Desire After Dark: Lords of Pleasure

by Jo Carlisle

  Hurt speared her. “I didn’t give you that chance when I rescued you from a life of poverty and hunger? Of constant fear, selling yourself for money? I slit a man’s throat and took you away from all of that.”

  “You did, my goddess.” His brown eyes begged her to understand. “And that’s what you’ll always be to me. A goddess who doesn’t get half the credit she deserves for being a strong, passionate protector. You call me ‘slave,’ but you’ve always been a friend to me, and I’ll never forget that.”

  The tears spilled. Dammit.

  “But?”

  “I need to fly. To be the man I was meant to be,” he said earnestly. “I want to serve in your guard, to be of more use to you than just in your bed. Not that I don’t treasure those times, and I’ll always be here when you need me, but—”

  “I understand,” she said. And it was the truth.

  “You’ve had me practicing with the men for ages, and I have a knack for fighting. You’ve seen my skills with the sword. Hell, I nearly bested you! I can hold my own.” It was so important to him that she see.

  “You can do much more than hold your own, Taryn.” She gave him a watery smile. Let him go to make his way, Kass. If you don’t, he’ll be lost when you die. “You’re going to make a fine guardsman.”

  For a moment he appeared stunned. Then he laughed and scooped her into his arms, swinging her around. Eventually he let her slide down his body, setting her on the floor carefully. “I’m going to make you proud. I’m going to help find your mate and bring him home.”

  She stared at him. “How did you know?”

  “That he’s your mate?” He shook his head. “I know you better than anyone, including those selfish sisters of yours. I’d have to be blind and deaf not to notice that you two are completely crazy for each other.”

  “You constantly amaze me.”

  “I’ll find him, mistress. Believe that.” Curling a finger under her chin, he kissed her with slow passion, not like a slave who’d ask for a kiss but like a man would take it.

  With a half smile, he released her and started down the corridor.

  “Taryn?”

  He halted, then gazed at her over his shoulder. “Yes, mistress?”

  “My name is Kassandra,” she whispered.

  A smile curved his sexy lips. “That it is. Kassandra,” he murmured.

  And then he was gone.

  Luc shivered as he huddled naked on the dirt floor of the cage. He couldn’t get warm. He rubbed his arms, but it didn’t help. His skin was like ice.

  The bastards had taken his collar—the one Kass had gifted to him. He’d awakened, head pounding and mouth dry as cotton, to discover his neck was bare and he was burning. Literally. He was leaning against the silver bars of the cage, and they didn’t care that his skin sizzled like bacon. They ignored his shouts of pain.

  “Let him cook,” one had said. “He’s a vampire. He’ll heal after his new master takes him home.”

  He’d gotten a look at them at that point. Ogres. At least he thought they were. Big, green, and ugly, with broad noses and big fat bellies and asses. He couldn’t fathom what else they could possibly be. For sure, no one would ever kidnap one of them to serve as a body slave.

  He refrained from saying that out loud, though.

  How long ago had that been? Two days? Three? Time had run together here in the dark, with no food or blood. He was so hungry, if a rat were to tread too near, he’d snatch it, drain the poor beast, and consume it. He’d get through this. Gods knew, he’d survived worse in eighteenth-century France.

  But it burned him that those assholes had managed to snatch him right off the street. The ogres had been out looking for prey to sell in the slave market. They took one look at him and knew he’d fetch a huge sum with his blond hair and good looks. That he turned out to be a vampire had been a bonus, as they’d later discovered, to their delight.

  Pure bad luck. Shit!

  He was so lost in his misery, he didn’t notice at first that his three captors had returned to the dingy room where he was being kept. They didn’t have much to say to him and had in fact hardly looked his way. Though he was starving, he didn’t dare complain. He was eternally grateful their attentions hadn’t turned to him in a sexual way. Earlier, one of them had relieved himself in a pot in the corner, giving Luc a gander at his massive, bumpy tool. It resembled a foot-long pickle of intimidating girth that matched the rest of its disgusting hide. He’d barely hid his revulsion and his fear.

  Metal jingled as one of the ogres removed a set of keys from a hook on the wall. Then he walked to the cage, bent, and unlocked it. “Out.”

  Luc swallowed hard and started to crawl out, gritting his teeth at the soreness in his limbs. This was it. Somewhere between here and the slave market would be his best opportunity to get away. He’d keep his head down and bide his time.

  Once he was out of the cage, he stood on rubbery legs and kept his eyes on the dirt. Apparently the submissive stance satisfied them, because he was immediately dismissed as unimportant.

  “What time is the auction?”

  “Midday. Half an hour.”

  The third grunted. It was just another day at the market. Sell the meat and move on to capture more. Sons of bitches.

  One looped a rope around his neck, then tightened the slipknot. Giving it a firm yank, he led Luc from the gods-forsaken room as anyone else might a cow or horse. He supposed he was no different to them than livestock. It didn’t matter to them one iota that he was being dragged naked through the streets. Even more humiliating were the stares he received from the locals. He was a curiosity, nothing more than an interesting species of animal, and none made a move to help him.

  He’d have to help himself.

  Casting covert glances from under the fall of his bangs, he tried to assess his location. Unfortunately, none of his surroundings appeared familiar. This was not the nice, bustling marketplace he and Kass had visited. No, this place was an armpit.

  It was a hellhole, the gutters flowing with raw sewage and rotten food. Unwashed beings of all species were dressed in dirty rags, some begging or selling themselves on corners. Though why anybody would be desperate enough to fuck one of them was lost on him.

  As he trailed the three monsters, one still holding fast to his lead, he began to despair. Then the one tugging his rope stopped so fast, he almost ran into the bastard’s back. He peered between two of the ogres to find they’d been confronted by guardsmen. Apparently they were being questioned about where they were going with their captive, and where they’d acquired him.

  “Fuck off,” one of the ogres grunted, and tried to push past them.

  Violence erupted. Fists began swinging, swords were drawn—and his rope was dropped.

  Luc ran like a fucking deer.

  A bellow sounded from behind him, but he kept going. He had no clue whether the guards belonged to the Valkyries or worked for some other boss, perhaps one he didn’t want to get involved with. Once he lost the ogres and got his bearings, he could do a bit of recon and find out.

  That was the way his brilliant plan should have worked. Luc ducked down a side street that was all but deserted, aware of heavy footfalls behind him, gaining fast. A quick glance confirmed his fear. The ogre who’d dropped the rope wasn’t taking his escape very well. Worse, he was so big, one of his strides equaled three of just about anything else on two legs.

  And then Luc stumbled. The monster was on him in an instant, and he learned something else about ogres: once pissed off, they lost all reason.

  This one was beyond enraged. All that mattered was that his captive had escaped, and the chase had sent him over the edge. A huge hand grabbed the rope at the base of his neck, where the slipknot had been tightened, yanked Luc completely off his feet, and held him aloft.

  The rope bit into his neck painfully, cutting off his air. He could only hang there, fingernails scratching desperately at the noose, to no avail. Just as his brain started to buzz
, the ogre gave a mighty heave and slammed him into the ground.

  Agony blasted through him as his spine jarred and the back of his head hit the dirt. His vision grayed, and he saw the blurred form of the monster crouching over him, fist drawn back and then rocketed forward.

  The blow caught him in the sternum, sending shocks through every limb. The pain was indescribable. He couldn’t breathe. This fucker was going to kill him on some dirty street, and Kass would never know what had become of him. But he couldn’t move as the massive fist drew back again.

  The blow never fell. A large shadow loomed over both of them, blocking out what little sun dared to light this hellish corner of the town. Luc heard a roar from the newcomer and caught a flurry of great wings made of long, gorgeous black feathers. Then the ogre was gone and there was a terrible screech, followed by a ripping sound that ended the cry with dreadful finality.

  Turning his head, he saw the winged creature release the dead ogre and spit on the carcass in disgust. Then he stood and turned to face Luc. He was a stunning demon with long black hair, shot with silver.

  Legion. He couldn’t speak.

  “Easy, vampire,” the demon said softly, gathering Luc into his arms. “You’re going to be all right.”

  Somehow, he believed it was true. He hung on to that as the demon teleported them both, and pain racked his body. Legion held him as firmly as possible, but there was no way it wouldn’t hurt. He wished he could pass out, but that wasn’t in the cards.

  How long they traveled, he wasn’t sure. He wouldn’t risk looking and getting sick. It seemed forever, but it might have been minutes later, that all motion stopped. He blinked, but his vision was still blurry.

  “Where…?” His throat hurt like the devil.

  “My humble abode,” the demon said dryly. “Don’t try to talk—you’ll make it worse. You already have some terrible bruises forming around your neck and on your chest.”

  Standing, Legion swung Luc against his chest and carried him from what looked to be a living room and down a short corridor into a bedroom. It wasn’t very big and was modestly furnished. He supposed it was a guest room. Inside, he laid Luc carefully on the bed, pulled back the covers on the other side, and helped him in.

  “Let’s get this wretched thing off you.” His expression tight with anger, he removed the rope from Luc’s neck and held it up, gripping it tight in one fist. The rope smoldered, burst into flame, and disintegrated. “There.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re very welcome, but didn’t I tell you not to talk? Do yourself a favor and listen to me.” He stood, as though preparing to leave.

  “Wait. Please,” Luc said hoarsely. “I’m starving.”

  “Shit. What in Hades is wrong with me?” Legion sat carefully on the edge of the bed, tucking his wings behind him. Next he rolled up a sleeve to expose his wrist. “I suck as a nursemaid, but I’ll try to do better. Eat.”

  With that, he offered his wrist, and while Luc would rather engage in a more pleasurable feeding with the demon, this was all he could manage. And he was grateful. Ravenous, he sank his fangs into the proffered wrist and groaned as the delicious blood hit his stomach, spreading to his cells. He could feel them perking back to life. Legion’s life fluid filled him, beginning to heal him.

  When his draws finally slowed and he quit, replete, Legion withdrew his wrist and pushed Luc onto the pillows. “Sleep. And when you awaken, you can tell me what in blazes happened to you, and how you nearly ended up as a pot of ogre stew.”

  Surely the demon wasn’t serious? But he didn’t have the strength to ask. He fell asleep to the strangely comforting sound of the demon humming a tune while stroking his hair.

  And when he went under, it was a deep, healing sleep.

  “Mistr—Kassandra?”

  Kass looked up from fixing the dent in her armor and gave Taryn a tired smile. He had trouble saying her name, out of habit, but he’d get over it quickly.

  He crossed the workroom rapidly, urgency in his step, and she rose to meet him. “What is it?” she asked, anxiously.

  “We almost had him this afternoon,” he told her breathlessly.

  “Luc?”

  “Yes.”

  She grabbed the lapels of his coat. “Where? What do you mean ‘almost’?”

  “Down in the Boiler area. He was being led by three ogres, probably to sell him at the slave market that took place today.” He paused, catching his breath. “We stopped the ugly bastards to question them about their captive. I didn’t know who it was at first because he was standing behind them. When I did get a glimpse, the captive was filthy, his blond hair almost brown with dirt.”

  “Well, what happened?” she demanded impatiently. “Why isn’t he with you?”

  “All hell broke loose. By the time I realized it was Luc, he took advantage of the chaos and ran, an ogre right after him. He never even saw me, or if he did, he didn’t recognize me dressed in a guard’s uniform. Anyway, I gave pursuit, but I lost them. I later found the ogre dead, his throat ripped out.”

  She lowered herself to her stool, shaking her head. “Luc couldn’t have done that. Someone must have intervened, taking him with him. I can’t believe this.”

  “Look on the positive side. Anyone formidable enough to slash an ogre to ribbons will protect Luc well. And I don’t think he’ll hurt your vampire, because he went to great pains to save him. Maybe he’ll even bring Luc back.”

  “I hope you’re right.” She couldn’t count on it, though. Her vampire was quite a prize to be had. “Keep searching.”

  He nodded. “We won’t stop until he’s found. Serena has even postponed the party because she wants to wait until you and your vampire can attend.”

  Now that was a shock. “You’re kidding.”

  “No. Hard as that is to believe.”

  Wow. Her sister had an unexpected attack of decency? Or had she just not wanted her party spoiled by drama? Kass would bet the latter.

  “Thanks for the update. Carry on, soldier,” she said, halfheartedly teasing him.

  Giving her a kiss on the cheek, he left. As she stared at the door he’d disappeared through, it came to her that the times were changing. She just hoped with all her soul Luc was found, so they could enjoy what time she had left.

  Luc awoke and stretched, unsure at first where he was.

  Then the events of the past few days returned. Being captured. Then escaping, only to be caught and then rescued. By Legion.

  He blinked, studying the guest room. It was then he noticed the walls were rock. The demon’s home was fashioned from a cave. Sitting up, he noted the sparse furnishings, the rug on the floor. The covers on the bed. They were good quality, but nothing fancy—just what the demon required to provide comfort to himself and others, and little else. Luc could appreciate that.

  Gingerly, he moved to the edge of the bed, finding his ribs and throat still sore. His head ached some, but the rest seemed okay. Considering he’d almost been pulverized, he was doing pretty well. With that in mind, he tried standing. When that went okay, he made his way into the nearby bathroom to take care of business.

  After he was done, the shower beckoned. Three or four days without, and yeah, he was ripe. He ran the water, getting it hot, and jumped in, letting the spray warm and ease his muscles. “Oh fuck yes.”

  “Is that an invitation?”

  He jumped and glared at Legion, who’d parted the curtain and stuck his head inside, grinning. “Crap, you scared me. Go away. I’m enjoying myself here.”

  “That would be a problem because I’m doing the same right here. And it is my house.”

  The demon stepped in, naked and totally unrepentant. The gorgeous creature was the epitome of why the words “demon” and “sin” went together so well.

  Deciding to ignore him, Luc wet his hair and began soaping it. Next he rinsed, but before he could start lathering his body, the container of body wash was snatched from his hand. “Hey, I was using that,�
� he complained.

  “I’ll do it.”

  That purr, and the knowing look the demon gave him from under his black lashes made him shiver. His companion squirted some of the liquid into his palm and began to smooth it all over Luc’s body—shoulders, chest, abdomen, legs. Then he came back to the parts he’d skipped.

  Luc hissed as the demon soaped his cock and balls, taking great care with them. They, in turn, appreciated the attention very much, and his dick began to rise.

  “You’re beautiful, vampire,” Legion murmured, those hands working magic.

  “Thanks. You’re no slouch yourself.”

  The demon chuckled. “Spread your legs some.”

  He did, and got thoroughly soaped and rinsed. By the time Legion poured more soap into his palm and brought their cocks together, he was burning, hard as a diamond. Backing him into the wall, Legion used the soapy hand to grasp their rods and pump.

  “Fuck! Gods, yes.”

  “Been too long?”

  “Days,” he admitted, bucking into the touch.

  “I’ll take care of you.”

  “Please.”

  Their hardness slid together, heightening the pleasure with every stroke. Legion’s fist worked them, so slick and good. Naughty. It wasn’t long before the pressure increased to an unbearable level.

  “Gonna come,” he warned.

  “Paint me, pretty boy. Drink from me.”

  Luc’s release exploded, and he shot at the same time as the demon, creamy ropes decorating their stomachs. As they continued to pump, he leaned forward and bit down on the demon’s neck. Hard. Another detonation rocked them both and wrung a few more ribbons out of them.

  Sated, they broke apart, finished rinsing, and stepped out to dry off. The silence was comfortable, and he was surprised. He liked the demon’s company and couldn’t help but recall their session at Kass’s palace.

  Kass. A wave of guilt washed over him.

  “What’s the matter, Luc?”

  “Kass. She’s probably frantic by now, thinking I’m dead.”