Flash Fiction Thursday

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Unedited Scene

Adult Content

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M/M Content

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Lucifer thrust in, hitting his lovers prostrate, drawing a howl from him. Werewolves were so vocal when it came to sex. It’s what drew him to them. After his first time with Howler he’d been hooked on the man. No one else compared to him and I made him mine for fifteen years. Last time I saw him was the day before the Thrashers Rebellion. Many good werewolves had fallen to the Witches who deemed themselves the Thrasher of the Supernatural World. Little did they know that all they did was shorten their lives when they attacked Howler’s compound.

“Baby,” a warm hand came to rest on my cheek, “where’d you go?”

Right. He was in the middle of his daily romp with a nameless face wolf. Since Howler died, he’d tried to replace the deep feelings he felt for the man, but no other werewolf fit the bill. Wasn’t for lack of trying. Werewolf after werewolf offered themselves up to him, just for a taste of Lucifer. More like they deemed him to be their protector, their safeguard from any other upcoming rebellion that came their way. Little did they know that the only reason he attacked the Thrashers was because he felt deeply for Howler. No one could replace him. That was for sure.

“Baby?”

“Don’t call me that.” Two more deep thrust had the nameless man exploding. Lucifer slapped the man’s hip and slid from his body. “Take a shower and leave.” Rude of me, but it was more of an offer than he normally gave whoever he brought home. He usually told them to leave, not bothering to offer them use of his shower.

“Don’t you . . .”

“You hear me. Shower. Leave.”

The man huffed as he sat up and slid from the unusually high bed that I’d placed in my room after the second time I took Howler to bed. That sexy as sin man stood seven-feet tall. Sex on a stick. One irreplaceable.

“Fine.”

He flopped back on the bed, looking down at his still hard cock. It had not had relief in so long. No one seemed to be able to give him what I needed. Would anyone else? Or was he doomed to walk around with a hard-on for the rest of his life.