“How foolish you are.” Nowaki stated during one of their debates. “It is karma that some die, some suffer, and those that prosper take what they want.”
“Buddha says all life is suffering. Yet, if we have the power to do so, we should help ease suffering,” Arisada countered.
“You will share our hard-won wealth with those who do not deserve it, who grovel in the filth, begging rather than working?” Nowaki asked. “This is the way of weakness.”
“It is not the fault of the peasantry that recent famine and earthquake have destroyed their homes, their livelihoods. We only grow stronger by our benevolence.”
“Baka. You are a fool, Saito-san. A fool who will bring down this great monastery and all in it with your stupid generosity.” Nowaki spat his derision at his senpai. “I will have nothing more of your weak-willed beliefs. I am a warrior not a priest.” He stormed out. He avoided Arisada save for their military training sessions.
Despite the youth’s hostility, Arisada never believed Nowaki’s avowed selfishness for by their fourth year together he was deeply in love with the boy. He hid his love by meting a harsher discipline on Nowaki than he did to the rest of the Sōhei novices under his charge. Only within the safety of dreams did Arisada dare caress and kiss Nowaki. He believed his love was unrequited.
Until that wondrous and fateful night when the youth seduced him.
Nowaki came to him, not in anger or fear, but in a boiling need. A slight stirring of his thin blanket woke Arisada. Sudden warmth pressed against his shoulder and hip as Nowaki slid naked onto his sleeping mat.
“Senpai, I must speak with you. Please, it is urgent.” A puff of heated breath from Nowaki’s whispered entreaty caressed Arisada’s ear. Nowaki pressed his fingers rudely against Arisada’s lips to still any protest.
“Sumimasen. I aplogize. Be at peace, just listen, Saito-sama.” Nowaki blurted out the intimate honorific in his desperate haste.
Despite the acute awareness of the boy’s warm, smooth skin against his hip, Arisada’s heart slammed in his chest with dread. By rights the boy could choose another mentor, even go to another temple. Nowaki had not yet dedicated himself to Mii-dera, and for the past two years Nowaki’s behavior screamed that he wanted nothing from his sensei.
Arisada scrambled upright, pressing his back against the freezing wall of his cell. His eyes closed against the impending devastation of the next words he would hear. He prayed he could become deaf in that second. He wished he were on another plane of existence instead of sitting naked on his futon with the boy he loved pressing against him.
Shivering from apprehension, Nowaki knelt on the thin mat. His words tumbled out. “Senpai, Gomen, gomen nasai, yurushite. Please forgive me. I have treated you with nothing but disrespect. I was filled with feelings for you so deep, so powerful, they unmanned me. Yet, shame filled me for revealing the details of my cursed life. Still, I was afraid. Now, I feel your anger, see you turn away. I fear my hatred has destroyed your love. When I couple with others, I am not fulfilled. My member gets hard every time I think of you. I want to … I need to share my body with you. Daisuki senpai, I love you. Please, senpai, say you have even a tiny amount of affection for me.”
Arisada’s heart thundered so hard he thought his ribs might crack. He desperately wanted to know he heard what he longed for most. But fear stopped him. He inhaled a single, deep breath, forcing calm. “You don’t know what you’re saying, Nowaki-kun. You are still so young. Your feelings are misplaced youthful lust.” Arisada trembled, cold sweat limned his body. His stomach knotted with unaccustomed fear.
“I am coming up to seventeen winters, a man by every standard. And I do know what I’m asking of you,” Nowaki cried as he straddled Arisada’s exposed loins and wrapped his arms around his neck. The wet head of his cock pressed into Arisada’s clenched stomach, his balls nudged warm and soft against Arisada’s throbbing prick. Before another protest escaped Arisada’s mouth, Nowaki slaved their lips together with such force their teeth clashed.
At the touch of Nowaki’s mouth, long-suppressed arousal obliterated Arisada’s pretense of resistance. He drowned in the promise of the youth’s emotions, embracing them all—devotion, tenderness and the incandescence of Nowaki’s passion. Arisada’s heart soared with incalculable bliss.
Their arms enveloped each other in an uncertain, careful embrace. Their lips pressed, soft, exploring, asking for acceptance. Arisada yielded first, opening his mouth to welcome the deep intimacy of Nowaki’s tongue.
Arisada pulled away from the promises in Nowaki’s mouth. He groaned at the sheer need in his beloved’s face. Those seagreen eyes flaring with heat, that creamy-dark skin sweat-flushed, that bottom lip sucked in under perfect white teeth.
“Oh, koibito,” he breathed and buried his head in the crook of that tender neck, sucked a line under Nowaki’s jaw. Tears slipped down Arisada’s face and over the tender bump of Nowaki’s collarbone. He inhaled the heady musk of the sex. The desire boiling off Nowaki’s skin melted the last of Arisada’s resolve. He surrendered to the shackles of the boy’s need.
“Let me taste you,” Arisada murmured, “Just taste you.” He thought he heard only love in the boy’s whispered, “Hai, hai, senpai, dozo.”
.
Fifteen
The splash of a koi slapping the surface of the pond snapped Arisada out of his reverie and back into Seattle’s fog-filled night.
“My adoration of Nowaki blinded me to his true nature.—until he became uragirimono, a traitor. Because of his single shameful act, the Emperor’s army overran my temple, burned it. History records no Mii-dera Sōhei survived that day. Most died in battle, the rest committed seppuku. Except me. I was cheated of an honorable death and condemned to become a demon, kyūketsuki.” His eyes glittered with a film of red.
“But that means you were only twenty-five when you died.” Tatsu blurted.
“Hai, but I didn’t exactly die, did I? Karma dictated another path for me. Perhaps when I awoke as a monster, I should have allowed the sun to take my life. But I chose to live, praying for my own redemption while I searched for Nowaki. I killed his seducer, Hayato, but not before he confessed he had taken Nowaki’s head the same day Mii-dera fell.”
An irrational ache to wrap his arms around the suffering vampire gripped Tatsu. How could anyone bear so much sorrow for such a long time? He hid his sympathy behind a question.
“Do you still love him?” Tatsu whispered the question into the night. Apprehension turned his mouth dust-dry. Why did he want to know?
The vampire gazed at the pond. “Part of me will always love him. There were times I felt a purity, a joy in him that could not have come from someone evil. He was an innocent once.”
“You are telling me I have this person, this Koji Nowaki, inside me that evokes these feelings I have for you?”
“So, you admit you have feelings?” The corners of Arisada’s mouth turned up, not quite a smile.
“Nani mo! None! You know what I mean.” But the damn vampire was right. No denying the wild, throbbing that pounded through his balls and swelled his prick every time he thought of Arisada.
“There is no one inside you, Tatsu,” Arisada used Tatsu’s first name without permission. “You are Shinto, you believe in reincarnation, neh?”
Tatsu’s heart quickened at the intimate address. He shrugged to disguise his pleasure. “I’m not sure I accept that aspect of it.”
“Imagine the spirit is a flame that is passed from the dying candle to the wick of a fresh one. The flame is the continuing essence of the person’s soul. The candle is a new entity with its own properties and makeup. It is subject to a different time and place. The flame on top of the candle is there to learn what was missed in a previous lifetime.”
“I’m not a fucking candle. And I sure as hell have enough shit to deal with in this life without worrying about a previous one.”
The vampire smiled with a flash of brilliant white teeth, No hint of fangs
. “No you certainly are not a fucking candle. You are the beautiful soul I feared I’d never see again.”
“I can’t be the only one who ever looked like this Nowaki.” Tatsu stuttered, stunned by the beauty of that smile.
“I have met hundreds of bishounen who could pass for Nowaki’s twin but none had his soul. Your physical resemblance is superficial, although you are truly an exquisite boy. The soul within you is who I love. His tamashii has returned in you, perhaps for the redemption of us both? Perhaps to accept my love?”
“Who I fall in love with will be my choice. I am not a mindless vessel for another.”
“Wakatta, you determine your own path. But you cannot deny me the love I bear for you.” Arisada’s fingers ached to caress Tatsu’s cheek. He moved a step back. Distance meant safety. And loss.
“I can never love something like you.” Tatsu covered his lie with a show of anger. It failed. Caught in the raw need vibrating between them, he shifted his weight, leaned in until he was chest-to-chest with the vampire.
Arisada inhaled Tatsu’s unique scent, now pungent with the undeniable smell of an aroused man. He dropped his gaze to the rounding beneath the slick leather of Tatsu’s pants. Stared for a long, deliberate moment as Tatsu’s cock stirred then began to hardened.
“, sō desu ka? You say you feel no desire for me, yet your body tells me different, Tatsu-kun.”
“Whatever twisted ideas you have, forget them. And don’t call me kun. I am not a child.”
“You prefer I call you koibito? Beloved?” Arisada drew the pad of his thumb slowly over Tatsu’s lips leaving a trace of lavender scent.
The vampire’s touch scalded Tatsu’s skin. Want–wonderful yet terrifying—shivered up from the center of his vitals.
“If I am your so-called beloved, why don’t you kiss me?” The challenge, spilling unchecked from Tatsu’s lips, surprised them both.
Arisada’s resolve crumpled. He cupped the nape of Tatsu’s neck and tangled his other hand up into tousled chocolate-brown hair. Drew them together. His tongue teased over the mouth, asking for entrance. Those pretty lips parted, and Arisada plunged into his beloved’s delicious cavern.
The kiss should have been a short experiment to prove he felt nothing for Arisada. A kaleidoscope of sensation pin wheeled over Tatsu. What the fuck was he doing? His tongue answered by chasing even deeper into that fanged cavern. His want vibrated deep in their mouths.
That sweet, yielding moan swept through Arisada’s senses, obliterating all caution. Still holding him within the sweetness of that kiss, he forced Tatsu backward until he hit the tree with a brain-rattling thud. His mouth ground against Tatsu’s in savage dominance. With harsh cry, he pulled back, grabbed Tatsu’s jacket by the lapels, and dragged it down over the boy’s elbows, trapping his arms.
Tatsu twisted away from that kiss. His head hit the tree trunk. “What the fuck?” He thrashed, jerking his arms futilely against the unyielding leather. Even as he struggled to free himself, the sense of helplessness, of being bound, fired a thrill deep into his ass. The desire to submit to this creature’s savage sexuality hardened him so fast it hurt.
“You are so beautiful.” Arisada murmured, trailing butterfly kisses over the flaming cheeks, on each edge of that pretty mouth, licked under Tatsu’s earlobe down to the sweet curve of the jugular.
“Just this one time, I will possess you.” He struck.
Fangs shredded the front of Tatsu’s combat shirt as if it were fine silk. Thousands of polyceramic rings rained onto the grass. Cold air bit his nipples. Dumbfounded, he looked down at the so-called indestructible fabric hanging in tatters, leaving only the straps of his harness. The leather cut into his pecs defining them with cruel intent.
A mewl escaped him. He didn’t know if it meant surrender or protest. He just knew he was desperate to feel Arisada’s flesh pressed against him, chest-to-chest, loins against loins, bare cock rubbing bare cock. Wanted oh-so-much more.
A demon of primitive hunger possessed Arisada. Hunger fueled by eons of unrequited need. He had to taste Tatsu’s flesh. Nothing would stop him, not the fast-approaching dawn. Not the immorality of his assault. Not Tatsu’s hate that would come later.
Arisada mouthed over honey-kissed skin. With feverish impatience, his tongue roved over the planes and valleys of each muscle of his chest. Left a wet trace along the edge of a tattoo showing from beneath the harness strap. Tasted salt and man-flesh hot with desire. He blew a cold stream over Tatsu’s deep brown aureoles, the skin puckering around the engorged nipples. The vampire drew one hard button between his teeth. Bit softly. Was rewarded by a shuddering gasp of delight. His fingers played over the other—soft circular rubs, hard flicks, pinching, pulling, tugging the nub erect.
This loving should be slow, tender, an aching exploration of his beloved. But the vampire had no time for that. His true enemy, daylight, already stalked him. Yet, for these precious moments, he would risk death.
“Gomen nasai. Yurushite, koibito.” Arisada begged for forgiveness even as his fingers clawed at Tatsu’s fly. He yanked chaps and pants down. One tug ripped Tatsu’s jock in two. A hiss of delight escaped him when Tatsu’s erection bounced out, a pale arch in the thin light. Arisada’s hands closed around the hot tube, stroked it with hard, possessive tugs. This cock—burning like a molten rod in his hand—so new yet so hauntingly familiar.
He stroked along its length, knowing every contour of its beautiful landscape. Caressed over each sensitive spots, sending ecstasy shuddering through this yearning body.
The knowing touch of Arisada’s hand fired jolts of pure lightning along every nerve to the top of his head. Shudders ripped through him. Pleasure consumed his loins. His thighs trembled, muscles gone weak with a fine trembling. Only his desperate clutch on the tree held him upright.
“Dozo, do it. Suck me.” He jerked forward, presented his rampant cock, demanding and eager.
Arisada dropped to his knees. Tenderly, he gazed at the hollows slanting down from the jut of hips. The sweet dip of tendons into his groin. That curling of hair at the root of his iron-hard member. The tracery of blue veins beneath saffron skin. The perfect helmet glistening with precum.
All these sights and tastes and scents were Arisada’s for this night only. He seared them into his memory.
Quivering with want, Arisada rubbed the heated length of Tatsu’s throbbing prick over his cheek and lips. His thumb rolled over the tender, ripe cockhead. Oh, the silkiness of the skin, the steel beneath it, the heat, the male musky odor.
“Koibito, let me taste you.” The plea of centuries ago.
Astonishment filled Tatsu as the vampire kissed the taut head of his prick with a tender reverence. Hadn’t he wanted this from the moment he stared into those golden eyes? A begging permission slipped from Tatsu.
Arisada licked the shaft from the cockhead to the tight curls at the root. At the salty taste of Tatsu’s skin, a ravenous hunger possessed the vampire. He plunged down, engulfing the slippery weight to its root. He pulled off with a loud suck, flicked his tongue over the piss slit and drew forth a fresh, sticky offering. He teased, plying Tatsu’s rigid length with delicate licks, long slow swirls, tiny touches of his human teeth under the shaft, along to the pulsing vein underneath. His velvet tongue lapped over that glistening purple head, the tip digging into the piss slit brought forth a fresh spurt of briny nectar. Greedily, the vampire sucked up the slick juice. Spit ran from the side of his mouth, mingling in rivulets with cock juices.
He laved all the secret tender places, knowing they were right by the mewls pulled out of Tatsu. Adorable, delightful, loving pleadings. The boy’s thighs bunched, tendons standing in stark relief. A tentative thrust of his hips. Arisada pulled off Tatsu with a loud pop. Tears glittered in the vampire’s eyes. No blood feast could ever compare to the delectable taste of that cock.
“Hai, hai, koibito, that’s it. Fuck my—” His husky words were cut short as he took Tatsu again.
“Oh, fa
kku, what are you…?” Tatsu’s moans slipped from lips gone slack with need. Searing chills drowned him as that warm, wet surrounded his throbbing flesh. He stared down at those lips stretched wide around the girth of his cock. At his steel-hard prick engulfed to the root by a creature that could savage him within seconds.
Nerves screamed with every slide over the pebbly surface of Arisada’s tongue, each scrape of hard teeth. The hard press of the vampire’s ridged palete, the convulsive suction from that demanding throat—all delivering a universe of scalding pleasure.
A delicious pain coiled in his ass, pulsed up his chute. The wicked sensations set his body aflame, shot lightning through his prick, his balls. Fire and ice ripped through every nerve from his toes to the top of his head. Like the helpless swimmer caught in a tsunami, he tumbled over and over, drowning in sensation. Every nerve vibrated sending him in shivering waves to that razor-edged peak.
Tatsu writhed against the construction of the leather sleeves. His helplessness inflamed his body with an alien pleasure. And in his helplessness, a truth burned into him—he was not the prisoner of this vampire’s love. He was its master.
In that rushing firestorm of awareness, he surrendered. Wonder filled him. That it was Arisada’s lips around him meant everything. That Arisada was kyūketsuki meant nothing. His legs quivered, muscles flexed to their utmost. His ass muscles pulsed. His balls crawled tight and hot against his sphincter. That indescribable frost climbed his cock. So close, so close to that sweet, flying release. Just one more swirl of that tongue, one more stroke, one more dragging suck and he’d plunge over.
“Fuck me. Fuck me.”
Those sexy and oh-so-begging cries from his beloved stoked the vampire’s lust into an inferno. He trembled with need at those whimpers tumbling from Tatsu’s mouth. Without releasing his mouth from Tatsu’s pounding cock, Arisada looked up into the boy’s lust-consumed face. Such absolute beauty stunned him—the wild glitter of jade eyes almost hidden by lids weighted with pleasure, the lashes fluttering against flushed honey-colored cheeks. Swollen, kiss-bruised lips slightly open. The white reveal of perfect teeth.
Eternal Samurai Page 21
