Milo yawned and stretched, his back popping like a firecracker as his vertebrae realigned. He winced at the high-pitched singing of his calf muscles, hell let’s face it, every Goddamn muscle was singing, and settled down on his bed. After he’d managed to coax his body into a comfortable position, he yawned again, wide and loud into the silence of the room as his mind drifted to the events that led him here.
He’d known he shouldn’t have gone out tonight, but he’d been wired and needed to blow off some steam. That’s how he’d found himself at Spider, the new Goth club on 22nd. Not that he’d looked out of place; he hadn’t. Dressed in his tight black jeans, a ripped, black T-shirt strategically two sizes too small, and his long leather overcoat. To top it all off, he had painted thick black liner around his ice blue eyes and smoothed jell through his dark hair, artfully picking out strands here and there to give him a rough and ready look. He’d looked amazing when he’d left the apartment, and he’d known it.
The club had been humming when he’d arrived and it hadn’t been long before he’d been held against a muscled chest on the dance floor. The guy was hot, all sinewy muscles and soulful brown eyes, the studs on his T-shirt leaving sparks of pain and desire where they’d touched Milo’s lean torso. His length had pressed into Milo’s belly as their hips moved to the thrumming beat and he’d grabbed Milo’s face and brought their lips together, his tongue insistent and needy in Milo’s mouth.
Knowing he had time, not much but enough, Milo had grabbed the hunk’s hand and guided him through the sea of writhing bodies and out the exit door, ignoring the alarm that sounded as he door opened. In a dark corner of the alley, Milo had kissed, licked and bitten every piece of skin he exposed until the man was a quivering mass of want and need, fingers scrabbling for purchase on the brick wall he’d been pinned against. Milo had prepared him roughly and without much decorum, each needing the other rightthefucknow, before slipping his sheathed length past the rim and into the dark heat beyond in one swift movement.
The music from the club had pounded inside Milo’s head with every thrust into the whimpering man beneath him. His fingers had gripped tightly to lean hips, hard enough to break the skin with his nails. Judging by the helpless mewling coming from his conquest, the man wasn’t bothered by the roughness of their coupling, in fact he pushed back onto Milo’s cock in a punishing rhythm.
When his climax rushed through him, lifting him high and then throwing him down onto the rocks while waves of ecstasy washed over him, time and again...Milo felt the familiar prickling up his spine. Shit! He’d known he shouldn’t have left the apartment, but it was too late for regrets now. Although he did feel a nuance of remorse for the man losing control in the intensity of his own orgasm, head bowed and hot reams of come spurting from his cock onto the ground. It wasn’t often he found a partner with the size and stature to withstand a hard fucking the likes of which Milo handed out. Oh well, there would be others.
He’d seen the man’s terror as he’d watched Milo shift before his very eyes into the monstrous wolf he had become so many times before. Lost himself completely in the horror in the man’s gaze when he’d ripped his throat out and drunk hungrily from his spouting vein before clawing open his chest and taking the most precious of trophies.
Back in the here and now, Milo yawned again and stood, turning three times on the spot before sinking onto the mattress. He wouldn’t shift back until the early morning rays crept through the window, and no doubt he would wake again before the dawn. But he always made provisions to quell any hunger pangs he may need to satisfy. His long tongue flicked out from his snout and he lapped at the slowly congealing blood around the man’s heart where it lay on the pillow beside him. Milo made it a rule to make only one kill per shift and so he always made sure he had a midnight snack.