling down a runway at Christ knows what speed and then hoping the engines don’t give out. Have you seen Billy Connolly’s sketch, so funny, but not. ‘Bend forward. Kiss your arse goodbye as the plane goes into the ground like a fucking dart’, as if those little life jackets will protect you.”