by Willa Okati
His heart thumped even as his stomach dropped. Oh, Gods. He wasn’t going survive this weekend in any way, was he?
Dazed, he staggered through Yanof’s elegant house, knowing how he stood out in the crumpled, smelly clothes he’d worn downstairs, pacing in circles, as he had been for almost an hour. Somewhere close by he heard the sound of a powerful shower jet start up -- water, cascading over Aydn’s naked flesh -- and it made him flinch. He almost fled to the sanctuary of the room he was supposed to have slept in, as if it were an escape pod that’d keep him safe.
By the time he’d gotten there, calmed his breath, and stripped back off the tight, stained trousers he’d worn the night before, regret had long since had time to set in and rotate to horror, fear, and outright nausea at his own actions. How could he do something like that to one of the unclean?
A vampire? He was old enough; he should have known better. So much better. It didn’t matter if said vampire had been literally gagging for it. He should have had the strength to walk away. He’d made it this far through life by being tougher than others.
But all it had taken was a pair of gleaming eyes and a thick cock to make him crumble.
Damn it! Darien cursed himself as he got dressed, deliberately picking out the least appealing things he’d brought. A loose tunic with a hole in one shoulder, clean but battered beyond being presentable. Meant for sleeping. Ugly and safe. Thick socks. A new, sturdy and (thank Gods) baggy pair of pants.
When he looked at himself in the mirror, he was reasonably satisfied. A slob with messed-up hair and a sour cast to his mouth. Nothing to want there. Good. Aydn should take one look at him, make a face, and turn his attention somewhere else. Back to the punked out blond, or to the darker vampiress? Either, or both. So long as he kept his eyes, mitts, and sable voice off Darien, Darien would be happy.
Fuck! He needed a distraction. Distractions were good. Kept him from thinking about -- things he wasn’t going to think about.
But first, the hells if he wasn’t going to have breakfast. A good breakfast, the kind he hadn’t had the time or money to make in years, since he discovered how much good food really cost and how much quicker a snack from the Mess really was, devoured on the run. Yanof would surely have her cabinets well stocked. He opened the cold box door and almost cheered.
Eggs! He snagged six of those. Bacon? Yes! Sausage. Bread for toast. Real butter. Orange marmalade in a small jar. Fresh juice. Milk. Best of all -- coffee! The good kind, darkly roasted and aromatic enough to flood his senses. Whole-bean, even, with a small grinder right on the counter.
Out of habit, he started to make enough for two, thinking unconsciously of Rohan. He paused, starting to put back half of it, then, a little regretfully, went on as he started. Darien knew he could eat and drink every scrap of the feast without trouble.
But when he had finished his feast, he could still hear the shower running. Darien glanced down and frowned. Either the vampire liked his showers cold, or Yanof had one hell of a hot water cistern.
For some reason, that pissed him off. As if Aydn were taking a thirty-minute shower just to annoy him. He’d bang on the door, but the Commander had perfectly polished wood instead of beads or tiles, and he wouldn’t risk scratching the material. Darien swiped a last crumb of toast into his mouth, sighed at the pure pleasure of good white bread with sweet jam, and made up his mind. He’d just go yell at the vampire. Through the door. The closed door. Order him to behave.
He found the door easily enough, thick and solid, so he pitched his voice to a booming, drill-sergeant level and shouted, “You! Hurry it up!”
“Sorry, can’t hear you,” Aydn said so quickly that Darien knew damn well he’d understood every word. “Come again?”
Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? “The schedule Yanof left me says you need feeding. I’m supposed to watch you until you’re --” He swallowed. “-- sated. I’ve finished my own breakfast already.”
He heard a light, cynical laugh as Aydn turned the water down. “Are you very hungry this morning?”
Darien prickled with irritation. “I’m a big man. I like a big breakfast.”
“As it happens, so do I. Not necessarily bacon and eggs, but I enjoy protein in the mornings.”
Darien’s eyes bugged out briefly. The little shit! “I know what you’re doing and it’s not going to work,” he warned. “Do us both a favor and just stop trying, all right?”
“Then asking you to come in here and hand me a towel is out of the question?”
“So far out of it, it’s not even in the same city.” It wasn’t to release his frustrations, really it wasn’t, but Darien banged on the door a few times. “I said move!”
“Mmmm,” Aydn moaned. “Sorry, lover. You can’t rush certain things. Cleanliness is next to godliness, after all.”
“Very funny.”
“Whoever said I was joking?” A soft groan. “Why is the shower so good for this, I wonder? Darien, have you ever had anyone in the bath? With the water surrounding you like warm rain, slicking you down, slippery with soap?”
Darien swallowed. His cock jerked, but he ignored it. Or tried to. “Aydn, you have to stop this.”
“I don’t think I could if I tried. I can feel it coming on now.” Darien heard a groan, not at all faked for his benefit. “One’s own hand… it’s hardly good enough… not when there’s another, a better, bigger, broader one…”
“Aydn, stop it.”
“Your hand, Darien. I’m imagining your hand on me right now. And it feels good. So very, very good…”
Darien’s fingers twitched. Gods, he could remember it. The feel of that slick vampire cock in his grasp, the way it felt, like steel under silk. “Stop it.”
“Can’t,” Aydn gasped. “Too good. Gods, Darien, Darien!”
“Aydn!” Darien hissed back. His own cock was hard by then, damn it, just from listening to the vampire’s voice.
Aydn gave a strangled groan in response -- the sound of a man coming to his own satisfaction. Darien swallowed hard. He could almost see the thick-sticky white come spurting over those slim fingers, the water pelting it away and down the drain. His heart was beating way too fast, and he thought his cock was going to pop from the pressure in it.
There was a pause, and then: “If it were you,” Aydn whispered, “I would have gone down on my knees for you. I would have sucked you until you came and swallowed every drop. Watched you under the water. You would have been the one calling my name.”
Darien realized his hand was flat on the door, white with the pressure of it. “Aydn, don’t… Gods, please don’t.”
“I want you.”
“Don’t.”
“I need you.”
“Please, Aydn, no.”
“I’ll have you again.” The husky voice was gaining strength. “Darien, come in. I’m strong and I’m a vampire. I could have myself ready for you just by looking at your body.”
Darien gave a full-body tremble. Despite himself, his hand reached for the doorknob.
“Come in,” that voice enticed. “Come in to me, Guardsman…”
He could… he could… he should… oh, hells, no, he shouldn’t… couldn’t… wouldn’t!
Backing away, not trusting himself to say a word, Darien turned on his heel and ran to his room for the second time that morning, where he jerked down his pants, fell on the bed and pumped himself hard, rough, fast, until he came with a violent splatter over his belly. He was breathing as if he’d just run a marathon. And he hadn’t even seen the vampire, seal-slick and hard, hand running over himself beneath the warm spray… he’d just imagined it, almost felt it, all but tasted it.
He shook with the aftershocks of his orgasm and thought of Aydn, of the breakfast he’d had down below, and of the days ahead.
Darien groaned. He knew he wasn’t going to survive existing in the same house as Aydn without going crazy, or giving in to the urge to fuck that pretty boy’s mouth and ass twenty-four-seven.
Was he?
Chapter Seven
Darien lay on his bed, unwilling to get up and move. Guilt worried at him like a hungry dog with sharp, sharp teeth. He was shirking his duties. Even though it was daylight, he wouldn’t have put it past Aydn to have found some way to cause mischief. For certain, he didn’t sleep during the sunlight hours like the other vampires he’d seen in his days on the job.
He had thought this would be such an easy assignment. Been sure this was his ticket to the promotion he’d wanted so much. And it might have been, but it came with a price. A fallen seraphim, lithe and limber and illegal, who’d gotten Darien into his bed the first night he was there.
Shit! Darien sat up in bed, rubbing the palms of his hands over his eyes. His “own” bed, in the spare bedroom, all alone. Thank the Gods. He’d locked the door, but he knew for certain Aydn would be able to find a set of keys and let himself in. He’d attack without a qualm in the morning, able to smell Darien’s arousal.
Gods help him, he was hard. Tenting the thick trousers he wore, struggling with the need to reach for his cock and pump. He’d made a damp spot he could feel sticking to his skin. Why? Because he’d been dreaming of that vampire. Of Aydn. Slim and sturdy, gloriously tempting as only a demon could be. Seductive as an incubus made flesh.
Just thinking of him, everything he tried to forget, all he thought he’d purged, came rushing back.
The feel of that lithe, slender body writhing under his as he drove into it. Lean legs wrapping around his back. Sliding over his shoulders. Spreading wide open beneath him. Being held up tight to his chest with slim fingers, displaying a puckered hole that he wanted Darien to push inside. He didn’t take no for an answer.
Darien shuddered hard, feeling his pulse race. Gods, he was about to come! He hadn’t even touched himself and the memories alone were going to give him an orgasm.
Not even Rohan at his best could have…
Frantic, he scrabbled his trousers off. Mercifully, his dirtied shirt lay crumpled by the side of the bed and he grabbed that. There was just time, because he couldn’t resist the need to feel the clenching around his cock, for two, maybe three quick pumps before he came, spurting streams of spunk into the ruined shirt. A few drops escaped him, glittering on his lower belly. He thought of how Aydn had liked to lick those off, groaned, and felt his body shudder as it tried to orgasm a second time.
He ached just as badly when he was done, his dick protesting against the tight grip he had on it and the force of his climax. But it was limp at last, resting heavy and soft against his thigh.
His shirt was fit only for the trash by then, but he wasn’t tossing it out for just anyone to find. Shamefaced, he fumbled his way out of bed naked and hunted down a canvas bag under the en-suite sink, tossing the garment in and tying a knot before he buried it at the bottom of his clothing knapsack. It only left him with one clean shirt, so he’d better take care.
Moving carefully, he reached for the lacings to his trousers, hands shaking, and did them up loosely. He wasn’t going to survive this weekend. Not if he left his room. Desperate, he tried to think about how he could take care of the house and stay put. Then he laughed, bitterly He was hungry. He needed a shower because he stank. Gods, he stank, a dozen smells, sweat and come and desperation.
There was a shower just down the hall. You can do this, Darien. Get the clean tunic out, sneak down, and lock yourself in again.
He listened carefully first. No sound of anything out in the hallway. No breathing, no footsteps, none of the quiet humming Aydn liked to taunt him with to warn him that he was coming. Should be safe. Safe enough.
Carefully, he opened the door --
He groaned. Darien knew he should have known better, he really should have, because Aydn was leaning against the wall directly across, eyes bright and full of dancing devils. Darien knew without being told he had heard the slap of flesh on flesh, listened to his groaning, and could smell the overpowering scent of come billowing from the room.
The vampire shook his head slightly. “Really, Darien,” he said mildly. “One would think you’re afraid of me.”
Darien flinched. Maybe he was.
“Or is it,” Aydn murmured, drawing closer, “that you’re afraid of yourself? You know what you want. I heard you call my name. It’s me you’re longing for.”
Darien gritted his teeth. “I could go -- to -- prison,” he enunciated as well as he could through a stiff jaw. “You’re a one-way ticket to prison.”
“Only if someone finds out.” Aydn’s eyes could have lured a saint into a brothel. “And who’s to tell them? You? I think not. Would you risk your chance at all you’ve worked so hard for?” He glided closer to Darien, step by slinking step. The light hit his face just right, making him look more edible than ever. Darien’s heart thumped, his spent dick twitched, and he held back a moan.
Aydn reached out and traced one finger down Darien’s bare chest. “Even if I chose to tell about what we’ve done together, I’ve more than enough ammunition already to send you down forever. So why not enjoy this while it lasts?”
Darien wavered, then jerked back. “What is it with you?” he asked, desperate. “Do you just get off on playing whore or what?”
Blink, blink. “Whore? Me? You malign me. I don’t sleep with just anyone. In fact, I’m quite discriminating.”
“Yeah. Real discriminating. Two women in your bed and then me, with hardly a chance to breathe in between.”
Aydn dismissed that with a wave. “I’ve known those two for decades now. What we do together, we do as friends, to relieve those certain… urges. And never more than once a night.” He was close enough by then to hook an arm around Darien’s neck and draw him in, face-to-face so that his breath was warm on Darien’s lips. “You, on the other hand, are a man worth pursuing, as often as possible. And I believe I told you before -- what I want, I generally manage to get.”
Darien burned with the need to kiss those lips. “Don’t,” he managed. “Just don’t. It’s wrong.”
“Only because you think it is. I say it’s right.”
“You say a lot of things, Aydn.” Darien tried to pull back and away, but Aydn was stronger than he looked, and that other arm had slipped around his waist. “Thing is, I don’t think you mean any of it. I think it’s all just a game to you.”
“A game?” Aydn looked genuinely offended. “I happen to like you, Darien. I don’t like everyone. In fact, I like very few people. You’re intelligent, honest -- though I must say, that’s growing irritating -- and you have an amazing cock on you.”
“Stop!” Darien wrestled away from the gripping arms at last. “I’m not ready.”
“You were quite ready last night.”
“Not to be stalked. Hunted, like you’re the cat and I’m some kind of mouse.”
“And?” Aydn shrugged elegantly. “I prefer humans. The few lovers I’ve taken have been warm and alive. Often friends of my sister’s.”
Darien stared.
“Oh, she knows. Trust me. She knows everything about me. What I like. What I do. Who I do.” Aydn flat-palmed Darien’s chest. “But I knew what I was, and what I liked, long before that. My own kind holds little appeal for me besides common entertainment. I need the warm-blooded in my bed.”
Darien could only shake his head. “You’re sick.”
“Am I… Master?” Aydn purred. He lifted his head and kissed Darien, just a light feathering of lips against lips. “Can you tell me it doesn’t do… anything… for you to have an eager student like me, ready to learn his lessons? And I’m certain there’s so much you could teach me.”
Darien trembled again. “You’re shaking,” Aydn murmured. “Cold, without a shirt on? You need a shower. A hot shower. Steaming water pouring down on that skin, warming you up from the outside in.” His fingers moved in suggestive circles. “And someone to wash you,” he purred. “Someone who’ll see to it that every part of you is clean.”
Their mouths were close o
nce more. “Let me guess. You’re volunteering?” Somehow it didn’t come out as sarcastically as Darien wanted. More of a… moan. He’d lost control, like he’d already, always, lost it around this vampire. Aydn had cast some kind of a spell that couldn’t be resisted.
“No one else.” Aydn kissed him again. A tongue flickered lightly over Darien’s lips, parted slightly, darted in and out. “You know you want to. Why not simply do it? No one will ever know. No one will ever tell. Just you.” Kiss. “Just me.” Kiss. “I can make you feel like you’ve never felt before. You already know that.” Kiss. Gentle fingers tugged at his hands. “Come with me, Darien. Fall. It’s easy.”
With that, Darien plummeted from the skies, crashing down to earth. Gods. He was only a man. He could only take so much. He was going to hell, hell, hell, and probably prison along the way, but he just didn’t care anymore. Not when he was crushing Aydn’s arms in his hands and ravaging that taunting vampire mouth, plundering it greedily with his tongue.
Aydn’s cool hands roved everywhere over Darien’s bare skin and the curves of his ass, squeezing, then slipping between his legs and stroking, where Darien’s cock told him it might be sore but was still plenty interested. He was being pulled along inexorably toward the shower room where he knew there would be a stall big enough for two, and sweet-smelling soaps designed to entice a man into drowning in foam.
Once in there the tile felt cold under his bare feet, but Aydn stood with him and nothing else mattered. Clever hands undid his lacings, letting the trousers fall and pool around his ankles. He lifted one foot and then the other and stood there, naked and a little ashamed, while Aydn raised Darien’s hands to his own clothing. “You now,” he whispered. “You know you want to.”
