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Posts Tagged ‘Hunter’s Point’

Here’s a book you won’t see for a while. Because three-fourths of it lies in my fevered brain. It’s the third of the “Nevada Highlander” series, starring a Scot and a cop. The title is HUNTER’S POINT.

better litehouse

The title refers to two objects: first, the little stone house where former state trooper Alex has moved after leaving Rory’s massive castle bedroom. Second, it’s the distinctive lighthouse called Scurdie Ness which lies at the end of Montrose Promontory on Scotland’s northeast shore. That’s where our guys have found clues to a probable murder.

I guess I’ll have to admit that this book is full of phallic symbols—none more potent than the dicks of its main characters. The one which, ah, emerges in this chapter is no different in shape, intent, or effect.

In this section, perpetually-aroused Rory has had to stop in the middle of a promising interlude with his lover. For the last few hours, his balls have been aching; and Alex, fully aware of his pain, has prolonged it maybe a little too much for Rory to tolerate gracefully…

~oOo~

He really tried to escape those redwood stumps Rory called arms, and he turned his face from the close beard browsing his neck and chin, then the teeth biting his lower lip, drawing blood. A distant part of his brain told him this encounter should be taking place downstairs, in the training room. Except there, neither of them could ever be sure when someone might come in. Like Kenneth Drummond, for instance. But now, today, they were alone, in a very private place. And this man’s father was somewhere in the Cairngorms.

“Let me go, goddammit, Rory.”

“When wolfhounds foogin fly. Stand still. Or pay the price.”

Rory began to suck his tongue while trying his best to unbutton Alex’s denims.

The man’s fumbling fingers and expert tongue combined to stuff his cock with a gallon of hot, ready blood.

“You’ll ruin another pair of jeans. Son of a bitch, Rory, stop.”

“Then stand still, you cock sucker.”

“Asshole licker.”

The deliberately abusive language fired both of them. Alex allowed the clumsy fingers to open his fly, then to take his pants down over his ready ass. As big as he was—hardly an inch shorter than Rory, and maybe twenty pounds lighter—the Scot picked him up as though he was a rodeo rider’s saddle and flung him over one shoulder, bearing him to the bed.

Too late, he saw the coil of rope on the surface of the crisp linens. He wondered how long it had been lying right there, waiting for Alex to fall into the open maw of Rory’s enormous sexual appetite.

Alex was strong, and his martial skills were many. He’d honed his techniques most of his life, knowing a gay man had to protect himself. But Rory was stronger, and his own talents matched, hold for hold, feint for feint. They wrestled for at least five minutes, each pinning his opponent for a few seconds before one or the other of them slipped the hold.

beard kiss 2All the while they slid in and out of each other’s arms, their mouths and tongues were never far apart. Alex strained to suck and bite Rory’s wide mouth, lick the hidden cleft in his chin. With every pump of his needing mouth, his prick seemed to stand straighter from its nest of wiry dark hair.

At last he found himself belly down on the bed and Rory was clamping his wrists together at his tailbone while he flailed and swore at the tightening rope.

“Fuck you, Drummond. I swear, I’ll have your ass …”

“Aye, lad. I want you to have my ass. But I’ll have yours first.”

The next touch was alien. Hard, cold, smothered in gel, it stroked his taint and then circled his rim, slow. Rory’s downy mustache found his ear.

squildo rainbow

“I need to watch it, Alejo. See your ass swallow it and let it go. So let it happen. All right?”

“What the fuck is it?”

“You’ll find out. Take it, welcome it, tell me how much you love it.”

Sometime during that mumbled dialogue, Rory had slid a cock ring above his balls, choking off his need to spit cum into the goddamn sheets. How could the man be so three-thumbed with buttons, and so damned talented with sex toys and cock strokes?

The strange object began to sing, and Alex recognized it as a vibrator. By the time it was halfway up his asshole, he knew it wasn’t just a vibrator. It was a fucking anaconda, and Rory knew how to to take that slithering boa almost to the end of his waiting tunnel.

His head deep in the pillow, he began to moan, his words spilling in gobs of spit and lust. “Oh, oh, shit. Ah, god, I can’t stand it. Stop, oh, do it, do it.”

~oOo~

If you like Rory and Alex, maybe you’ll enjoy the first two novels.

dbl covers nh&hp-pizap.com14200568794101 copy

Nevada Highlander: Who’s on Whose Tail?

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00H7KHHJI
Kindle UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00H7KHHJI
OmniLit: https://www.omnilit.com/product-nevadahighlander-1370624-340.html
A
n ARe and OmniLit Bestseller
Print: http://amzn.to/190t1TJ

The Kilt Complex: High Crimes and Sexy Misdemeanors
http://amzn.to/1toZgAS
Kindle UK: http://amzn.to/1EQn6Qq
omnilit http://bit.ly/1tvfx7E
An ARe and OmniLit Bestseller
Print: http://amzn.to/17Xs27N

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