All Souls’ Night: A Midnight Doms Boxset

by Renee Rose

  I nod.

  “Say it.”

  My brain struggles to engage. “I-I’m yours, Sir.”

  His brilliant smile lights the room. “Damned right, you are.” He slowly withdraws, but this time plunges home hard and deep, sliding over some sweet spot in the process and making my toes curl. I think I might be clawing furrows in his back, but if I am, he’s not even registering it.

  His gaze never flinches, never leaves mine.

  “Who do you belong to?”

  “I belong to you, Sir.”

  He sucks on my lower lip. “Who owns you, boy?”

  “You own me, Sir.”

  He nuzzles the side of my neck, nipping me. “I’m going to mark you again, baby. By this time tomorrow, no one will doubt you’re mine.” He picks up the pace, rhythmically fucking me. The crest rapidly approaches as his hips piston and his cock claims me. “You can come… now.”

  I literally feel his cock swell and throb, cool fire flooding my insides as he spends. The world shreds apart around me, a kaleidoscope of colors and pleasure blasting my senses. Tiberius throws his head back, a sexy, mournful cry flooding the room. My back arches, and something tells me my life will never be the same from this night on.

  The ball of iridescent fire starts in my balls and jangles every single cell in my body as it surges through me. It lasts forever and not nearly long enough when I collapse back onto the bed while gasping for air.

  Holy. Crap.

  Tiberius drops his head, nuzzling the front of my throat. He hasn’t pulled out yet and I still feel his cock pulsing inside me.

  When he lifts his head and looks me in the eyes, I realize I’ve literally just given myself to a total stranger.

  Damned if I’ll regret it, either.

  I hope.

  Chapter 12

  As my brains leave my balls and return to my head, I find I’m staring down into my boy’s eyes.

  Mine.

  I realize feeding him back at the club without a conversation first wasn’t wise, but I can’t take it back.

  Rather, I wouldn’t take it back even if I could.

  I’m torn between wanting to admit everything to him right now—the truth about who and what I am—and knowing that’s stupid and foolish and will likely scare him off.

  If he leaves now, he takes my heart with him.

  I guess when I finally do cut loose and take chances, I do it all the way.

  My brothers will never let me hear the end of it. From the teasing congratulations I’ve already received on my cell phone since texting Theophilus that I am taking tomorrow night off, I know it’s a preview of coming snark from them all.

  That’s fine. I’ll take every bit of it with a beaming grin.

  “Are you all right?” I ask.

  He slowly nods before pulling me in for yet another kiss. “That was… amazing.”

  I smile. It’s difficult to resist him. “For me, too.” Glancing at the time, I realize it’s close to dawn. I help him out of bed and lead him to my private bath and into the shower for our second bath tonight. But I want to run my hands all over him, show him how good physical touch is.

  Wipe away his bad memories of his life before.

  Not literally, of course. Metaphorically.

  Not unless he asked me to do that for him. Even then, I’d be loath to take that from him. Because of my age and considerable experience, I do have the ability to more precisely target memories and reshape them, but I don’t enjoy doing it for anything other than the mildest of twinges to protect who and what we are.

  When we finish, while I’m drying him off, he asks, “Why don’t you have a mirror in your bathroom?”

  I silently curse and think of an excuse. “Condensation,” I say. “Because we’re underground. There are mirrors upstairs.”

  The second part, at least, isn’t a lie. And I hate that I’ve stretched the truth to him after promising I wouldn’t.

  The greater good, and all that crap. Right?

  Or am I now lying to myself?

  We return to my bed and snuggle in after I bump the thermostat warm enough to keep him comfortable. Hating myself a little more, I hold him in my arms and tip his chin back so I can look into his eyes. I want a little insurance to make sure he’s in bed with me when I awaken.

  And prevent him from wandering off and getting into trouble I’m not around to save him from. “I think once you fall asleep, you’ll sleep until I wake up.”

  He smiles, nodding. “Yeah.”

  I smile sadly. My precious boy. I’ll have a few years yet before I have to make a decision about whether to turn him or not. If he even wants to be turned. I won’t force him to become a vampire, even though it’d break my heart to lose him so needlessly to old age.

  Because no way am I walking away from him. Ever.

  Nuzzling my nose against his, I deeply inhale. “This was the best night of my life, baby. I swear, I’ll take care of you.”

  A soft, contented sigh escapes him. “Thank you, Sir.” He sounds like he’s almost asleep already.

  My soul can rest at ease during my slumber knowing he’s by my side and safe.

  As I close my eyes and await sleep to take me, I’m amazed how hard and far my life has shifted in a mere twenty-four hours. This time yesterday, I was smiling over the sight of my new car sitting in my garage.

  Tonight?

  The greatest blessing to ever grace my life lies safe in my arms, and in my bed.

  Unbelievable.

  I awaken with a start, panicked to not feel my boy’s warm body pressed against me, just to realize I’ve rolled over at some point in my sleep. He’s no more than three inches away, still curled up almost exactly where he was when I fell asleep.

  Rolling over, I pull him into my arms again as I feel him stirring.

  When he looks up at me, his sweet green eyes are filled with sleepy surprise. “Good morning. Sort of. What time is it?”

  “Around sundown.” I don’t even have to look, because I can feel it. “Hungry?”

  He nods. I’m about to sit up when he rolls on top of me and kisses me. My cock immediately responds.

  Who am I to deny my boy whatever he wants?

  Yep, he’s mine, that’s for sure. Whatever I have to do to convince him of that, I will.

  I need him.

  Slowly, he works his way down my body, to my cock. I really want to be buried inside him again, but if he wants to blow me this time, sure.

  We’ll have all day to fuck around together.

  And the rest of our lives.

  That’s what I tell myself, at least.

  No, he’s not very skilled giving a blowjob, but that’s all right. He makes up for it with enthusiasm, and it still feels damned good.

  Pulling another pillow under my head makes it easier for me to watch him. I cup his head in my hands and gently guide his motions, careful not to gag him with my cock. The blissful feel of the wet heat of his mouth sheathing me is indescribable.

  And I’ve enjoyed countless blowjobs throughout my long life.

  I settle in, watching him, even more in love with him this morning than I was last night.

  Maybe a little part of me worried I’d wake up regretting this.

  Absolutely not.

  My only regret is I didn’t meet him sooner.

  I stare into his eyes, without thralling him, because I want to experience his genuine emotions. “Such a good boy,” I whisper.

  His pulse spikes, throbbing to my sensitive ears.

  “My good boy.” Calling him that is balm to his soul.

  I vow to start every day with him praising him, telling him what he means to me.

  Despite his inexperience, it doesn’t take him long to bring me close to the edge. “I’m going to come, baby. You don’t have to swallow this time, if you don’t want to.”

  But he does. As I erupt, he moans, eagerly swallowing, his eyes dropping closed in bliss as if he was the one who just busted a nut.
/>   It leaves me breathless and sated, satisfied in a way I’ve never felt before except with him.

  This must be Fate.

  I pull him back up into my arms and kiss him, rolling him onto his back so I can return the favor. I don’t bother dragging it out this time, either. I already hear his stomach grumbling and want to get some food into him. That means a trip to the store. But I’ll need to run him home so he can pick up clothes, anyway. That’ll be the excuse I use because I need to see where he lives and convince him to move in with me.

  It’s a near certainty my house is superior to whatever little hole in the wall he can afford on a bakery worker’s salary.

  The taste of his pre-cum rolls down my tongue and I go deep and fast, my hands clamped around his thighs to hold him in place and keep him from squirming away from me with the intensity of his orgasm. His cries drill through to the center of my being, satisfying me even more than my earlier orgasm.

  Only once I’ve made sure he’s finished do I sit up and kiss him. “We need food, baby.”

  Well, he needs food. I need blood, and I have plenty in a fridge down here, in my closet. Vampires can and do eat and drink, but it’s more to be polite, fit in, or because we miss the act and taste of eating and drinking.

  I’m not certain I have any breakfast food in my kitchen right now, honestly.

  He’s still sweetly out of it, come-drunk and adorable as I tug on his arm to sit him up. “I’d rather go shopping than go to a restaurant. You’ll give me your address first, so we can get whatever you need from your place.”

  His eyes go wide as he nods. “Yes, Sir.”

  Okay, so I’m an asshole. I won’t apologize for thralling him that time.

  Not when I want to make him mine as quickly as possible.

  Fifteen minutes later, we’re dressed and, after a quick tour of the house, I take him to the garage.

  Now he realizes it’s a Mercedes.

  “Wow,” he says. “I must have really been tired last night.”

  “You were, baby.” I open and hold the passenger door for him. “We’ll have to go car shopping for you.”

  He stops before getting in, turning to me. “You don’t even know me. How can you say something like that?”

  I shrug, smiling. “I know what I want. As you can see, I have money.”

  He studies me for a moment. “I don’t even have a driver’s license. I couldn’t afford car insurance, anyway. I’ve only driven tractors and four-wheelers.”

  “Then I’ll teach you, baby.” I motion to the car. “Inside. The sooner we get to your place, the sooner we can get groceries and I can feed you.”

  “You sound like you’ve made up your mind about me.”

  “Because I have.” I step closer. “I know what I like, and I go for it without hesitation.”

  He swallows hard and nods, but I think I’ve pushed him to the point of almost being overwhelmed.

  I force myself not to thrall him this time. Finally, he settles into the passenger seat, and I can get behind the wheel. Once we’re both belted in, I hit the garage door opener and back the car into the driveway.

  Evening in Tucson is gorgeous, and I watch him watching the landscape peel past us as I push the car to its limits. When we park outside his apartment building, I fight the urge to laugh. It’s not a shit-hole—thankfully—but it cannot begin to compare to where I live.

  That’s a relief.

  Entering the building, I sniff for any sign of other vampires or shifters and am relieved to scent nothing but humans, and a few domestic pets. He lives on the sixth floor, and we have the elevator to ourselves.

  “How’d you end up here?” I ask.

  “I stayed in a cheap motel for a week while I found a job. I had enough to afford the security deposit here, which is why I picked it. I didn’t want to waste my money on the hotel, and it was farther from the bakery. Also, I can walk to work from here.”

  “My logical boy.” I pull him in for a kiss. “You don’t have to work now.”

  A scowl furrows his brow. “I need to work. I have bills to pay.”

  I don’t want to push this issue here, in public. “We can talk about it later, baby.”

  “Tiberius, we just met. I’m not quitting my job for you.”

  Grumbling under my breath, I nod. “I understand. You need time. That’s fine, but I don’t want you struggling if you don’t have to.”

  “Besides, I couldn’t quit without giving them two weeks’ notice. They’ve been good to me.” The door opens on his floor and I follow him off.

  As we approach his door, I remember we have a slight issue. I could thrall him to invite me in, but that feels like cheating.

  When he unlocks the door, I lounge against the wall next to it. “Going to invite me in, baby?”

  He snorts as he opens the door. “What are you, a vampire?”

  A cold chill rushes through me as he steps inside. It takes me a moment to realize he was joking and regain my equilibrium.

  Part of me wants to scream yes, I am, and deal with this now.

  But… that’d be really fucking stupid, right?

  I stand in the doorway. From what I can see, it’s a tidy efficiency apartment, and—

  “Is that an air mattress?”

  He glances back at me. “Not all of us can afford fancy cars, much less beds.” I sense irritation in his tone.

  Holding up my hands, I try to placate him. “I’m sorry, baby. It’s just I want better for you. We can go shopping for furniture tomorrow for you.”

  Not that he’ll need it for long, because he’ll be living with me, anyway.

  Turning, he drops his keys on the counter. “Are you going to come in, or not?”

  I slide my hands into the pockets of my trousers and try to look casual as I lean against the doorjamb. “I wouldn’t want to come in if I’m not invited.”

  He rolls his eyes. “For Pete’s sake, Ty. Come in.”

  I step inside and then freeze. “What’d you call me?”

  “What?” He swallows hard. “Sorry, Sir.”

  “No.” I walk over and take his hands, pulling him in for a kiss. “I liked that. I don’t let most people shorten my name like that.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “What about your brothers?”

  I shrug. “We all have our quirks. FYI, never call Maximus ‘Max.’ He haaates it.”

  “Duly noted.” He grabs a battered backpack and collects a few things while my mental list of items to get for him grows exponentially.

  He literally has next to nothing. He keeps his clothes in a couple of plastic baskets along the wall. Everything’s neatly folded, don’t get me wrong. He’s very tidy.

  Hard to be messy when you have next to nothing, I suppose. Also means there’s no decorating theme, unless “indoor camping” counts as one.

  That’s not a problem he’ll have much longer, either.

  He just doesn’t realize it yet.

  Chapter 13

  I’ve never had anyone over to my apartment before. I’m trying not to feel self-conscious, considering what Ty’s house looks like, but it’s difficult.

  There’s literally an entire world out there I have no experience with, and it’s clear Ty does. From the obviously expensive art in his house, to his car that’s probably worth at least five times as much as my mother’s house, it’s obvious the man is rich.

  Maybe others would be happy to have a guy suddenly wanting to spend money on them, but it makes me vaguely uncomfortable.

  Scratch that—it makes me totally uncomfortable. I don’t want things simply handed to me. I have no trouble working for a living, and have never resented working. My resentment stemmed from having no control over my life thanks to people who, it turned out, were lying to me from the moment I was born, and who saw no problem with that.

  Ty spots the bag of rolls on my counter. “Did you make those?”

  “Yeah. Yesterday.” That feels like a l
ifetime ago, not twenty-four hours.

  “May I?”

  I shrug. “They’re better fresh, but sure.”

  While I head to the bathroom to get my toothbrush and razor, he opens the zipper-top bag and removes a roll. I know they’re good but it doesn’t lessen my anxiety any.

  I want him to like them.

  “This is delicious,” he calls out.

  My mind automatically scans his tone for any hint of condescension or sarcasm and comes up empty. “Thanks,” I say back.

  This will take some getting used to.

  If it lasts.

  Why should it?

  And with our clothes on—and not surrounded by a roomful of naked people engaged in sexy play—it’s difficult for me to not want to return to my default mindset.

  I don’t want someone controlling me. Not in bad ways, at least. Not the way my parents controlled me. In bed, or in sexy ways? Sure, that’s exactly what I want.

  One of my reasons for leaving home was to escape the bad kind of control my family held over all of us.

  Another benefit of being on my own means validating all the feelings I was forced to suppress while growing up. Acknowledging that I wasn’t wrong to feel the way I did.

  I return from the bathroom and add the last items to my backpack, zipping it closed. “Okay,” I tell him. “I guess I’m ready.”

  He walks over and pulls me into his arms, kissing me and, for a sweet moment, stealing me away from the four walls surrounding us. “Store, then home. I want to cook for you.”

  “Wait, you’re sexy, rich, and you cook?” I hope my tone comes off as playful. “What’s wrong with you? Are you a serial killer?”

  He shrugs, a sexy half-smile curving his mouth. “I’ve been a confirmed bachelor for a long time. Before you, I never found someone who made me feel like this. I’m looking forward to having someone to spoil rotten. What good is working as hard as I have to build a life for myself if I can’t have someone to share it with when I’m ready for that and want that?”

  If there’s a lie in his words, I can’t immediately spot it. He grabs the bag of rolls to bring with us and insists on carrying my backpack for me.

  Yeah, this will take a lot of getting used to. Being spoiled and having someone taking care of me isn’t a familiar mode.