STORY EXCERPT

Which super-baddie had him? Could be anyone. Defense Force had a ton of enemies, and he’d also made a few of his own on the side.

His captor was sure to put in an appearance eventually. No bad guy worth his villain card ever passed on a chance to gloat.

While he waited for his kidnapper to make a suitably melodramatic entrance, Icarius looked around and took stock. He was lying on his back on what felt like a mattress, his arms stretched above his head and bound at the wrists to something by something else. Not rope or chains. It felt more like fabric. He gave it a tug and got nowhere. His legs were splayed and tied at the ankles in the same manner. Icarius opted to risk dizziness and lifted his head minutely.

Okay, this was new. His legs had been secured to a pair of bedposts with what looked like silken scarves. A tilt of his head revealed a second set of scarves binding his wrists to the headboard. He tugged one arm again. No give. Whoever had him knew their knots and clearly had a touch of the kinky.

A scan of the walls reinforced that assessment. The room was small, gloomy, windowless, and decorated with various imaginative torture devices. Typical supervillain lair. What set it apart was this bed, the stereo system, the Victorian lithographs hanging on the walls in antique frames, and the rack of costumes over in the corner. Villains of the strap-’em-down persuasion usually went in for lasers and lab tables. They didn’t play dress-up or torture their victims to background music while etchings of ladies in corsets and fishnet stockings looked on. None of Defense Force’s adversaries were that demented, as far as Icarius could recall.

This did not bode well.

Neither did his subsequent realization that he was buck naked.

He swept a second, more determined gaze around the room. This time he found his wings. The harness had been hung on the wall to his right, just at the edge of his field of vision. The bio-metal wings had been stretched out and up in a V shape, mounted like a trophy. Not an encouraging sign.

Another squint at the clothes rack revealed his costume, neatly hung between a nurse’s uniform and a leather cowboy outfit. Great. A kinky but considerate enemy. This just got better and better.

Icarius tried his bonds again. No go. He muttered a swear word and let his head sink back to the pillow. This was hardly the first time he’d awakened to find himself tied up. Supervillains were bears for restraint and control. They also liked the attention, and practically creamed themselves over the notion of having a captive audience.

Terrific. Now he’d have to lie here and listen to some evil psycho drone on and on about his plans for world domination, while Icarius goaded him with witty bon mots and tried to work himself free. Suckage of a major order here.

No, wait. Major suckage would commence once his lunch kicked in. I shouldn’t have had that refill on the iced tea.

The door in the wall to his left swung open with an ominous creak. Dramatic entrance time. Realizing he’d missed his chance to feign unconsciousness, Icarius mentally shrugged and lifted his head to face the enemy head-on.

The thing that stalked into the room dispelled the last of his dizziness. At seven bipedal feet it loomed over the bed and him handily. Pointed saurian teeth flashed at him in a gruesome smile. The creature ran the flat of a claw down the side of Icarius’s body, from ribs to muscled thigh. Its serpentine tail slapped the floor behind it. Icarius would have sworn it was wagging.

He swallowed hard to wet a throat gone dry as the creature’s scales. “Malaraptor.”

“The very same.” The creature’s voice came out in a deep, gravelly growl, surprisingly understandable in spite of its having to fight past those teeth, inflexible lips, and a lizard tongue. He must have practiced for months to get this articulate. Supervillains loved to talk about themselves and their megalomaniacal schemes. Icarius’s teammate, Harmon, often theorized they hadn’t gotten much attention as children.

Malaraptor ran his claw up Icarius’s other side. That ground-up-nails voice held a British accent. “Lovely to see you again. How long has it been?”

“Not long enough. How about cutting me loose so we can say a proper hello?”

“All in good time. We’ve so much to do, and not much time. I’m hoping we can reach an accord within the next three days.”

“What happens if we don’t?”

The dinosaur-man sighed. “Then Louise comes home and wants her house back. I’ve a lair of my own, but it’s so sterile. Delicate lab equipment and all that. I’d hate to see it wrecked in a fight. Louise was kind enough to lend me her dungeon.” He waved his tail at the walls, so he wouldn’t have to lift his hand from Icarius’s skin. “I like this room. It has character.”

“Louise?”

“Leatherwitch. She’s a dominatrix in everyday life. Surely you’ve noticed the décor.”

“A domme? Well, that explains her costume. Damn, those boots are killer. How the hell does she run in those?”

“She can’t. That’s why she keeps getting caught.”

“Yeah, I heard she was in jail again.”

“No, she’s out. She’s in Aruba with Scylla and Charybdis. I shudder to think what they’re up to.” Malaraptor’s tail picked up speed. “Never mind her. Clock’s ticking. Now, where shall we start?”

ADULT EXCERPT

“Get bent, my scaly arse.” He brushed his beard along Icarius’s neck. The bristly sensation made him shiver. His lips traced the curve of the hero’s ear. “I’ll bet you want it fast and hard, right here on the floor. Or would you rather I throw you against the wall? That’s what you usually go for.”

Icarius’s intended protest became a gasp instead. He probed his hands down Malaraptor’s bare back and clutched at the firm mounds of his ass. His legs spread all by themselves. What the hell, his dick had already betrayed him. Might as well let the rest of his body play follow the leader.

“Floor it is.” Malaraptor flicked his tongue around Icarius’s nipple.

“No. Get off me. Let me up.”

“It’s too late for that.”

“Not that. My wings. They’re excited and digging into my back. It’s like lying on razors.”

“Bugger.” Malaraptor sprang back at once. He helped Icarius sit up. “So I guess the wall’s out, then?”

Icarius shoved him over backward. In seconds he had their positions reversed. Malaraptor didn’t resist. Icarius grinned down at him and rubbed his aching groin hard against the man’s rock-hard thigh. Malaraptor had an answering bulge in his trunks, growing larger and larger.

“Silk scarves and a bed?” Icarius said. “How cliché.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Malaraptor treated him to a smile so wicked it set his heart racing. “I’m not through playing the villain yet. If you want it, you’ll have to beg.”

Bless him or damn him, he still knew exactly which buttons to push to shove Icarius over the edge. His penis made a desperate thrust against the polyester restriction of his pants. Malaraptor had to feel it. His belly lay right in the strike zone. The bad guy coolly traced his finger in a circle around the straining mound. He looked up at Icarius expectantly.

“All right,” Icarius blasted. “All right, you son of a bitch. I want it. I want to feel your dinosaur breath on my eyelids. I want to feel your tongue in my mouth and your finger in my ass.” He began to punctuate his words with quick little kisses to Malaraptor’s throat, collarbone, and cheeks. “I want your dick so far up inside me I can taste cum in my throat. Please. Please, Mal—”

“Don’t call me that. Say my name. Beg me by name.”

Icarius moaned into his ear. “Burke. Burke. Fuck me, Burke. Fuck me to goddamn kingdom come and back. Do whatever you want to me. Let me suck your cock. Suck mine. Fuck me till I scream.” He heard the surrender in his own voice and realized he’d lost control of the game. His wings fluttered briefly before they calmed again. Who was he kidding? He’d lost control the second he saw Malaraptor step into the dungeon. His heart had pounded, and it hadn’t been from fear or anger or even heroic self-righteousness.

He kissed a non-hairy portion of Burke’s cheek. “I never forgot you, and I never stopped wanting you. You goddamn scaly lizard.”

Malaraptor stared up at him with those unnerving eyes. Then he pulled Icarius down to him for a sweet and thorough kiss. His moustache teased Icarius’s nose almost to the point of a sneeze. When he finally released him, his fingers continued to knead the muscles at the back of Icarius’s neck. “Thank you, Owen.”

Icarius nipped playfully at his shoulder. “Save the thanks for afterward, and they better be loud. After what I just had to spout, I expect screams.”

Together they undid the harness to Icarius’s wings and laid them on the floor. Icarius kicked them well out of reach. “Don’t want to roll on top of those,” he said. “They’ll slice you up something fierce.”

He deliberately took his time with the borrowed pants, though his fingers shook with the effort to go slowly. Finally Malaraptor—Burke Burke Burke—snarled some Britishism and tore at the pants until he had them bunched around Icarius’s ankles.

“What the hell is this, anyway?” Burke asked. “It’s not your costume.”

“Something I threw on. I think it’s an umpire’s uniform. It had a zebra shirt with it.” He chuckled. “I should have taken the leopard loincloth. Leatherwitch is one kinky lady.”

Between the two of them, they wrestled the unfortunate trousers over his feet. By the time they were done, the pants were inside out and stained with a stripe of pre-cum. Burke tossed them aside. “You’ve started without me. You know I don’t like that.”

“Then haul tail, lizard boy.” Icarius pressed a hot, teasing kiss to his mouth. “If you think you can keep up.”

“Wait. There’s lube in the bedroom.”

“No time.” Icarius yanked Burke’s tacky blue trunks off his hips. With the prize now in sight he swooped down and took the head of Burke’s cock in his mouth.

Oh, how he’d missed this. Burke’s hands in his hair, Burke’s salty taste on his tongue, those quick, sharp growls and hisses that signaled, keep going, you barstid. He took in as much of Burke’s lengthy shaft as he could and slicked it up thoroughly. The sound of his own blood pumped in his ears and widened the girth of his own neglected cock. Icarius reached between his legs and grabbed his rod. While he jerked himself off he suckled desperately in an effort to bring his partner up to speed.

Burke withdrew abruptly from his mouth. Before Icarius could utter a protest Burke bore him back down to the floor and knelt between his knees. “I can’t wait anymore,” he rasped. “You’d better be ready.”

Icarius shut his eyes and widened the spread of his knees. “I was born ready.”