At the Margins of Madness: A Tale of Power and Love
MM paranormal erotic romance
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Both power and love can lead to madness
Nineteen year old Kyle sees visions of disasters, visions that tear his world apart. Everyone assumes that he is schizophrenic, but Rob, the cop who picks him up off the street, knows better. Rob's own experience has taught him that psychic powers are real, and potentially devastating. Since his telepathic sister's brutal murder, Rob wants nothing to do with "gifted" individuals like Kyle. Yet he can't deny his attraction to the beautiful, tortured young man – an attraction that appears to be mutual. When a brilliant, sadistic practitioner of the black arts lures Kyle into his clutches, Rob faces the possibility that once again he may lose the person he loves most to the forces of darkness. |
ExcerptKyle was close, too. For a moment, he allowed himself to really feel Rob’s talented fingers, pulling, massaging, every touch sending waves of delicious sensation surging through him. The man was so strong, so sure of himself, despite his earlier reticence. It has been so terribly long since anyone cared about Kyle’s pleasure. Dizziness fluttered through him. The world lurched a little. No, not now, Kyle pleaded hopelessly. He felt the pressure build. He hung on the edge. Reality tilted, shimmered. No, no, no… “Rob,” he moaned. “Look at me. Please…” The cop heard, even through the fog of his lust. His eyes shot open and Kyle let himself go, falling into those luminous pools of blue. His cock exploded, his cum shooting out over both of their bellies. A train whistle wailed in Kyle’s head, but the world held, long enough for Kyle to feel Rob’s cock convulse and spew hot liquid all over Kyle’s fingers. “Oh, baby,” Rob panted, fastening his mouth on Kyle’s. Kyle wallowed in the wonderful sensations. Heat and wetness, above and below. Rob’s tongue, Rob’s taste, Rob’s hard body pressed against him. Then a black void swallowed him. No light. No feeling. No sound except for Kyle’s own heartbeat, loud in his ears. The words appeared as letters of fire, hanging in the emptiness. ‘Dawson Street Holden’. As Kyle watched, they loomed closer, then disintegrated in a shower of sparks, leaving him in darkness. “Kyle? Kyle!” Rob was shaking him so hard that Kyle’s teeth rattled. “Come back!” The vision fled as swiftly as it had arrived. “Are you all right?” Rob’s brows were knitted in worry. Kyle tried to produce a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I think so. How long was I gone?” “Ten seconds, maybe. I could tell exactly when it happened. One instant I was kissing you, and you were kissing me back. The next instant—it was as though you were an empty shell. No reaction. Nobody there. It was the weirdest thing.” “Well, I remember the kiss.” Kyle lay back on the pillows, overwhelmed by an unaccustomed sense of well-being. “It was really something.” He extended his arms. “Why don’t you lie down and we can try it again.” |
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