“Impertinent little elf,” Dante growled. “It’s always a chore dealing with you. You never listen.”
That was a humongous lie, and they both knew it. But they enjoyed playing this game, as proven by the shiver that went through Eli’s slender frame. In the end, when they came together, their location truly mattered very little. Dante had actually started to grow accustomed to the witnesses, although his jealousy still reared its ugly head from time to time.
But the thing that truly made him reluctant to step through these doors was not possessiveness, but concern. Dante couldn’t help but fear that one of these days, they’d make another mistake and Eli would pay for it. So far, it hadn’t happened. The priests had kept their word and kept the elf safe. But Dante’s need to protect Eli increased with every day that passed, and he always wondered what if.
As he started to pepper Eli’s face with kisses, Eli somehow managed to breathe out, “How are your brothers? Have you managed to speak to them today?”
Dante froze in the act of licking Eli’s collarbone. “You cannot be serious. We’re trying to have sex here, and you’re asking me about my brothers? Believe me, right now, I couldn’t focus on them if I tried.”
Eli grinned at him, his gold eyes shining like the sun. Dante could lose himself in the heat burning in those orbs, melt in Eli’s hot passion. He might always take control of their lovemaking, but in their relationship, Eli had the upper hand. Whether the elf knew it or not, he held the keys to Dante’s heart. Dante would have said that at this point, Eli was as important to him as his life or his breath, but he knew better now. He no longer had either of those things, but his bond with Eli had endured.
“I love it when you look at me like that,” Eli purred, wrapping his arms around Dante’s neck, “like I’m precious to you.”
“That’s because you are precious to me,” Dante murmured.
Eli already knew that, but Dante still liked to say it, over and over again. No matter how much Eli might try to hide or downplay it, the elf still very much missed Manturanael. Being exiled by his own father hurt him deeply, and he felt the absence of everything that was familiar and dear to him very acutely. Dante couldn’t replace what Eli had lost, and he had no intentions to try. He respected Eli too much for such a thing. He did, however, plan to show Eli so much love that the elf would never lack for anything.
There were no words after that, just sweet, stolen kisses. Dante covered Eli’s mouth with his own, allowing his passion to speak for him. Eli’s taste overpowered Dante’s senses, making him drunk with lust. He didn’t even know what to touch first, craving each and every part of Eli’s body.
As he feasted on Eli’s mouth, he swept his hands over the elf’s flanks, testing and exploring, enjoying the silky texture of Eli’s skin. Mother Earth, he could never get enough of Eli, and he didn’t even want to. Every time they came together, it was just as special, just as perfect as their previous lovemaking sessions, or, impossibly enough, perhaps even more. Dante was simply hypnotized by it, by the loveliness of his mate and the profound beauty he controlled.
He only broke the kiss because, even in this form, he couldn’t be everywhere at once, and he needed his mouth for other purposes. As he engulfed a pink nipple in his mouth, Eli’s cries echoed against the walls of the temple, his moans and whimpers assaulting Dante’s already-frayed control.
One would have thought that a man continuing on in an existence beyond the flesh wouldn’t have such problems. By rights, Dante shouldn’t be responding to Eli quite to this extent. But when they were together, no rules applied. Dante supposed he should have guessed that having sex with Eli would provide him with the chance to return to his mate’s side. One thing was certain in all of this. Whenever they made love, Dante felt more alive and real than he’d been even before his death.
Around them, Dante heard the chanting and occasional discreet whisper coming from the priests. As their attempts to bring Dante back intensified, the high priest had started to bring more and more people, mostly for safety purposes. Dante had grown very adept in ignoring them, though, and Eli didn’t seem to mind either. As always, the elf focused solely on Dante, and Dante liked it that way.
Fortunately, Gideon and Valerian didn’t participate in these little sessions. Dante could handle his father being here without feeling too awkward, but he didn’t like the thought of having his siblings witness Eli’s charms.
Right then and there, though, no one mattered but the two of them. The priests were irrelevant beyond the fact that they were doing their job. Dante’s father had, as always, disappeared from sight, and his siblings were not here to frustrate Dante with their mysterious statements, sarcastic comments, and little digs. All distractions aside, Dante had every intention to lavish the full extent of his attention upon the elf.
Eli’s nipples were beautifully sensitive, something which Dante had learned well in his time at Eli’s side. As such, he took advantage of this knowledge and suckled at the tiny nubs, all the while congratulating himself for his idea of disrobing before climbing onto the platform. He’d have much preferred a bed for this, since it couldn’t possibly be comfortable for Eli, but Eli actually seemed to like the slight discomfort that came with fucking on the slab. And Eli was very vocal when he liked something, his moans sweeping over Dante like a physical caress.
Dante clung to his hard-earned control and resisted Eli’s lure for as long as he could. He continued to torment one of the elf’s nipples with his mouth, working the other one with his fingers. Every fiber in his being strained to take Eli, to bury himself inside Eli’s welcoming warmth, but he held back. He didn’t even grind against Eli’s nude body, in spite of feeling Eli’s shaft leaking pre-cum all over his belly. If he let go, he’d be unable to come back, and he wanted the buildup. He craved it, and Eli deserved it. In this game, in this seduction, both of them found sweet oblivion. Here, their problems ceased to exist, and only the quest for pleasure remained. Dante loved every second of it and had always enjoyed this type of play, even with previous lovers. But with Eli, it went beyond anything he’d ever experienced before. The pleasure he found in each carnal act multiplied simply because of Eli’s reaction to it all.
He lingered for a good couple of minutes on Eli’s nipples, and then released the nubs of flesh. As he kissed down Eli’s chest, the elf’s moans intensified, his anticipation almost palpable. Eli’s cock swung around like a beacon, practically begging for attention. But it was not the right moment, not just yet. Dante wanted to give Eli more, to bring his mate to that edge where the sense of reality started to blur, to see Eli’s gaze becoming hazed as his lover fully lost himself in the moment. Under normal circumstances, he’d have had many tricks on how to achieve that, some of them involving utensils that could bring both great pleasure and great pain. But Eli was a stranger to such experiences, and when they did explore it, Dante wanted it to be in private, with both of them in a normal condition. After all, Dante might have made good progress in the past weeks, but wielding a whip on his mate’s flesh took skill, and he didn’t want to risk erring. He still couldn’t use his telekinetic abilities, and he missed them more than ever. He’d have very much like to see his mate bound by mental shackles Dante himself summoned.
For the moment, he chose more discreet methods, which could be just as satisfying if used correctly. With a chuckle, he bypassed his mate’s dick, making Eli release a choked sound of distress. “Dante, please,” the elf gasped out, fidgeting and starting to reach for him.
“Don’t,” Dante commanded. “I will take my pleasure with you as I see fit, and you will not contradict me. Is that clear?”
Eli whimpered, but nodded. “Yes, Dante.”
In the past, Dante had asked his previous submissives to call him Master, or Sir, but he didn’t do so with Eli. He didn’t feel the need to emphasize the difference between them where their lovemaking dynamics was concerned. It might have been because Eli surrendered to him so naturally, without asking any qu
estion, or maybe due to Eli’s absolute openness toward him. Eli had given Dante everything in more than a sexual way, and the relationship between them didn’t require labels.
When Eli stilled on the platform, clutching the stone edges to hold himself in check, Dante gave the elf a small smile to point out he was pleased. As Eli looked into his eyes, the tension vanished from the elf’s elegant features, replaced by an expression of peace. Oh, the sexual tension was still very much present, as eloquently proven by the rigid dick stubbornly attempting to draw Dante’s attention. But Eli seemed to find strength and determination in Dante, as if merely looking at Dante gave him a resolve beyond his own power.
Sometimes, Dante wondered what Eli saw in him. Yes, he had his own personal accomplishments, and he might have been nicer than other bloodkin. He wasn’t modest enough to forego his natural handsomeness, intelligence, or his skill in the arts of passion. But he was also too realistic not to understand that Eli might have been much happier with an elf who didn’t have such a complicated existence. Of course, by the time Eli and Dante had met, Eli had already chosen to go against elven law to assist his old friend Kier, a feat of loyalty which both angered Dante and made him proud. A small part of him remained jealous of Kier Darksun, even if he was well aware that the love story between the two elves had ended a long time ago. But still, in his darker moments, Dante did ask himself if Eli’s life wouldn’t have been better or easier with one of his own kind.
And then, Eli gave him one of those looks, and Dante’s mind crumbled on itself. He knew that at this point, he would not be able to let Eli go. Bloodkin loved obsessively, and in that regard, he was no different from others of his kind. He honestly didn’t know what he’d do if the possibility of a better future appeared for Eli, somewhere far from him, but his selfish side made him wish it would never happen.
Pushing away all such thoughts, Dante started kissing down Eli’s legs, tracing the elf’s thighs with his tongue, going all the way down to Eli’s feet. Eli continued to moan and gasp, but he didn’t attempt to coax Dante into anything, letting Dante set the pace. Dante took a little time mapping his mate’s body with his tongue, then decided to reward Eli for his obedience. Without giving his mate one word of warning, he crawled back up over Eli’s body and took Eli’s dick in his mouth.
Dante loved dick. Other bloodkin who called themselves dominants didn’t appreciate the way they could make a submissive squirm by applying just the right amount of pressure at the right time, by alternating nips and licks with harder sucks. Blow jobs were the perfect way to control a lover’s body, and Dante knew every trick there was in that regard. He shamelessly used them all on Eli, loving his mate’s reactions to it all. Sometimes, he bobbed his head up and down his lover’s cock, giving Eli the friction and heat he so desperately needed. When he detected Eli might be approaching climax, he stopped and squeezed Eli’s balls, holding it back, fanning the flames of Eli’s desire without quenching the heat.
At one point, Eli’s remarkable control broke, and he dissolved into pleading once more, “Oh, yes,” he gasped. “Suck me. Fuck me. Take it. Oh, please, Dante.”
Each word was punctuated by a gasp. Dante was tempted to give Eli a little punishment for actually believing he was in any way in command of this, but the sound of Eli’s voice was too beautiful and changed his mind. Yes, no matter how much he might have tried to hide it, he had no defenses against Eli. But who could blame him?
He drew out the torture a while longer, just because Eli needed him to stop. Finally, when he decided Eli had truly had enough, he reached behind his mate and thrust two fingers inside Eli’s channel. One significant advantage of Dante’s current form was that, even when they had rougher sex, Eli couldn’t truly get hurt. Therefore, more often than not, they no longer bothered with lubricant. Eli had, in fact, explicitly asked Dante to abandon it. The elf craved the burn and the bite of pain that sex with Dante should have provided. Dante couldn’t give him that, not just yet, but he wasn’t adverse to using current circumstances to his advantage.
Eli was, as always, very appreciative of his efforts. With a cry, he exploded, sending hot spunk down Dante’s throat. This part of giving a blow job was always a little strange for Dante, at least now. During the actual intercourse, he didn’t really notice, but the taste of the precum wasn’t as potent as it should have been. Oh, Dante enjoyed it, and could, oddly, swallow Eli’s cum. He had no idea where it went since he didn’t have a physical body that could process it. Still, it remained clear to him that there was something missing. Even if his soul allowed him to touch Eli’s body, they were still, in a way, kept apart.
But Dante didn’t allow it to frustrate him. Instead, he took advantage of the fact that his mate was floating on the waves of climax. Releasing Eli’s dick from his mouth, he spread the elf’s legs and lifted them on his shoulders. In one single thrust, he slid home. Eli’s velvet heat enveloped him in a tight fist, and in spite of all of his control, Dante couldn’t help but release a groan. “Oh, baby…”
“Yes,” Eli moaned, his dick already responding to Dante’s penetration. “Just like that. Fuck me.”
Dante didn’t say anything else, but he didn’t have to. He allowed his body to speak for him, to show Eli how much he was wanted and loved. It was easy, so very easy to forget himself when he fucked Eli, but Dante held onto his composure furiously. He needed this to last, needed to hold onto Eli forever. When he was with his mate, the world, everything that conspired to separate them, simply melted in the fire between them. Eli’s eyes had begun to gain that look Dante had anticipated. Yes, this was what he had craved. There was nothing that could compare with it, not in this world and likely not in any other.
Over and over, he thrust in and out of Eli. His mate moved with him, still clinging to the sides of the platform, although it seemed hard for him now. Dante nodded, giving him permission to let go. Eli instantly reached for him, clutching his shoulders, digging his fingernails into Dante’s shoulders.
Dante was starting to feel a little light-headed. He sensed his orgasm closing in quickly, but there was also that distinctive feeling of the power waiting for the right moment to act. Eli must have experienced the same thing, as for a few moments, his eyes gained a little clarity and he smiled.
There was hope in that gaze, and love, so much love. Coupled with the physical pleasure, the intensity of it pushed Dante into orgasm, and he came, sending his seed deep within Eli’s body.
In spite of his ghostly form, he could ejaculate, although his sperm always vanished afterward. But for as long as he could, he wanted to brand Eli as his, to bind him and mark his mate with his spunk. A primal impulse, but one Dante couldn’t deny.
But as Eli’s ass tightened around him, the feeling of lightheadedness increased. Dante recognized the feeling now, and although it bothered him to be separated from his mate in such a special moment, he opened himself to it, accepting the power flowing over him. His form disengaged from Eli’s, and Dante saw Eli reach for him for a brief moment before the elf relaxed on the platform and closed his eyes. With Eli’s focus and determination came a strengthening of the odd magic ushering Dante toward the second platform.
It went far more smoothly than the first time, but then, Dante had expected that. They’d practiced more than once and stopped the process only when it became apparent that it was straining Eli far too much. Today, though, Dante had a feeling he’d never experienced before, one of certainty. The flow of power was natural, as if he floated on the waters of a calm river, one that caressed him and soothed his senses. Unfortunately, the gentleness couldn’t last for long, and out of the blue, Dante was thrust back into his stiff, cold body. It seemed as if the warm river had, for some reason, plunged him into an icy waterfall. Still, Dante didn’t fight it, accepting the discomfort as natural. He’d managed to reach his physical form a few times before and had learned that these sensations were completely normal. While his body had been preserved and had resisted putrefaction, the
rigidity of death could not be avoided. Only when his soul inhabited this form could his heart start pumping blood again and awaken his muscles.
For a few moments, Dante waited for the mental alarm that always told him something had gone wrong. He waited for the priests to appear in their usual efforts to keep Eli safe. None of that happened. Instead, Dante felt the strange force settle within him. In his heart, he sensed the warmth of Mother Earth. He could actually hear her now, although it wasn’t in a language he understood. He did grasp what she meant though. He realized that her power had transmuted Eli’s love for him into a second chance. Together, they had earned Dante’s right to live again. And just like that, Dante’s vision cleared. For the first time in months, he took a real breath.
Instantly, he choked. There was very little air in the crystal casket, and Dante started to grow a little dizzy again, for a whole different reason. With a great deal of effort, he moved his hand. At once, the priests appeared and removed the lid from the casket. As he looked at them, Dante was struck by a second sensation. Thirst. Mother Earth, he was so thirsty. Moaning, he tried to express his need, but the burning desire for life essence couldn’t even let him speak.
Fortunately, his need had been anticipated. A bleeding wrist appeared in his line of sight. Dante glanced up and saw his father smiling down at him. “Drink your fill, son. Take your life back from me.”
Those words meant more than Dante could process then. A part of him wanted to reply, but his thoughts were scrambled, and the scent of blood awoke a beast inside him. Gripping his father’s hand, he buried his fangs in the tender flesh and simply drank.
Animalistic satisfaction exploded over him. The first few gulps barely even registered, but slowly, Dante started to process the delicious taste of his father’s essence. It was, naturally, very powerful, and that strength was going to Dante’s head. Memories flashed through his mind, images of people both foreign and familiar. But he couldn’t focus on either of them, too intent on the taste of the liquid flowing into his mouth. The moment held no eroticism, but as Aran’s blood provided what Dante’s body lacked, Dante nevertheless found his dick hardening.
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