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Blitz would have rescheduled. They had done so already before. They could have had their night tomorrow. Or yesterday. Or a week from now. Blitz wouldn’t have cared.
Stolas cared maybe a little too much.
“I would like to thank you all for coming to our ‘Rich and Powerful Goetia’ dinner.” Stella, seated across the long table from Stolas, raised her glass. “While I can’t speak for my boring as fuck husband, I am very pleased to see so many familiar faces.”
Stella was right, she could not speak for him, and he was not pleased. He didn’t want to sit at their formal dinner table with all these Goetias who would rather mock or ignore him when he could be getting fucked raw into his mattress upstairs.
“What a lovely party you are hosting, my dearest sister,” Andrealphus remarked as he sat to Stolas’ left in great disappointment. “Prince Stolas, didn’t your wife, who you promised to cherish and adore even though you have forgotten your wedding vows, do a wonderful job planning this?”
The other Goetia looked at him with disgust, pity, or disinterest. Vassago turned his head away, Raum pretended he wasn’t paying attention, Gem rolled her eyes, and the glances continued along the table.
The affair wasn’t a secret. The attempts at divorce weren’t a secret. Why they were doing this bullshit of a dinner was beyond him. Stella planned it without telling him. She wasn’t even supposed to be in the house anymore, but here she was, forcing him to sit at the head of the table in front of their dozens of guests.
At least Via wasn’t here to see this, thank goodness.
Stolas took another sip of wine, ignoring that his face was already burning with embarrassment.
“Let dinner begin!” Andrealphus, who did not sit at the head of the table and thus really did not have the right to announce dinner, announced.
The guests were presented with trays of food, far more than they could eat. Platters of mice, fruits, seeds, soups, breads, salads, and roasted meats were served to the attendees, who would only eat a fourth of what was on their plates to not ruin their figures.
He was so grateful he told Blitz they would not reschedule tonight.
Stolas felt the first of the vibrations as he was served a helping of roasted vegetables. His lower half shook at the suddenness, but he held his expression stern. The vibration was low and subtle, more of a reminder than an order.
Blitz was close enough that the remote connected to the vibrating plug in Stolas’ cunt, and the fact thrilled him more than the soft tremors ripping through him.
“Andrealphus, I hear the annual gala is being hosted at your palace,” Vassago started the pleasant and boring small talk. “I’m sure we are all looking forward to it. Your ice sculptures are always dazzling.”
Stolas barely heard Andrealphus’ answer as the vibration increased. If he arched his back slightly, the plug rubbed so nicely against the walls of his cunt. He thought of Blitz’s fingers, nimble and quick. Blitz knew just how to press against Stolas’ body, how to drag his teeth down Stolas’ back, how to get his tongue so deep into him that…
“Stolas!” Stella’s bitter voice pulled him back.
Stolas looked up from the vegetables he was starting at as if they were fascinating discoveries.
“Yes?” Stolas had to be very careful with his voice, aware his infliction and breath could easily be lost in the buzzing between his legs.
He wondered if they could hear it, for he felt it at his very center.
Vassago pondered him through his yellow glasses. “I was just asking if you plan on attending the gala?”
“Oh, yes, I do plan on--”
Squawk was the only term fitting the noise from Stolas’ throat as the plug’s tremors grew faster. He tried to cough to cover the noise while adjusting his seat to lessen the intensity. No matter how he twisted his hips, the plug threatened pleasure he couldn’t handle.
“What the fuck was that?” Stella jeered, but Stolas ignored her.
“I'm so sorry about that, Vassago.” Stolas coughed again. “Just something in my throat. Yes, I do plan on attending.”
The vibrations dulled, and Stolas took a moment to look around the room. He did not see Blitz, but he must have known somehow that Stolas had been speaking. Blitz was an assassin, he knew how to hide, but Stolas wished he could see him right about now.
“This is a Goetia only gala, correct?” Andrealphus asked as he swirled his glass of wine. “I feel that some here may need the reminder who is and isn’t allowed to attend.”
Vassago’s eyes darted from Andrealphus to Stolas. “Erm… I believe traditionally, the galas have been Goetia only, but I guess that would be your decision, Andrealphus.”
“Wonderful.” Andrealphus took a loud sip of his wine. “No little imps allowed then.”
A chorus of chuckles filled the air.
Blitz would never set foot in a stuffy party like that anyway. Stolas didn’t even want to go. Stolas wanted to be upstairs in his bed with Blitz between his legs, holding his hips, thrusting that big dick into his body. He wanted to be eating Blitz out, not eating at this stupid party.
“Did you hear that, husband?” Stella snickered. “Goetia only.”
Stolas stared at his wife, her ridiculous dress, and that wicked smile he saw in his nightmares, the same from those early days of their marriage she wore as they tried to make an heir.
“I did,” he stated. “I’m also reconsidering if I am going to the gala. I realize it is not quite the company I was looking forward to after all.”
Gem covered a shocked laugh as Raum gasped. Andrealphus set the wine glass down.
“I’m not sure your less-than-ideal company is the wiser option, dear brother-in-law,” Andrealphus threatened with a glare.
“I think the company I keep is much more comfortable than the company present.” Stolas downed the rest of his wine. “Better looking, to start. Brave, nimble, better in bed. Funnier, too.”
A series of shocked expressions covered the length of the grand table.
Stolas grinned. “Best of all, not a Goetia.”
Andrealphus rose from his seat, ready to argue for propriety's sake, but Stolas did not hear him. The plug’s vibrations increased and decreased three times, their agreed-upon signal.
“I’ll be back,” Stolas gasped, standing so quickly that his chair toppled.
Andrealphus called to him as he escaped the room, but nothing could hold him back. The plug still vibrated deep within him. He hadn’t a single clue where Blitz was, but he needed to find him. Each step was another shock to his core, another wave of unreachable pleasure.
Blitz was somewhere in this fucking palace. Hiding in some alcove, some secret wall panel. Somewhere waiting for him, to fuck him, to take him, to use him until he was wasted down to bone dust and magic particles, and Stolas would let him do it.
A hand was in his then, claws cutting into the soft skin of his wrist, and he was pulled into a small linen closet. It was only big enough for the two of them and was lined with shelves. The only light leaked in through the crack under the door from the hallway.
He could smell Blitz, coffee and gunsmoke, as the imp pulled him down by the collar.
“Miss me, dirty bird?”
Blitz was kissing Stolas before he had time to respond. He was pushing him against shelves Stolas had never touched, against folded table sheets and cloth napkins. His tongue was quick and light in Stolas’ mouth, and Stolas matched it like a partner in crime instead of a competitor.
Pulling away, Blitz drew his fingers through Stolas’ feathers and pulled his head back. “Could you feel me calling for you?”
“Like a fairywren to the nest,” Stolas whispered in a heavy breath.
A mated bird who fucks others. A grimoire instead of flower petals. Seemed fitting, and he would have explained if Blitz had asked, but he didn’t. Instead, his mouth was on Stolas’ neck, his teeth sinking in, and his hands pulling Stolas down enough for their hips to meet.
“Do you think they could hear the buzzing in you?” Blitz whispered as he worked his way up to Stolas' mouth again.
“No one said anything if they did,” Stolas responded.
Blitz smirked, pressed a kiss sharply against Stolas, and turned him around so Stolas was pressed face forward into the shelves. Blitz pushed down Stolas’ dress trousers, beige and unattractive until they were down to his thighs.
“Those prissy bitches wouldn’t know what to do even if they did,” Blitz asserted as he pulled Stolas’ hips back. “They have no fucking clue what to do with a whore like you, and they will never get the chance.”
That was almost… kind? Nearly gentle, in a way Blitz had not been since this arrangement had begun. Blitz cupped Stolas’ ass to spread him open to where the plug rested in his cloaca. Grabbing the stem, Blitz gave a slight tug, not enough to pull it out but enough to cause Stolas to gasp.
“Take it out and fuck me,” Stolas begged, lifting one leg to lean his knee against a shelf full of folded, decorated kitchen towels.
He didn’t care how it looked to present himself in this way to Blitz. He was already pathetic enough in this deal, he might as well live out every fantasy he had ever had with him. Let his cunt be used in such a way that it will be branded to his memory to be traced later back to his body when he was alone again.
The desire to have someone want him enough to play this ruse was astounding. Blitz was putting himself at risk easily as they could get caught. Yet the imp played along and snuck into a guarded Goetia palace to fuck the prince that lived there.
If the grimoire meant that much to him, then fine, Stolas would get his payment in return.
“Patience, you are gonna hurt yourself if you just rip the damn thing out,” Blitz hissed. “We would have to delay our fun, and I don’t think you could handle that long without this dick.”
Carefully, Blitz worked the plug until it left Stolas’ body. He felt the aftershocks of the vibrations in his cunt, only extenuating the feeling of emptiness without it. Blitz ran two fingers along the edge of Stolas’ cloaca and then pressed inside.
“Oh, look at this!” Blitz laughed under his breath as he pulled his fingers out and spread them apart to show Stolas the stickiness between them. “Wet as the River Styx. You are just pouring for me, aren’t you?”
Blitz wiped his fingers off on Stolas’ vest, and he felt a thrill knowing he would be returning back to those stuck-up pricks with his own desire on his chest. He turned his head back to the shelves, but he heard Blitz undo his belt buckle.
“Please, Blitzy, just fuck me,” Stolas begged, whipping his tail as far to the side as he could to show Blitz all he had to offer.
“Why the rush?” Blitz asked quietly as he lined the head of his cock to Stolas’ cunt. “Need to get back to your fancy fucking party?”
Blitz pushed in on ‘party,’ and Stolas groaned at the beauty of Blitz being in him. This is what Stolas had wanted all day. Not roasted mice and seasoned vegetables. Not expensive wine and light music. Nothing in that other room. Preferably they would have been in his bed, the very one Stella avoided after learning an imp had fucked her husband in it, but a closet would do. Stolas would let Blitz take him to the hilt anywhere, especially when he wrapped his long tail around his thigh like he was doing now..
“Answer my question.” Blitz pulled out slowly and then fucked back into him. “Do you need to get back to those schmoozing assholes?”
Stolas gasped at the hard press of Blitz’s hips against him. His thigh burned from pressing his knee into the shelf, and the single foot holding him up felt unsteady, but he wouldn’t move.
“No,” Stolas moaned.
“Good,” Blitz dragged his claw down Stolas’ covered back. “They are all dickwads anyway. Let them wonder what is keeping their host busy.”
Keeping hold with one hand on his hips, Blitz pressed his other hand up Stolas’ chest until it settled on Stolas’ collarbone. The pressure Blitz’s palm offered was centering and soothing in comparison to the harsh thrusting of his hips.
“They won’t miss me.”
Little more personal than Stolas intended, and he let his chin fall forward against Blitz’s hand. The rhythm never broke, and the record never skipped as Blitz pressed him against the shelves. They knocked over folded serving mats, and they crashed around them like hellfire from the sky.
“Their loss,” Blitz finally said. “More for me.”
Stolas’ feathers raised on the back of his neck, and Blitz kissed them down.
“Actually,” Blitz’s claws gripped his hip tighter. “None for them. You are all for me.”
Stolas had not been close enough yet, but those words pulled it from him, and he came with a wave of security he hadn’t known. His cunt throbbed around Blitz’s cock as he spent, his own cum falling onto the closet floor with each thrust.
“You liked that, huh?” Blitz gloated. “You would like it if you were just for me. No one else gets your cunt. You want that?”
“Yes,” Stolas gasped for breath as the tremors of his release threatened to take away the least amount of strength he had to hold himself up. “I only want you to fuck me. Your cock is the only one I want.”
“Where do you want it?”
“My mouth. My cunt. Between my thighs. Anywhere you want it. I don’t care.” Stolas nearly sobbed with the words. “I want to only be used by you.”
“Damn right, bitch.” Blitz pressed his body against Stolas’, leading them up against the shelves.
The last few thrusts caused the shelves to shake, and more napkins and towels fell on them, but neither cared. Blitz’s forehead pressed against Stolas’ back as he came, and Stolas hoped it was hard enough to bruise. He hoped Blitz’s claws had cut him, leaving skin-breaking marks so that on the days between the Full Moon, he could press against the crescent-shaped wounds along his hip and fuck himself to the memory.
Blitz pulled out with a sigh, turned Stolas around so they could see each other in the shallow darkness of the closet, and pressed the heel of his palm against Stolas’ cunt.
“Blitz!” Stolas cried at the unexpected pressure.
“Pull your pants up,” Blitz ordered.
Stolas reached for one of the napkins on the floor, but Blitz swatted his hand away.
“I said pull your pants up.”
“I need to at least wipe some of it away,” Stolas said. “It will make a mess.”
Blitz shook his head. “That would be such a waste. You are going to walk back in there and finish your fancy fucking dinner party with my cum leaking from your body. I want it to run down your legs while those fuckers are talking down to you. I want your feathers sticky with me when that shitty wife of yours opens her bitch mouth. I want you to think of my cock so far up your cunt that everyone can smell me all over you.” Tugging Stolas down from his collar, Blitz kissed him. “Got it?”
Stolas nodded as he pulled his pants up from his thighs until they were up to his hips. Blitz withdrew his hand and offered his sticky palm to Stolas, who licked the mixture of them clean.
“Now go on,” Blitz ordered.
“Will you come back tonight after the party is over?” Stolas asked, not caring how pathetic it sounded.
Blitz grinned. “Let's see how well you listened to my instructions. I’ll be watching you, dirty bird.”
Blitz was gone before he could ask where the Hell he had been hiding in the dining room, but Stolas adjusted his outfit, smoothed back his feathers, and left the messy linen closet behind.
At first, he didn’t feel anything, but when he was a few steps from the dining room door, he felt the first warmth trickling out of him. By the time he reentered the dining hall, Blitz’s cum trailed down his thighs like sap from a tree.
Andrealphus caught his eye first when Stolas sat down at the head of the table again. The peacock, known for his sense of smell, took one deep breath and grimaced.
“Where the Hell have you been?” Andrealphus snarled.
“Visiting with more pleasant company,” Stolas smiled and pressed his thighs together in memory as he took a sip of his wine.