by J. Emery
"Where are you taking me?" His hands clutched awkwardly at Morgan's back, looking for somewhere to rest.
"Well there really aren't a whole lot of choices at the moment so it's basically the cabin or... the cabin. Take your pick." He nudged the door open and paused. He hadn't thought past the part about getting inside and getting his hands on Ezra. His gaze fell on the table. That would do. He bent to set Ezra atop it.
Wide black eyes regarded him with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. Ezra's hands pressed flat against the surface of the wood. He licked his lips. Then, without looking away, he leaned back and spread his legs, welcoming Morgan in. They fit together perfectly. He placed his hands over Ezra's. "I don't usually do things like this," he admitted. "Ever." An understatement. He hadn't had a date in years, not since he'd given in to his family's demands to join the business and given up on normal, on trying to fake it because he'd known he was never going to be the real thing.
Ezra blushed. His cheeks puffed as he struggled for words. "I don't..." His sigh felt like an eternity. "I don't either. I mean—I haven't. Ever." His face was strawberry red. "Stop looking at me and say something," he demanded.
"Never? Not with a human or not at all? Not with another vampire?"
"They're family," he cried, rearing back so far he almost tipped off the table. "No."
"Oh."
"I know what I look like, how I act. You don't have to say it." He swallowed roughly. The blush spread to his ears and he looked down.
"I wasn't going to—"
"I wanted it to be... special. To mean something, at least to me. Maybe not romance and flowers and poetry, but something. And I've practically been under lock and key because of the fighting between the clans so there was never a chance anyway, not until now, so I thought never mind special and perfect, but then they took me and everything is a mess now so please just kiss me."
Morgan didn't need to be begged twice. Even though logic was screaming at him in the mingled voices of half his family. It didn't matter. None of it mattered as much as his hands on Ezra's thighs, pulling their bodies flush together, as he kissed him again. He expected the prickle of fangs, but there was nothing but soft lips against his. Ezra's arms circled his neck again. One leg wrapped around his hips and then the other followed.
"Okay but later we need to talk about whatever you just said," Morgan added, pulling back just enough to look the vampire in the eye. "I mean it." When Ezra frowned, Morgan kissed him, sucking at his lower lip and biting until he got another open-mouthed moan for his efforts. "I mean it."
Ezra nodded.
Morgan's hand moved under the sweater, smoothing over Ezra's stomach. He was trembling. Morgan didn't think it was all from excitement. "Nervous?"
In answer, Ezra yanked the sweater off and tossed it at the couch. When he laughed, his head tipped back in a move seemingly designed to give Morgan better access. "Fuck yes. But if you stop touching me right now, I'll never forgive you. I've wanted this so long." He bucked, rolling his hips against Morgan.
Without the sweater, Morgan could see the tattoos he'd only caught glimpses of before. They covered much of Ezra's upper body, words and some kind of sigils decorating him from hips to collarbones. He pressed his lips to a network of stars high on Ezra's shoulder. Connected the dots with his tongue. "What are these for? Does it mean anything?"
Ezra whimpered. "Family."
"And this one?" He traced delicate fingers along the string of characters that rested over the breastbone before he dipped in to taste them, enjoying every broken cry he caused.
Ezra's head dropped back. He was half lying atop the table now, only propped up by his elbows and willpower. "In occulto securitas. Our motto."
Morgan didn't understand but he nodded. He'd already spied his next target—a twisted vine that dipped low over Ezra's abdomen and curled around to his back. When he nipped at the sensitive spot over one hip, Ezra jumped and swore so Morgan sucked a mark into the skin, holding Ezra still while he writhed. So much power at his fingertips. All of it contained, leashed to his whims, while Ezra begged wordlessly for release. Morgan had never wanted to torment anyone so badly. To be paid in pleas and sobs. If this was going to be a first, he wanted it to be memorable, the kind of special Ezra would remember long after today and this cabin. Long after they'd gone their separate ways. Morgan wanted to write the memory into his skin just as deeply as all those tattoos.
He palmed Ezra's cock, still trapped beneath layers of fabric, as he lavished more attention on the lines curving over his skin. "Does this really go all the way around?"
Ezra answered with another of those beautiful shattered sounds and a nod.
"Show me."
He sat up shakily and shifted onto hands and knees on the table, legs spread to keep his balance, back arched, ass a perfect curve presented to him atop stiletto heels. It wasn't what Morgan had meant but shit, the sight went straight to his cock in a way he never could have foreseen. He was ready to build monuments dedicated to the sight of Ezra on his knees, trembling and needy. He wanted it branded into his memory. "Holy fuck, you're beautiful."
Another tattoo ran the length of Ezra's back, a masterpiece in ink. It looked like a tree but not any kind Morgan had ever seen before. The branches spread up from around Ezra's spine in barbed lines, weaving together like wings, one segment over each shoulder blade, before the branches bowed back down and terminated in a rain of red stars. Morgan spanned it with both hands before dipping in to kiss his way along each shoulder blade and the swirls of inked filigree that ran between them. By the time Morgan reached his waist and the final curves of the roots that wrapped around his hips, Ezra was panting hard, hips moving in a stuttering rhythm. His hands curled into fists.
Morgan grinned and twined the fingers of one hand with Ezra's on the table. They looked good like that. His other hand traced the curve of Ezra's ass, enjoying every flex of muscle and roll of hips as the vampire fought to stay still. Beautiful. And all his. Morgan kissed the nape of his neck. "What do you want?"
"You. I want you." A hungry noise spilled from his lips as he reached back and pulled Morgan's mouth back to his. "Tell me what to do. Please."
The ache in his voice had Morgan seeing some stars of his own.
"Then get down here and take your clothes off." His arms wrapped tight around Ezra's waist as he swung him off the table and set his feet on the floor so they could face each other.
Ezra's hands shook as he did as he was told, baring lean thighs and a straining cock, teetering on his heels when Morgan stopped him from doing more.
"No. Just like that. That's good." He kissed him one more time, tongue invading Ezra's mouth as he reached down to stroke him. There was a creaking sound as Ezra's grip tightened on the edge of the table, fingers sinking deep into the wood.
Morgan laughed. "Shit, you're beautiful," he said as he dropped to his knees.
EZRA CAME APART. NOT just in fragments and slivers but everything all at once until he was nothing but raw nerves and need and fire. Bright and gold and please please please don't stop. He must have said the words out loud because Morgan laughed, the vibrations of it buzzing against his cock as Morgan took him into his mouth. Ezra clutched desperately at the table. His legs shook. His breath lodged in his throat.
Morgan licked and sucked his way from root to crown, fingers so tight on his hips it seemed like he might even be able to keep Ezra from flying away. He held him, held him still, held him here. Ezra narrowed to a series of bright points. A constellation of every place Morgan touched him. Fingers on his hip. Sliding down to his thigh. Morgan's mouth surrounding him. His tongue. Oh gods, his tongue. Everything about it was warm and sweet.
It lasted too long and not nearly long enough before Ezra came, one long moan torn out of him as he fell back across the table breathing hard. Behind his eyelids everything was bright. His body felt boneless. Pliable. It took all his effort to breathe and hold onto Morgan's shoulders. He didn't argue as Morgan removed one boot
then the other and set them carefully aside before freeing him from the tangled legs of his pants that had hobbled him and kept him from kicking. He knew he had tried. His skin prickled with awareness, cool air wrapping around him before it was replaced by the warmth of Morgan's body carrying him to the couch.
"I can walk," he said, nestling his head against Morgan's shoulder.
"I like carrying you though. I like that you let me."
Ezra's hand rested on Morgan's stomach. "But we didn't finish. Did we?" It was hard to think around the relaxed haze overtaking his brain. No wonder people liked sex so much if it made everything this soft when it was done.
"Oh, we definitely did."
A kiss landed on the top of his head.
5
They curled up on the couch together, a blanket wrapped around their shoulders and Ezra wrapped around Morgan—who was still almost fully dressed, he noticed. Morgan hadn't taken off his shirt until after. A network of old scars lay beneath, faint spots and newer streaks of pink against his golden-brown skin, some lost beneath the dark hair on his chest.
Ezra stiffened at the brand-new scratches on Morgan's shoulders, raised lines of red that neatly fit the shape of his hands. "Oh shit. I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."
Morgan grinned at him. "I'm not complaining." He leaned up to kiss Ezra, one hand tangling in his hair.
"I tried not to. I didn't want to hurt you."
"You didn't. I've gotten worse than this just wrangling my nieces and nephew." Morgan peered up into his face, a wicked sparkle in his eyes. "But if you're so worried maybe next time we'll just have to strap you down."
Each word was like a jolt of electricity straight through him. Ezra blushed, burying his face against Morgan's shoulder so he wouldn't see. "There's going to be a next time?" That was easier to focus on. Safer.
"I was hoping so, yeah." Morgan's touch played over Ezra's spine until he was practically vibrating with pleasure again.
He'd started to drift off into a contented doze when Morgan cleared his throat. "There's really no good time to ask this, but how about you explain what you were talking about earlier? You said a lot of words real fast and I only caught about half of it, but it sounded... serious."
Ezra's immediate reaction was to say "no" and wriggle out of Morgan's lap. He stood, taking the blanket with him as he stomped off to find his clothes. The sweater might technically be Morgan's, but after two days it was as good as his. He tugged it on. "I was hoping you forgot about that." He threw the blanket at Morgan's head.
The hunter had the audacity to smile, stretching his arms over the back of the couch. "Nope."
"This is why I hate humans. You don't know anything."
"You didn't hate me when your dick was in my mouth." He patted the couch at his side. "Come back over here so we can talk."
"Don't tell me what to do," Ezra snapped, but his feet were already carrying him closer. He sat with his back against the armrest, as far away as he could get, planted both feet against Morgan's thigh, and pushed in an effort to force him to move over.
Instead of obliging, Morgan wrapped one big hand around his ankle and tugged gently. "Talk to me."
"Why do you even care?" He sounded petulant, he knew.
Morgan's expression was curious as he shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe because we're both stuck here for at least another day and I still barely know a thing about you besides the fact that you're a vampire and sucking you off was the best thing I've done in years. I'd like to do it again sometime soon. But first I'd like to know why you showed up here half starved and covered in bruises. You laughed off all my attacks so I'm guessing it had to be something pretty big to do that to you. Thought you might want to talk about it."
Ezra pulled weakly against the grip on his ankle, testing it. Morgan let go. That hadn't been his intention. He'd only wanted to test the feeling, to find the shape of it, the edges and the angles. It was still new to be touched by anyone beyond family. Most were too scared. Those that weren't, wanted something. It was part of why he'd never accepted any of the offers he'd gotten over the years—and there had been plenty. No matter how much they might have wanted Ezra they would always want his family more. Their name, their status, their money, their favor. But Morgan seemed to be content with the touch itself. Skin against skin. Ezra reached down and put Morgan's hand back where it had been, closing his fingers around one ankle. Almost immediately Morgan's thumb began to massage in slow circles. Ezra focused on that instead of the words he had to find.
"It's not like it was my aim to be lost in the woods in the snow," he began. Petulant again. He didn't care. It was a familiar habit too. As the youngest he got whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it—as long as what he wanted wasn't freedom. There was always someone there to watch over him. Nannies as a child. Then he'd graduated to tutors. Minders. Bodyguards. Spies, more like. These last few days were the closest he'd ever been to alone and the longer it went on the more terrifyingly real it became. He felt like a flipped coin, both sides flashing as they caught the light.
He missed his family.
He never wanted to go back.
Family.
Freedom.
Why couldn't he have both? Why had things gone so horribly awry? All he'd wanted was what was his already—life, and the ability to live it.
And, like a wedge between the two halves of him, sat that spike of fear. A mean little voice said he'd deserved it all. For running away. For being willful.
He looked down, spotting a hangnail. His manicure was ruined. He picked at the chipped polish that remained, unable to look at Morgan as he spoke, his voice carefully flat. Told like that it could be someone else's life.
"It's not a brief story," he said. "But I can tell it to you. If you want."
"I do."
"I explained the clans to you before. The infighting. Politics. The only thing that happens when you live centuries is that you can keep grudges longer and harder than anyone."
"So you really do live that long, huh?"
"Yes."
"How old are you then? You don't look that old."
Ezra flushed. "Twenty-four. Stop interrupting."
"Huh." Morgan lips turned out in a thoughtful pout. "We're practically the same age. That's a surprise. Go on."
"I've been trying—"
"Wait, one more question first: were you turned? How does that work?"
Ezra kicked him in the thigh. "I said stop interrupting. And no it doesn't work that way. Not with us. I mean... we can. Even I could turn someone if I wished. But it's against our laws. No turning without an appeal to the clan leader first, which is part of the problem. Some are very lax. Sloppy. And they outnumber us now. Turning is unpredictable. It's just as likely to make a monster as a lesser vampire. If you've ever seen what you thought was a vampire, it was probably one of those. That's why it's supposed to be monitored."
"So you..."
Ezra glared at Morgan. "I was never human. Vampires can have children, you know. I have a number of siblings that could prove that to you. We're just uncommon. My next older sister would have been forty-six now. They weren't even expecting me so soon."
"Would have?"
"Dead. Killed in a fight with another clan. I was born not long after, much to everyone's surprise. The miracle child. But the wars still continued and it only took one security breach to sentence me to an armed guard for every one of my twenty-four fucking years."
Morgan's fingers drummed lightly against Ezra's shin as he looked him up and down. "And yet here you are," he drawled.
Ezra looked away. "I snuck out. Again, technically. It's what I do when I can't take it anymore. Previous attempts ended much more quickly." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Morgan raise an eyebrow. "One of my brothers usually. He's very good at finding me. And back to my seclusion I would go, everyone watching me like a hawk until enough time passed and they forgot they had ever worried about me."
"But not this time."
"No.
Not this time." Ezra bit his lip. Unease crawled beneath his skin, vibrating up and out from every pore. "I fucked up. Badly. I just wanted to go out. Alone. For one night. So I paid a witch to help me get out of the building without anyone knowing. It was only a simple spell to cover my presence. A friend had used her before and they vouched for her skills. I planned everything so perfectly." He nipped at the hangnail with his teeth. Shrank in on himself.
"I didn't think anyone would recognize me at the club, but they must have somehow. The human I left with... it was a setup. They weren't alone and they were prepared for me. Vampires I would have sensed. Blood calls to blood. I thought being around humans would be safer." He waved a hand. It was shaking. He curled it into a fist in his lap so Morgan wouldn't see. "I don't know where they took me, but when I woke up I was in a house in the woods and I felt a vampire getting closer so I panicked. I thought it might be one of the other clans. Like my family warned me." Morgan looked horrified. Ezra didn't like having put that expression on his face. "I didn't kill any of them. And I didn't drink. I just ran," he assured him almost desperately.
Morgan shook himself like he'd been in a trance. "You were... kidnapped. By another vampire clan?"
Ezra nodded slowly. He had no other explanation for it.
"That's why you showed up here like that? Holy shit. That sounds scary as hell."
Maybe it was the look on his face or the absolute certainty with which he'd said it, or maybe just the fact that Ezra was warm and safe with someone he should have been neither with, but finally something cracked, a fissure straight through his breastbone and into his heart. He burst into tears.
Morgan gathered him up in strong arms, hands rubbing the tension out of his back, soft voice babbling comforting nonsense in his ears. "It's okay, baby. You're safe now. You're safe."
Ezra sobbed against his chest, melting into every touch and whispered word. Fingers ran down his spine like water. Wrapped in the smell that was uniquely Morgan. He might never be able to smell chocolate again without immediately reaching for Morgan.
