Alasdair

by Ella Frank

  When both males were kneeling back to front, Leo couldn’t help from looking down to Alasdair’s stiff cock.

  Get on the bed, Alasdair commanded, and Leo’s eyes flew to the vampire Vasilios. He wasn’t sure why he bothered, though, because the next thing Leo knew, he was climbing on the mattress and lying flat on his back through no will of his own.

  Once he was situated with his legs spread wide, Leo thought his heart might fly out of his chest as Vasilios ran his tongue up the side of Alasdair’s neck, licking the blood trickling down his skin.

  Leo’s cock pounded at the visual they made, and he wanted nothing more than to be able to get himself off to them. But he couldn’t. He was trapped in his body, save for the movement of his eyes. So he lay there and waited for whatever would happen next.

  God, let them touch me, he thought, staring up at the feral-looking vampire getting ready to… What did Alasdair call it?

  Fuck and feed. He’s going to fuck me while he feeds, Leonidas. And you are going to watch.

  Leo couldn’t stop the ragged sound that left him then, when Alasdair moved down over him and planted his hands on either side of his head. His face was so close that Leo wanted to crane up and take his lips with his own, but when he tried, he realized he was still under Alasdair’s will.

  “He really is poli omorfos, agóri. I see the allure. It won’t be a hardship to watch him come when we do. Until then, keep your yielding still.”

  Alasdair grunted in response as Vasilios sank his teeth back into his neck and then delivered a hard thrust to his body. Leo’s eyes widened at the disturbing display but couldn’t stop himself from watching.

  He wanted to touch the man whose muscles were shaking as he held himself in place for the one who groaned and sucked from his vein. Or better yet, he wanted to touch himself where his pants were open and his shaft throbbed against his thigh.

  This is insane, Leo thought. Totally fucking insane. But when Vasilios raised his head and his teeth left Alasdair’s throat, Alasdair lowered his body a fraction farther and dragged it over his.

  When the long, hard length of Alasdair’s cock grazed his own, Leo’s eyes squeezed shut from the eroticism of it.

  Mhmm.

  Alasdair’s raspy groan of sexual gratification pushed into Leo’s mind right before a hoarse shout left his lips. Leo opened his eyes at the cry, and he didn’t have to be behind him to know that Vasilios had just re-entered Alasdair.

  The hands by his head clenched the covers, and Alasdair’s nostrils flared at the brutal force of the thrust. Then his eyes found Leo’s and he licked those lush lips. There was no doubt Alasdair lived for this kind of possession.

  Still trapped as he was, Leo could do nothing more than lie there. Every time the vampire shoved his cock in and out of Alasdair, Alasdair would grind his erection hard against Leo’s, causing one hell of a mess as sticky pre-come dripped from its tip.

  He might not have voluntarily come to this bed, but now that he was there, watching the hedonistic smorgasbord unfold, all he could hope for was some kind of completion before it ended. Because, if not, he might die from the amount of frustration he was enduring.

  VASILIOS’S FINGERS DUG into Alasdair’s neck as his cock tunneled into his body. He could tell by the way his sire’s hips had picked up pace that he was about to strike again, and when Vasilios halted both their movements and his teeth once again fastened to his carotid, Alasdair felt as though his eyes would roll to the back of his head.

  The pleasure was sublime. There was none other like it. It was both brutal and beautiful, and the feeling was a fucking rush.

  When he’d first invited Leo over, it’d been with the intention of distracting Vasilios from whatever slight he’d been feeling. However, the second Leo had stopped by the bed, his sire’s fingers had grasped his shoulder and Alasdair was certain he’d miscalculated.

  But when he’d gotten Leo up on the mattress and under them, Vasilios had sunk his teeth into his throat, along with his conditions—You can have him join, but he doesn’t touch you. Not while I feed—and the vicious fucking he was now receiving was the result.

  Underneath him, Leo lay with his legs open and his pants undone. His cock was flushed and engorged, and Alasdair knew exactly what Leo wanted right then: to fuck his fist until he came.

  But he couldn’t risk it. Not until Vasilios was ready.

  When his shoulder was released, and he was pushed down over Leo, Alasdair started to really grind his cock against the man.

  This was Vasilios’s way of allowing him to get off now that his climax was near, so Alasdair took advantage and began to chase his own orgasm. He knew the quickest way to get it would be to release Leo’s body back to him, so he closed his eyes and did just that.

  THE MINUTE ALASDAIR’S eyes shut, Leo’s body came back under his control. He reached down and shoved his pants below his hips as Alasdair rolled his over the top of him. Fucking yes…that feels amazing, Leo thought and arched up in response, wanting to feel that beautiful bare cock along his.

  He kept his eyes open, determined not to become overwhelmed, but it was difficult because this was the hottest fucking thing he’d ever been a part of—even though, subconsciously, he knew he hadn’t had a choice at all.

  Their erections lined up perfectly, and the weight of Alasdair’s body on top of his was deliciously insistent as the third male in this hell of a mindfuck beared down over them both.

  Leo bowed up again into the solid body rub he was receiving, and when his eyes moved beyond Alasdair’s face to the striking one of his lover, his mind almost shut down on him. Lust and fever shone in Vasilios’s eyes, and Alasdair’s blood stained his lips as he licked them and his teeth retracted.

  “Oh shit,” Leo whispered, awed by what he was seeing. Then Alasdair bent his head and dragged his tongue up along his neck.

  The pulse thudding at the base of his throat must’ve been like a red flag to these two, but Leo couldn’t help the erratic beating of his heart. He was too aroused, too caught up in the moment being created by the perverse vampires looming over him, to care.

  All he wanted was to come. He wanted Alasdair to bite him, and then he wanted to come all over the both of them. Hell, all over the three of us. Wait a second. What the fuck am I thinking?

  Exactly what I am. Alasdair’s thought hit his mind the second his lips crushed down onto his.

  As his tongue slid inside, Leo moaned into the kiss and sucked on the sensual intruder. He propelled his hips up, desperately trying to find some relief for his aching balls, and then Alasdair jerked his head back and bared his fangs as hot, sticky fluid hit Leo’s stomach.

  The sight was so fucking brutish and carnal that Leo’s own climax raced down his spine wanting release, and just when he was about to explode—it happened.

  That fucking bright shard of light that had him squeezing his eyes shut—and suddenly, his vision changed.

  NO LONGER LYING underneath Alasdair, Leo froze. He was on his stomach as a breeze drifted across his skin. His erection was still pounding, and he was about to push up and look around when a strong body crowded down behind him, pressing him to the pallet that lay on the hard ground beneath him.

  “Uh ah. Do not move. It is time.”

  As that familiar, lyrical tone met his ears, Leo became motionless. The man behind him was…

  Oh shit, this can’t be happening. Not now.

  But when he was flipped over onto his back with no effort at all, he knew that it was. There, hovering over him, was Vasilios, and he was gloriously naked and very aroused.

  Leo’s eyes shifted frantically to take in his surroundings, and that’s when he realized they were no longer in the bedroom from earlier. No longer where Alasdair was on the bed with the two of them.

  He was back in the bathhouse.

  Back in time.

  Where Alasdair was nowhere in sight.

  Leo was about to speak, but the male’s fangs appeared as he reverently brushed a
side a piece of his long hair.

  Finally, Leo understood what was going on. He wasn't seeing Alasdair in the vision because, this time, he was—

  “Alasdair, son of Lapidos. You do not know how long I have waited for you.”

  Then those sharp points sank into his neck and Leo lost consciousness.

  “DO YOU CARE to explain what just happened here, Alasdair?”

  Alasdair heard the question linger in the air as he closed his eyes and collapsed onto the mattress. His body was listless after being so well used. He’d been drained of his blood, his energy, and the will to speak at all.

  He rolled onto his back and placed his hands behind his head. Vasilios was at the other end, leaning against the solid headboard, his legs stretched out, crossed at the ankles. He was studying him with intense focus.

  “Alasdair,” Vasilios said again, nudging his naked hip with his toes.

  He looked over at where Leo was passed out beside them. He wanted to explain what had happened in those last few seconds, when Leo’s eyes had snapped wide open and he’d seemed to leave their plane of existence. But the problem was he didn’t have any answers that would satisfy his sire.

  I don’t even have any that satisfy me.

  He had a strange sensation of unease. It was as if his confidence had somehow disappeared because Leo, a human, had him all twisted up inside. Usually, he’d have no problem discussing anything with Vasilios. But he’d left things too long, and now, he was so caught up in his misplaced pride and arrogance of being defeated that he’d let his fixation with unraveling the hows turn into something more.

  At least, that’s what he was telling himself.

  There was no other logical explanation as to why he was so consumed by the man.

  He stared at Vasilios, who was watching him while stroking a lazy finger up and down Alasdair’s leg. Then he narrowed his eyes on him.

  “You missed a very important meeting this past month. I’m surprised you haven’t bothered to ask me about it. Or have you been so preoccupied that you forgot it even took place?”

  The meeting. Fuck, it had slipped his mind. After the night he’d been punished and the days he’d spent healing, Alasdair had been hell-bent on getting back to Leo. Any thoughts of meetings or brood business had gone by the wayside, and as the realization of how he’d been acting hit him, Alasdair discovered his behavior really had changed.

  Then Vasilios spoke, bringing him back to the present. “Several weeks back, the other Ancients and I received some information—”

  “From who?” Alasdair interrupted, and then he caught himself and fell silent.

  “Ypomoní̱. It was left in the Chamber, up on the podium, a place no one can enter unless extremely powerful. A scroll with ancient writings on it, a message sent to us. It stated that our time walking the Earth was coming to a close. That the end was near. The threat resembled many we’ve received in the past. One full of false posturing and annihilation. That’s when we knew we were dealing with something unlike anything any of us have seen.”

  “What do you mean unlike anything you have seen?” Alasdair asked, keeping his eyes locked with Vasilios’s.

  “The message made a direct reference to our true beginnings. Whoever sent that correspondence knows far more than anyone we’ve faced in the past.” Vasilios seemed to think over his next words as he sat up and studied him carefully. “We sent Stratos to seek out a messenger. To learn if they had heard anything or knew anything that we did not. The plan was to get the information from him and then tell you and your cousins what we had learned. But now, thanks to you, we have a problem. I’ve recently been informed that Stratos met with a rather horrid ending last night. So any information he may have had died with him.”

  Oh fuck. Fuck, Alasdair thought as he slowly crossed his legs and reached for the sheet. He couldn’t tell what was going on behind Vasilios’s sharp gaze, but he wanted to be covered as much as possible—all things considered.

  “I apologize,” he started, not knowing what else to say. How was he to have known that Stratos had been gathering information for them? Why didn’t the damn vampire say so?

  “Apologies are a little too late now. I don’t know what to do with you anymore, Alasdair. First, it was your lack of obedience with me, and now, this? Your usual stringent control snapping and leaving a destructive path in its wake?” Vasilios sighed. “We were keeping this quiet until we knew more. Stratos was under strict instructions—”

  “Compulsion,” Alasdair muttered, finally understanding the male’s willingness to die. “He was under compulsion.”

  “Yes. He’d been compelled to keep his mouth shut about his assignment.”

  “Even if it meant his death?”

  Vasilios’s eyes flared at his judgmental tone. “Why are you so surprised? He isn’t the first. The males know what they sign up for as one of the guard. His use to us was to extract information. He was happy to do so. Maybe not so happy to die, however. Alasdair, our number-one priority is to keep you and your cousins safe. But it’s also vital that we keep the lair calm. If we were to mention there was a threat to our very existence, you know the reaction that would follow. We aren’t the most…rational of creatures. We didn’t want to alert anyone of danger on a mere hunch. We wanted facts.”

  Alasdair stared at Vasilios as he tried to understand what his Ancient was telling him—but he wasn’t close to being finished yet.

  “It seems, however, we are no longer going to be afforded those since you tore Stratos’s head off. That temper of yours makes you act impulsively. There was a reason all those years ago that you learned to curb it. I wish you would remember that.” Vasilios paused, his inspection making Alasdair uneasy. “Not only have you disappointed me, but you’ve put your cousin in a most unpleasant situation. Diomêdês is dealing with her as we speak. The two of you made a thoughtless decision last night. And due to it, we have no advantage.”

  Alasdair tried to feel bad about what he’d done, but he was finding it difficult when he felt he’d been acting blind. Isadora had taken him to the Adjudication Room and presented a traitor, and he’d dealt with him accordingly. Stratos’s taunting him was his own bad luck.

  Along with being compelled, that is.

  The thought had barely entered his mind when Vasilios had him flat on his back beside Leo and his hands restrained by his head.

  “You see? This is what I mean. You are preoccupied. This human has you acting defiant and rash,” he bit out by his ear, enunciating each word. “And while I admit to liking that while I’m inside you, out there, you are fucking things up for us, Alasdair.”

  The way Vasilios’s eyes darkened to black conveyed his fury. He was enraged, and Alasdair kept quiet—now wasn’t the time to speak. He swallowed, more a reflex than anything else, as he stared into the irate face hovering over his own. This was the second time in only weeks he’d seen anger, disappointment, and confusion on his sire’s face. He wished he could unsee it.

  When Vasilios’s lips parted and his fangs extended in a snarl, Alasdair realized his misstep.

  “I did not mean that how it sounded,” he rushed out.

  “Is that so? Because I have never heard you think it before.”

  Alasdair pushed himself up off the bed, wondering if Vasilios would relent. He had his answer when the other vampire rolled to his back, allowing him on top.

  “I was merely reflecting on my wrongdoings. You know that. Don’t make this what it is not due to a mood.”

  “A mood? What am I, an irritable housewife? Forgive me, agóri, but your actions hardly convince me of what you’re trying to make me believe.”

  Alasdair stretched out over the top of him, and then he laid his head on his shoulder. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt guilty—yet another emotion he’d not experienced since becoming immortal. The only thing was, he wasn’t sure if the guilt was towards the one underneath him or the one on the bed beside them.

  As he lay there, he realized ho
w imperative it was that things went back to the way they had always been. He had an obligation, a duty to his brood, and his very existence was entwined with the one whose body his was currently molded to. He couldn’t afford any more fuck-ups, and it was time to let his obsession go.

  “I never would have done what I did last night had I known,” he admitted quietly. “How can I fix this?”

  Vasilios stroked a hand down his back, and Alasdair was curious whether or not he would tell him. Perhaps he would make him wait if he doubted his loyalty, but then he started to talk.

  “Unless you can bring back the dead, Alasdair, nothing will fix what you did.”

  “I have yet to master that particular power.”

  “Hmm. Nor have I.”

  “But surely you could send me or someone else to speak with this messenger—”

  “No,” Vasilios said, the word sharp and final. “This threat, it is different. It has us…”

  Alasdair lifted his head and waited. He’d never seen Vasilios hesitate for anything.

  “It has you what?”

  His Ancient’s eyes connected with his, now back to their usual green, and Alasdair was surprised to see an edge of fear in them.

  “It has us concerned. You and your cousins are not to go after the messenger. Do I make myself clear?”

  “No, you do not.” Alasdair shifted to the side of him and stroked his fingers down his sire’s cheek. “You know that Isa, Thanos, and I can each be trusted, so let us help. Or is there another reason I am missing? What aren’t you telling me?”

  Vasilios reached for the finger now tracing his jaw and brought it to his lips. He reverently kissed the end of it and then gave a grim smile. “Diomêdês, Eton, and I—we were all named in the initial message that was sent.”

  “That’s not so unusual, is it? The Ancients are always named in threats to our kind.”

  “Yes, we are. But this is the first time you have been threatened to achieve our destruction. That means they know how our bloodlines work, Alasdair. They know that, to dispose of you three, they will effectively be cutting the heart from the body.”