Downs, Jana - Ravyn's Heart [Ravyn Warriors 2] (Siren Publishing Allure ManLove)

by Jana Downs

  “Oh? How are you going to do that?” he wondered with a sadistic grin.

  “I’ll be your fool, sir. I’ll suck you ’til you come down my throat. I’ll fuck myself with any toy you choose.” He produced the flesh-colored phallus from beneath the chair. His beautiful golden eyes lowered in submissiveness. “Let me earn your cock, sir.”

  Beautiful. “Show me how much you want it.”

  Allasandro used those beautifully muscled arms to plunge the tip of the phallus into that tight muscled warrior’s backside. He groaned and bit into his bottom lip.

  “Wish this was your cock, sir,” Allasandro gasped.

  “You said you’d earn it. So hush and take it,” Damian replied huskily. Allasandro groaned again and pushed the phallus deeper, fucking himself on the large plastic length.

  “May I…may I suck you, sir?”

  “Suck,” Damian commanded. Allasandro leaned forward, lowering his lashes and lapping the pre-cum off the swollen head. Their eyes met and…

  Damian groaned as he shot his load into the tight circle of his fist. His eyes shot wide and a gasp opened his mouth and bared his fangs to the ceiling. Bloodlust blinded him, reminding him that he’d yet to feed. He roared. He wanted Allasandro’s blood. Another shot of seed boiled over his fist. The animal inside growled for release. He wanted the Ravyn in his bed.

  * * * *

  “Santiago is an asshole,” Allasandro declared, dropping into a chair beside Salvatore. The monarch looked up from his breakfast with a raised eyebrow. He hadn’t yet dressed, and with his red silk robe on, he looked a little like a younger version of Hugh Hefner in Ally’s opinion.

  “Why do you say that?” he asked, going back to his plate of eggs Benedict and toast. Gods knew the vampires in Alex’s house knew how to keep a man from going hungry. The cook Alex had hired for the Ravyns was awesome, especially when it came to Prince Salvatore’s meals.

  “He just…I don’t know. When Damian was trying to sing, he kept interrupting him and yelling at him for this and that. Nitpicky crap. I mean, it sounded okay to me.” Ally huffed, grabbing a piece of toast off Salvatore’s plate.

  “Santiago knows what Damian’s best is. If he isn’t giving his best, of course Santiago is going to get onto him,” Salvatore offered. He sipped his cup of coffee before wincing and blowing across the still-too-hot liquid. “Aren’t you supposed to be working out with Tony and the others?”

  “Tony had the others do a tactical run around the property. Alex assigned the vampires to watch you and the house while they’re away, but of course Tony didn’t trust a bunch of Earth vamps to look after our favorite Prince. So…yeah. He left me here.” Ally sat back more firmly against his seat and yawned. Salvatore rolled his eyes but didn’t offer comment. Tony was so overprotective.

  “I just don’t see why he was yelling at Damian. I mean, he wasn’t off pitch or anything.” Ally continued his rant against the dictator Santiago.

  “Have you ever heard Damian back in the day? His operas used to make me cry. He wasn’t into partners like Alex. He was about solitude and loneliness. It was a longing that took your breath away,” Salvatore said, standing. “If he’s lost his passion, then it won’t sound the same. It’s not about pitch or accuracy. It’s about feeling.”

  Allasandro blinked. “Huh?”

  Salvatore rolled his eyes. Ally-cat was not known for his depth, but it wasn’t that he couldn’t understand. He just didn’t usually think about things from that perspective. Salvatore often thought it was a ploy by Allasandro to keep from getting close to people. When no one thought he understood, people didn’t try to explain things, and that in turn made Ally exempt from having to interact with people on a serious level.

  Salvatore stood back from the table and crossed to the massive entertainment system that the Ravyns had installed for his use. With a press of a button, he brought up an image of Damian dressed sharply in a black T-shirt that held silver glitter in every thread and black dance pants which hugged his form to perfection. White fog curled around his feet, and soft blue light was the only illumination.

  “This is Damian from Alex’s play Redemption about ten years ago. It was before Damian started dealing with the books instead of the plays. Watch,” Salvatore offered in the way of explanation. He pressed the screen’s play button, and the image started to move. “This song is Con Te Partiro. Damian loved the song so much that he got Alex to incorporate it. It’s one of the only non-original pieces in all of Alex’s plays.”

  When Damian opened his mouth, he knew that this Damian was different from the one he’d seen perform. The fine hairs on Allasandro’s forearms stood to attention and goose bumps ran up his neck. Damian’s eyes sparkled with something extraordinary. A voice that was so pure that angels were probably falling over themselves to listen to it made Ally shudder. What. The. Hell…

  “Quando sono solo sogno all’orizzonte e mancan le parole.” Damian’s beautiful voice resonated within the soul and cast a spell of absolute enchantment over the crowd.

  “When I’m alone, I dream of the horizon and words fail,” Salvatore translated, sounding as dazed as Ally felt.

  “Si, lo so che non ce’e luce in una stanza quando manca il sole. Se non ci sei tu con me.”

  “Yes, I know there is no light in a room where the sun is absent. If you are not with me,” Salvatore echoed.

  Tears streaked down Allasandro’s face as he felt the longing in those beautifully delivered words. He got it. Damian was longing for a lover. Longing for love that was gone from this world. His heart shuddered in equal parts pain and adoration. He was sobbing now, watching Damian walk his lonely path across stage. He wanted, yearned, to go to this man and make his endless sorrow end.

  “Now do you see what’s missing?” Salvatore whispered, his eyes too filled with tears. “That’s the beauty of the Entertainers. They feel more than the rest of us. Show us the depths that feeling can go.”

  “Damian doesn’t…he doesn’t feel like this anymore.” Allasandro hiccupped. “That’s why Santiago is being an ass and why Dageus is worried about him.”

  The Demon Prince stroked his hands down Allasandro’s closely cropped hair. “Yes, my Ravyn. That’s why they worry.”

  “I’ll make him feel again,” Ally swore. “I’ll make him feel so damn much he’ll explode from it.”

  “You can’t make him feel anything, Ally-cat. He isn’t yours to save,” Salvatore whispered. Allasandro’s heart constricted at the thought. He was wrong. He was Damian’s muse now, and he’d be damned if he let Damian fail.

  Chapter Seven

  Damian had decided to dress casual this evening. Since he wasn’t going to actually get any business done, he figured that he might as well. His old performance pants fit like a glove, molding to his tight ass. A loose black T-shirt completed the ensemble.

  “Hey,” Allasandro greeted as he slid through the door. They were in the same studio they’d been in last time. “Sorry I’m late. Had to help Dageus with his outfit. They’re doing dress rehearsal, and he wanted to make sure the new outfit would take Alex throwing him around stage in their fight scene.”

  Damian nodded, his eyes unwavering from Ally’s. “Not a problem.” He couldn’t stop thinking about his fantasy from the night before. His fangs ached from the memory. He really needed to feed.

  He cleared his throat and went back to flicking through the black binder of sheet music that Santiago had dropped off. It was the new section of the performance that was designed for his voice. It was a complicated piece that would display his range nicely if he could capture it. The digital copy of the music was already installed on the music player just waiting to be played. Some vampires could use the energy of their minds to turn on electrical equipment. Alex was an expert at doing those sorts of things long-distance. Damian wasn’t so talented.

  It was then that he noticed that Allasandro was staring at him. “What?” he asked. Was that a blush across Allasandro’s face?

 
; “I watched you. I watched you sing Con Te Partiro.” The words were a whisper. Damian was intrigued. He raised his eyebrows in question. The Ravyn swallowed. “I’ve never heard anything so beautiful.” His voice was full of reverence. It twisted a knife of want into Damian’s gut.

  “I’m guessing you enjoyed it then?” Damian set aside the black binder and took two steps in Ally’s direction. His eyes were glowing with an inhuman light. Allasandro seemed to realize that something had shifted in Damian and took a step back.

  “I was touched,” Allasandro whispered. He touched his hand to his chest over his heart. “You made me feel—”

  “What did I make you feel?” Damian growled, using his inhuman speed to bring him within inches of the man he was stalking.

  “You made me want—” Allasandro’s eyes met his, and he licked his lips as the difference in their height became painfully obvious.

  “What did I make you want?” Damian purred, letting just a hint of his fangs show.

  “You make me yearn—”

  “What do I make you yearn?” Damian’s big hands came to rest on Allasandro’s hips. This man, this Ravyn, made him feel strong, made him feel alive for some damn reason. Allasandro let out a whimper as Damian’s lips hovered a scant few centimeters above his lips.

  “I want you to.” Allasandro’s heavy lidded whisper was not unexpected. Damian obliged him.

  Their lips met in a feather-soft kiss, something meant to seduce as opposed to conquer. Damian’s hands brought their torsos together, and his cock pressed insistently into Allasandro’s hard belly. The answering arousal in Allasandro smashed against Damian’s thigh. They both groaned at the contact.

  “Oh shit,” Ally cried out as Damian nipped his lips, seeking entrance. Their tongues met. Tangled. Ally’s arms crept up Damian’s shoulders, grasping the other man’s hair tightly. Ally lapped at Damian’s mouth, stroking his ultrasensitive fangs with his tongue, nicking it on the sharp tips.

  Damian’s eyes shot wide as the taste of blood permeated his senses. Ally’s blood was delicious. It was ambrosia. Nothing like human blood. More spicy. Intoxicating. Demonic. He pushed his tongue deeper into the Ravyn’s mouth, licking every hidden recess.

  Suddenly a foreign presence pressed against the shield of Damian’s mind, seeking entrance. His eyes flickered open at the intimate touch. It was the Ravyn. The force of the other man’s mind surrounded him even as his touch drove Damian mad. He had a deliciously strong mind. One of the strongest he’d seen.

  “Now, now, boys. None of that.” Santiago’s amused voice cut through the desire they were immersed in like a hot knife. “At least not ’til after you are done practicing,” he added after a moment’s thought.

  The two shot apart like two teenagers caught groping in their parents’ living room. Allasandro touched his fingers to his lips absently and stared down at the floor while Damian tried his damnedest to look defiant as he crossed his arms nonchalantly across his chest.

  “Ever heard of knocking?” Damian quipped. Santiago just laughed, the sound as inhuman as the sound of a wind chime.

  “In my own theater? I think not.” Santiago chuckled some more. He pointed to the chair that Allasandro had occupied the last time he’d been here. “Do sit down, Allasandro.”

  * * * *

  “I want to go out,” Salvatore declared as Allasandro dragged himself through the door. He’d raced from the studio as soon as Santiago had called an end to the rehearsal. He’d been saved from a confrontation with Damian because he’d been forced to join up with the rest of the troupe toward the end to practice with the group.

  “Daylight?” Allasandro asked, relief filling him. That’s what he needed. He needed to remind himself of what he was and who he was. Damian was an odd obsession and nothing that another tight body wouldn’t cure. He touched his lips for the fiftieth time since they’d shared the kiss. It was like he could still feel the ghost of Damian’s touch.

  “Daylight,” Salvatore agreed. Tony looked positively green around the gills. Everyone knew that he hated going to the club. It was too crowded for his tastes, and he was terrified of assassins coming for Salvatore there. Their Prince shot him a look like he was reading his mind. “And you need to calm down. Alex has reassured us time and again that Daylight is the safest place to socialize on Earth other than the theater. The shifter and vampire bouncers have been given express orders to watch out for us while we’re there.” Tony crossed his arms across his chest but said nothing. He knew when he’d lost an argument with the Prince, so he didn’t even bother.

  They arrived within forty-five minutes of Salvatore’s declaration. I’m definitely dressed as Ally-cat tonight. He shot a glance at the mirror behind the bar. He had on skintight jeans that emphasized his muscular ass and a T-shirt that had the green Abercrombie logo splashed across the chest and was practically glow-in-the-dark yellow. He looked like a prowler. He sent his mind out percolating through the crowd, searching for people who fit his stringent criteria. The six honeys over in the corner were very amenable to his less-than-honorable intentions. He wanted to have some fun.

  “Hey, my Prince, I’m heading to the back,” he told Salvatore over the crowd. The Demon Prince was making a beeline to the bar and the pierced bartender who looked slammed from the people crowding its counter.

  “Yeah. Yeah. Fine. I’ll be over here.” Salvatore was paying Ally zero attention, so he made his way to the group of girls.

  “Ladies,” he greeted, letting a slow smile spread across his face. He pushed his mind into theirs and soothed away any awkward fears they may have concerning the strange male entering into their sphere. “How would you like to make my night?”

  The nearest one was a dark-headed beauty with deep purple eye shadow and thick Kohl eyeliner. She was too pretty to have all that stuff caked on, but he had to admit that it looked dramatic enough to be semiattractive. Maybe this was what he needed to stop thinking about Damian. A smile quirked her lips.

  “So long as our guy friends can make your night, too,” she teased with a wink. Three males walked up to the table behind Ally, eyeing his tight ass. He felt their interest in the way their minds raced up to meet his mental inquiry. Interesting. Well, he’d already told himself that he was going to be more open to experimentation.

  He grinned and met her challenge head on. “Absolutely. The more the merrier.”

  * * * *

  “Oh yeah! Take it baby!” The guy to Ally’s left, the blond—Joey maybe?—called out as Allasandro lapped the tequila off Merriam’s pierced stomach. She squealed as he swirled his tongue around the dangly bits that played with the edge of her glittery metallic-looking thong. She’d unbuttoned her pants two shots ago for easier access, and Ally was enjoying it. Her dark hair fanned across the table and drifted off the side.

  “Ally!” she squealed again. The guy on his right with auburn hair—Landen?—leaned forward and set his mouth against Ally’s pulse, his hand snaking underneath the table to caress Allasandro’s crotch. His lips caressed and his teeth nipped.

  “You’re so much fun,” he all but purred. Ally chuckled and pushed his hardening cock into the other man’s hand.

  “I can be more fun if you move that hand a little faster,” Allasandro promised, licking the salt off of the space between his thumb and pointer finger.

  Landen winked. “I’m totally down, baby.”

  “No way, Landen!” One of the other girls cried out, giggling hysterically. So it was Landen? “You’ve gotta share him with the rest of us.”

  “Your turn, Ally,” the last guy said. Now he knew his name was Jonathan. At least he was mostly sure.

  Nine pairs of hands stripped him of his shirt and unbuttoned the top button of his jeans before pushing him to the table in Merriam’s place. Jonathan gripped Ally’s sizeable erection and nipped his stomach.

  “Nice,” the other man purred. Merriam captured his lips in a kiss, and he let his eyes slide shut as her tongue penetrated his mouth. Her
hair ensconced him in a dark halo of honey-smelling wonderfulness. Had to be her shampoo. He’d have to ask her what kind later.

  “Let’s play a game!” Landen demanded, his hands fondling his balls through the denim.

  “Hmmm…what kind of game?” another blond girl asked in a husky cigarette-sweetened voice.

  “Anyone got something to blindfold him with?” Landen asked. Jonathan laughed, and Merriam withdrew her tongue.

  “Look in my purse. I’ve got a scarf in there,” she murmured against his lips. This was looking promising…

  The scarf was quickly produced and wrapped around his eyes, making everything hazy impressions of form and light outside his immediate senses. He put his hands behind his head, stretching the long line of his body out for everyone’s enjoyment. He wondered who he’d go home with tonight. Hmmmm…. Multiple pairs of lips caressed his chest. Maybe he’d go home with a couple of them.

  “Try to figure out whose lips are taking the shots,” Landen commanded.

  “Not fair!” Ally protested mildly as someone began to pour liquor into his navel. “I don’t know everyone’s name.”

  “Fine.” Merriam’s voice was filled with lazy amusement and no small amount of lust. “Then you get to identify whose licking you by their gender.”

  This was really going to be fun.

  * * * *

  Giving him shots of liquor in between body shots was not a part of the original plan. Yet, here he was, downright tipsy, still playing this game. Gods only knew how many rounds they’d played. He was getting good at identifying a luscious feminine touch from the bolder male ones. Of course his accuracy was declining now that he was sliding into uncomfortably lit territory.

  “I think I’m done,” Ally cried out, laughing as the world spun. It took a ton of liquor to get a demon drunk, and he was well on his way.

  “One more!” Merriam cooed, putting a restraining hand on his left wrist. Someone grabbed his other one and more hands “restrained” his legs. As a Ravyn, Ally knew he could get out of it, but the delicious threat of restraint was enough to have him at full mast and gasping.