Sicari Excerpt (Patreon)

This is unedited so there will be errors. 

Jacob rubbed his shoulder. 

It hadn’t hurt the day after his run in with Logan, but this evening tightened up and now the bone ached every time he moved it.

He’d hoped the walk to Marcel’s would give it time to dull, but if anything it was worse. If Marcel asked what happened—when Marcel asked what happened—Jacob couldn’t tell him.

Logan might be a piece of shit, but he was still a person.

Although the times Logan had used Jacob he hadn’t seem very human. Those moments when Jacob had his face shoved so deep into a pillow he could barely breathe, he would have gladly let someone shoot the bastard.

But Marcel hadn’t used a gun on Frankie.

Jacob thumbed a tear from his eye. The man had to die. He would have never left Jacob alone if he hadn’t. It was a fact Jacob knew and accepted. He hadn’t shed a single tear for the man, but Jacob did cry for the ignorance he’d lost when he watched him die.

The virginity of his innocence.

Jacob inhaled. The cool night air soothed the heat in his cheeks and eased the tension in his body. By the time he got to Marcel’s street, his breathing had slowed and his heart no longer fluttered. When he reached the end of the driveway, he was already half hard. 

The porch light was on. The door unlocked.

Jacob went inside. 

Marcel stood at the back door, looking out into the night. He had no shirt, and the expanse of scars spread over his right shoulder pitting the flesh. Like hungry roots, it crawled across his back, distorting the dagger and circle tattooed between his shoulders. 

Jacob rubbed the scar on the webbing of his hand. 

“Have you eaten?” Marcel didn't look at him.

“Yeah, a few hours ago.” Jacob took off his jacket and hung it on the coat tree. 

“I have meatloaf in the fridge. Potatoes. Some green beans. With those crunchy things you like.”

“I’ll be sure to take some back to the motel with me.” 

The foods Marcel cooked were simple, but good. Nothing was ever burned, too salty, too greasy. All the ingredients carefully measured until they came together, leaving no expectations other than perfection.

As long as Marcel didn’t start talking about sending Jacob away, he would actually be able to enjoy it.

Jacob removed his shoes. A twinge in his shoulder caught him off guard and he winced. Jacob flexed his hand. The next pinch wasn’t as bad. 

Marcel continued to stare out the window. “How did you hurt your arm?”

Jacob laid his shoes by Marcel’s boots. “A door.”  The truth. Sort of.  “Where would you like me?”

“The Bedroom.”

Marcel had two bedrooms in his house. The Bedroom was not where Marcel slept. Sometimes Jacob passed out there, but he was always alone when he woke up.

Anticipation coiled in his stomach every step he took. By the time Jacob was over the threshold, his cock pushed against the denim of his jeans. 

He started to unbutton his pants, but Marcel hadn’t told him to undress. The floor creaked behind him. The heat of Marcel’s presence blanketed Jacob’s back. Marcel’s exhale tickled the hair on his neck. 

“Take off your shirt.”

Jacob did.

“Drop it on the floor.”

Again he obeyed.

A tingling line followed Marcel’s touch across Jacob’s shoulder, down his ribs, to the hem of his jeans.

He waited. 

The air stirred. 

Closer Marcel’s words warmed the shell of Jacob’s ear. “Now. I will ask you again. And you will not lie. How did you hurt your arm?” Marcel grazed Jacob jaw with his thumb. Jacob almost turned. But the contact was not a command.

“A door hit it.”

“How?”

“Marcel, please...”

“How?”

Jacob shivered. But in spite of the fear, his body yearned for Marcel. His flesh fevered. His cock wept. His very core cried out, begging to be filled.

The scars on Marcel’s fingers created texture, teasing Jacob’s nerve endings wherever they brushed his skin. Marcel thumbed one of Jacob’s nipples then followed the thin line of hair between his pecks to the hem of his jeans. 

Marcel slipped his fingers inside just enough to caress the base of Jacob’s cock.

“I’m waiting.” Marcel’s words weren’t much more than a whisper, but they crushed Jacob’s will.

“Logan.”

Marcel slid his hand deeper into Jacob’s jeans. He sucked in his stomach to make room. He wanted the man’s entire hand on him. He wanted to be stroked. He wanted to come.

The expanse of scars covering Marcel’s chest rasped against Jacob’s back. It took everything to keep from leaning back. 

“Continue,” Marcel said.

“He came to the motel.”

“Why?”

“He wanted...” Marcel withdrew his hand. Jacob almost whimpered, but Marcel stopped at the hem of his jeans and worked open the button. The zipper. 

He set Jacob free.

“What did Logan want?” Marcel caressed Jacob’s cock. The touch was so light it could have been the movement of air. It turned heavy at the tip. Just enough to scrape the head with the end of his fingers.

“He wanted me to work for him.”

Marcel’s touch was gone.

“I told him no. I swear. I told him I wouldn’t. I was yours. I was—” Jacob was shoved forward by Marcel’s grip on the back of his neck. He threw out his arms, but the force of the push ended inches from the wall. Jacob kept his hands flat on the paneling. 

“Did you let him fuck you?” 

Jacob tried to shake his head, but Marcel’s hold was unmovable.

“No. Never. Never. I swear.”

“Did he offer you money?”

“Yes.”

“What else?”

“He...” Marcel squeezed Jacob’s balls and made him cry out. “Heroin. He had an ounce, maybe two. He wanted me to take it, but I didn’t.”

Marcel’s slacks were the only thing separating the thick length of his cock as it rode along Jacob’s ass crack. If only Marcel would take them off. Fuck him. Use him. God he ached for it.

“Please...” Jacob choked. “Please, I swear, I didn’t.”

“I know.”

Jacob exhaled a shaky breath.

“But you still have not told me why you did not.”

Jacob tried to look over his shoulder, but Marcel still held his neck. “How could I? After everything you’ve done for me? I promised you I was yours. I meant it. I don’t want to be with anyone else.” With each word the fear receded and the tremor in his voice disappeared. 

The void left behind filled with desperation. Not the futile kind found when all options have been exhausted, but the desperation that set a man’s soul on fire with carnal needs.

“Stay.” Marcel stepped back and Jacob remained facing the wall. 

His heart beat against his ribs. His pulse threaded through his veins. His cock jumped with every breath.

Jacob counted the seconds. They became minutes. Then the minutes turned into insanity.

There was a rustle of movement, then Marcel said, “Turn around.”

Jacob did. Inch by inch. His head, his shoulders, then is waist, until he stood in front of Marcel’s naked form.

The scars made rivulets across his wide chest, down his stomach, took chunks of meat from his thigh, stretched over his abs, and stripped the hair from the right side of his chest and groin. Even his cock had been disfigured. Where the skin should have been smooth, it was blazoned with ridges, rendering it hideous. 

Yet the sight only made Jacob’s mouth water.

“Kneel.”

Jacob’s knees folded. 

“Look at me.”

He lifted his head. 

“Tell me why you told him no.” The weight of Marcel’s gaze suffocated Jacob.

“Because...” His voice cracked. “Because I love you.”

Marcel tilted his head. A vee formed between his eyes. Then it was gone, and he closed the distance. The scent of male musk scrambled Jacob’s thoughts. 

That thick cock was only inches away from his mouth, but he didn’t dare drop his eyes.

Marcel cupped Jacob’s cheek. Ran his fingers along Jacob’s jaw. Marcel tucked a wayward lock of hair behind Jacob’s ear. 

“One day, Jacob, you will have what you need.”

“Please don’t send me away. I only need you. Just—”

Marcel put his thumb over Jacob’s lips.  “One day you willhave what you need.”

How could he when the only person he ever wanted was the man in front of him? Jacob didn’t care if Marcel couldn’t love him back because his heart belonged to a dead man.

He. Did. Not. Care.

Jacob would love the man enough for both of them. 

The mere thought of losing what he didn’t even have terrified Jacob more than the thought of drugs, abuse, or the day he almost died.

But what saved him was not an angel but the darkest part of a man. The bits and pieces left behind when everything making him human had been stripped away. 

A demon.

Maybe even the devil himself.

A coy smile bunched the scar tissue on the right side of Marcel’s face. Almost like he’d heard the thought. Or maybe he’d put the thought in Jacob’s head.

Again, he didn’t care.

All he did was crave.

Marcel pushed his thumb between Jacob’s lips and ran it along the edge of his teeth. Deeper, Marcel pressed Jacob’s tongue. He sucked. 

In languid stroked, Marcel pumped his thumb between Jacob’s lips. The expression on Marcel’s face remained blank, his eyes empty. The only sign of his arousal was his hard cock and the rich scent of precum.

Marcel pulled his thumb from Jacob’s mouth and painted his lips with saliva.

Again Jacob waited. Counting his breaths, the beat of his heart, the seconds Marcel stared down at him.

Would the man fuck him tonight? Would Marcel let him come? Or would Marcel leave him hard, wanting, and unfinished. 

Jacob would take any of it. And he would gorge on whatever offering Marcel gave him. 

Jacob knew not to speak so he begged with his eyes.

Marcel gripped Jacob’s chin. “Suck me.”

Jacob dove for him, taking his cock so deep, so fast he gagged himself. Marcel closed a hand in Jacob’s hair forcing him to pull back.

“Easy. We have time tonight.”

There was never enough time with him. No matter how well used, how exhausted, how spent Marcel left Jacob, it was only a momentary reprieve to his thirst.

Jacob worked his tongue over the scars and swallowed around the misshapen head. The deep ridges made it difficult for him to tighten his lips enough to create suction. 

The precum added bitter salt to the clean flavor of skin. It was a taste Jacob loved, one that made his insides curl, and his cock ache.

Marcel thrust his hips and Jacob relaxed his throat. He rolled a look up at the man. Cold gray eyes stared down at him. Finally there was heat, approval, praise in their blank depths. 

Seeing it made Jacob work harder. He would not disappoint Marcel. The fact he never had before didn’t stop him from putting everything he knew, every trick he learned into sucking Marcel off. 

Jacob rolled Marcel’s remaining ball between his fingers, teased the mass of scar tissue on the other side. The sack pulled tight and the tension hardened the muscles in Marcel’s legs. 

Age hadn’t left Marcel untouched, but his life had given him a body in better shape than men with half the years. And the power behind his hold told Jacob in Marcel’s prime he would have been terrifying. 

Knowing those things and seeing the effects his touch had on Marcel gave Jacob the illusion of strength. It erased his mistakes and smoothed over all his wrong decisions. The guilt, the sense of failure and shame he carried for disappointing his family simply didn’t exist.

Jacob needed that. He needed to know he was worthy of someone. To be worthy of Marcel made the approval of the rest of the world obsolete.

A deep groan echoed through Marcel; he tipped his head back and twisted his fingers in Jacob’s hair. His cock swelled, but before he came, he yanked Jacob’s head back. The loss of contact made him cry out. He struggled to reach the length of flesh inches from his face in the same way a drowning man fought to reach air. 

Marcel gave Jacob one hard shake and he fell still. Marcel’s cock jumped with every breath. Jacob petted Marcel’s thighs. The quivering in his muscles smoothed out as his breathing slowed. 

“Stand.”

Jacob stumbled to his feet. The numbness in his legs turned to ants under his weight. Marcel pulled Jacob’s head back exposing the column of his throat. The wet warmth of Marcel’s tongue drew a line from Jacob’s collarbone to his chin. 

God how he wanted the man’s mouth on his. To taste his tongue. To suffocate under the brutality of a kiss. 

“I’m going to fuck you now, Jacob.”

He nodded.

“Do I need to slick you up, or have you already done it?”

“I forgot.” 

Marcel cranked Jacob’s head farther back. “No. You did not forget. You just want my fingers inside you. You want me to stretch you. Maybe even make you come.”

“Yes.” He had forgotten. But maybe Marcel was right and he’d done it on purpose.

Marcel let him go and he almost went to his knees. 

“Turn around, hands on the wall.” 

Jacob didn’t want to lose sight of Marcel, but he wanted to please him more. He did as instructed. 

“Feet back, legs spread.”

Again he obeyed. The position put him almost bent over with his ass up. A current of air brushed the back of Jacob’s thighs. Then there was the slide and thump of a drawer. The heat of Marcel’s presence returned. 

“Give me your hand.” 

Jacob reached back. A glob of cold lubricant dripped over his fingers.

“Ready yourself.”

Jacob nodded even though he didn’t want to. He started to push in a finger, but Marcel caught his wrist.

“Don’t rush.”

But the sooner this was done, the sooner Marcel would bury himself inside Jacob. He rubbed a finger over the puckered flesh of his entrance. The warmth of Marcel’s touch spread Jacob’s ass cheeks.

“One.”

Jacob pushed in a finger. Aching for relief, his body tightened around the digit. 

“Deeper.”

He tried, but his arm was only so long. 

“Two.”

He added a second. Sweat beaded over his flesh but did nothing for the burn rising inside of him. 

Jacob rocked against his fingers. The prickle of euphoria climbed his legs and rushed up his spine. His deep gaps turned to whimpers, then small pathetic cries. A sound that evolved into a shout when Marcel pushed in a finger to join his. 

“Hand back on the wall.”

Jacob obeyed. Marcel gave him a second finger reaching far deeper.

“Please...” Jacob didn’t mean to speak out loud, but it was done, and he couldn’t take it back. 

“Please what?”

Jacob shook his head. 

Marcel pushed in a third. The shock made Jacobs elbows buckle, and he fell against the wall. Marcel’s arm around Jacob’s waist was the only reason he didn’t go down.

Marcel stopped knuckle deep. “Tell me, Jacob.”

“I want you.” 

Marcel removed his fingers. 

“I’m sorry.” Jacob buried a sob into his arm. “Please don’t stop. Please.”

“You want me.” Not a question. 

“Yes.”

“Because you love me.” 

“Yes.”

Marcel ran his hand down the length of Jacob’s back. The scars scraped his skin creating a tingling rush. Then that too was gone. But his presence didn’t move away. Jacob bit back another sob. He willed the tears to stop. He begged his body not to betray what he wanted.

But it was futile. 

Jacob’s shoulders ached, his back protested, and his hip joints rang with the stress of the position maintained. He endured even though he was sure Marcel would leave him unfinished. The man wouldn’t even allow Jacob to watch him jack himself to completion. A privilege Jacob lost. 

He remained there so long his erection flagged and the sweat on his body cooled. The sudden grip on his hip made him jump. With no other warning, Marcel shoved his cock in Jacob’s ass in one hard stroke. His breath was knocked out, rendering his cry silent. The violent slap of flesh filled the void. 

Every plunge of Marcel’s cock raked the ridge of scars over Jacob’s opening. There was no adjusting to the irregular shape. Each invasion a new sensation. 

Marcel pulled Jacob back by his shoulder. Somehow it let him reach deeper or maybe it was just in Jacob’s mind. The friction over his prostate turned ever inch into a mile, ever second into eternity, every spark of pleasure into a supernova.  

“Let me hear you.” There wasn’t even a hitch in Marcel’s command. Like the body he fucked Jacob with was a separate entity.

Jacob let go of his will and howled against the wall. Every thrust shoved cry after cry from his throat. He pushed back to meet Marcel’s thrusts. 

Jacob didn’t even realize Marcel had let go of his shoulder until the electric scrape of his scared hand cut a path over Jacob’s chest, to his stomach, then between his legs.

The rocking of Jacob’s body shoved his cock through the tunnel of Marcel’s fist. 

Marcel slowed to precise thrusts. Pulling out to the tip, then diving deep again.

Jacob knew from experience Marcel could draw this out for hours if he wanted to. Marcel could fuck Jacob until he couldn’t stand let alone walk.

And Jacob would be grateful for the honor.

But the deep growl building in Marcel’s chest always preempted his climax. An earthquake bound in flesh. 

“Come for me, Jacob.” Marcel tightened his grip on Jacob’s cock. “Come for me.” His movements blurred. “Now, Jacob.”

Everything broke free, and Jacob was torn from consciousness and stripped down to raw instinct. He howled Marcel’s name. Begged him to never stop. Pleaded with him to fill his body. 

Cum made Marcel’s hand slick, but it didn’t ease the sharp ache of his movements over the hypersensitive head of Jacob’s cock. He squirmed trying to get away and at the same time fought the discomfort. 

Marcel’s thrusts slowed again but the force lifted Jacob on his toes. The pulse of his cock deep inside Jacob was the only sign of Marcel's loss of control. 

Everything fell still. Marcel at Jacob’s back. The man’s hand on Jacob’s cock. It was as if the entire world had frozen in that millisecond of time. 

Then the weight of Marcel’s body pressed against Jacob, and his words caressed his cheek. “What you feel for me is not love. It is loyalty. And loyalty is powerful in ways that love is not. But loyalty has limits. Because when you love someone, you die with them.”

Jacob looked at Marcel from over his shoulder. “But I would die for you.” He would. If it would please Marcel, Jacob put a knife through his heart.

“I know. When you are loyal you will gladly die for the person you have pledged yourself to and that is easy. Love means, you die withthem, whether you want to or not. The heart beats. You breathe. You eat. You sleep. You fuck. But you are dead.”