Angel and the Assassin
me Daddy anymore. I allowed that while I was fucking you, but
now things are different. Call me Sir and obey me.”
“Yes, Sir,” Angel said very quietly. The slight quiver of his chin proved his
disappointment, and the look in his eyes showed some small fear.
“Coke will rot your insides.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Excellent. If he’s a little afraid, he’ll be more likely to obey me.
Angel reached up a hand and touched Kael‟s cheek, stroking it with his fingers
in a conciliatory gesture. Kael was instantly aroused by the soft touch.
The steward brought their drinks, and Kael downed his in one shot and
handed the glass back. Angel put his juice into the cup holder. When the steward
had left the cabin, Kael glanced around. The seats to their immediate left were
empty, the nearest passengers several seats behind.
It was the middle of the night, and the cabin lights were turned low. Kael
unzipped his trousers and took Angel‟s hand, pushing it inside his underwear. “Rub
my cock,” he told him in a low voice.
Angel leaned his head on Kael‟s chest and sighed, seeming utterly content.
Kael wrapped his arm around the boy‟s shoulders, already catching his breath as
the warm fingers grasped his hard shaft and began a slow massage up and down. A
low moan escaped Kael, and he bit his lip in an attempt not to draw attention to
them.
Angel and the Assassin
29
With his head resting back against the seat, Kael closed his eyes, the only
reality in that moment being Angel‟s hand on his cock. What would happen when
they arrived in London remained to be seen; all that mattered just then was his
steady progress toward orgasm. As his stomach muscles tightened in anticipation,
he felt around on the empty seat to his left for the discarded napkin and covered
Angel‟s hand with it. When he felt Angel sliding his head down toward his crotch,
he grabbed him by his hair, pulling the boy‟s head back.
“Let‟s not be too obvious. There‟ll be plenty of opportunity for you to learn how
to suck a cock properly.”
He looked down, meeting Angel‟s eyes, noticing again how beautiful they were.
Angel opened his mouth, waiting, a look of innocent longing on his face. Kael rarely
kissed anyone. His mum was lucky to get a peck on the cheek. There was something
about kissing that was too intimate, especially during sex. Kissing took sex to
another level of emotion that he never wanted to reach. He pressed his forehead to
Angel‟s but did not kiss him, and allowed his pleasure to rise up and spill over,
breathing hard, biting back the moans that wanted to escape but had to be
suppressed.
Afterward they sat for a long time, not speaking. It was only when the steward
returned that Kael pulled Angel‟s hand from inside his underwear and zipped
himself up. When he tipped the boy‟s chin up to look at him, he saw Angel was fast
asleep.
The steward looked wistful. “He‟s a lucky boy.”
Kael took a fleeting look at the man‟s crotch, which bulged slightly. He could
have the bloke in the toilets any time he wanted. He looked down at the top of
Angel‟s blond head and felt perfectly content, not wanting anyone just then.
“Can I get you anything, sir? Anything at all.” He looked hopeful.
“No, thank you. I‟m good, but perhaps another time,” Kael said and waited
until he left.
Awkwardly, because he did not want to disturb Angel, he took his book and
pen from his inside pocket. For an instant Misha‟s happy face filled his
consciousness, followed quickly by the last time he had seen her, with her dark hair
floating around her head as she went under, the water turning red with her blood.
He began to write.
I was standing out on the balcony of the tenements where we lived. It was
nighttime, but I could see the courtyard four floors below because it was well lit,
supposedly to reduce crime. My mum’s boyfriend, Gary Burke, was beating her up,
not for the first time, and she was screaming bloody murder, cursing him, fucking
this and fucking that.
He was screaming back, calling her a dirty slag between slaps and punches. A
man and woman walked past arm in arm, but they didn’t stop and they didn’t offer
to call the police.
30
Fyn Alexander
Gary was shouting at her, “Give me your fucking wages. I’ve got no fucking
money till my dole comes on Friday.”
Gary lived on social services, one cheque to the next. It didn’t go far when you
were addicted to
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