Chapter 1

Marlow King had a secret.

He needed to get off at least once a day.

Sometimes twice.

Sometimes more

Sometimes it got embarrassing.

He couldn’t help it! He’d had an overactive sex drive ever since he hit puberty and came into his abilities as a Storm Mage.

Everyone had some magical affinity but, for most people, it was minor. Powerful Mages were rare; Storm Mages even more so. Magic was everyday function more than grand, explosive spells all the time.

Being a Storm Mage was different and meant that Marlow could control and manifest every element that made up the known universe: water, fire, earth, wind, shadow, and light. But that same power running through his veins meant an increased metabolism, which included the most unnecessarily non-existent refractory period ever created.

He’d gone five times back to back once, and that should not be normal!

It also wasn’t nearly as awesome as people might think. When he was in the right frame of mind and wanted to get off, it was great, but if some days he couldn’t spare a few minutes for ‘private time’, his body tended to punish him—with very inopportune boners.

Nice looking man or woman walked by? He was done. Stiff wind? Stiff Marlow. Even a mannequin in a store window could get his blood pumping.

He’d heard rumors that Storm Mages were more amorous than others, but he’d never discussed it with anyone, or met another Storm Mage to confirm what level of amorous was ordinary.

He knew he could have asked a doctor, or even a specialist at the precinct where he worked as a Mage Officer, but he was long past puberty now. He couldn’t just bring it up in conversation, even to a professional. It was embarrassing!

Marlow didn’t even know what getting off felt like without the aid of magic and the ways he’d experimented over the years with different elemental assistance.

Water could be used to create lubricant when he had none, slicking his fingers to stretch himself or ease the slide of his grip over his cock.

Fire warmed his skin.

Earth allowed him to quake and add vibrations to his touch.

Wind blew cool or warm air across his skin and kept the room smelling of pleasant, heady scents that relaxed or stimulated him.

Shadow kept the room dark even at daybreak and dulled ambient noise for peace and quiet.

And light added an invigorating spark like a current of electricity dancing around and through his body.

It was so second nature now to use several if not all those abilities while pleasuring himself that most of it happened automatically the closer he got to finishing.

Marlow was addicted, trying to chase down pleasure that he longed to share with someone else.

Because his real secret was being a twenty-four-year-old virgin.

* * * *

A bolt of lightning thrown at Marlow’s feet made him leap backward. He had plenty of time to dodge, but he was still going to kill Remy for this!

Rembrandt “Remy” Parker was a fellow Mage Officer, but one with almost no natural magic. What little he possessed had to be channeled through MagiTech, marble-sized devices that could store the intended magical effect their user desired and cast it like a real spell—which meant he couldn’t hold his own in a sparring match against a powerful Mage, let alone a Storm Mage, without equipment, yet Marlow was still getting his ass kicked!

“Do you think the great Merlin relied on magic alone?” Remy taunted him, darting about the large, empty sparring room, always just out of reach. The room was nothing but plain walls, ceiling, and floor to allow for the most widespread use of spells.

“Merlin is a fairytale!” Marlow fired a lightning bolt back at him, which Remy expertly shielded. “You’re just a jackass!”

He knew Remy couldn’t have reached the same rank as him at the same young age if he wasn’t good, but that wasn’t the point. It had become common curtesy between them that they traded off who was victor since they were evenly matched. And Remy wasn’t letting him win!

The last thing Marlow needed after a crummy week was that damnable smirk.

Remy was undeniably handsome and all lean muscle, still noticeable and alluring even with his body fully covered. They didn’t wear sweats and T-shirts when they sparred; it wasn’t true to how they faced real criminals, so Remy looked like a noir detective in his all-black suit, tie, and driving gloves, though he also had an eccentric streak to his wardrobe.

Tonight, he was wearing a skirt over tightly fit trousers.

No—a kilt

“You think the first Storm Mage was a fairytale?” Remy scoffed. “Great spirits of Avalon forgive you.”

Marlow threw up a wall of fire where Remy was headed, but Remy cast Water through his MagiTech as if he’d anticipated that move exactly. “He existed, fine. Maybe even the Morrigan, too, but if Arthur had a magical sword, then he made it out of light, not steel!”

“Purist.”

“Urg!”

They made a tapestry in contrasting monochromes as they danced around each other, since Marlow was a swath of silver and grey, and Remy’s skin was as dark as his clothing, with his short-cropped hair and practically pupil-less eyes equally black.