Final Dance

by Samantha Cayto

  It also gave him something to look at, with their bare chests and arms slick from their exertion. Not that he would ever want any of them over his Master… Physical beauty was nothing compared to the attractiveness of organic power. And he had access to that simply by sitting sprawled against the cool chest of an alien vampire. The fangs that had been sunk into his neck retracted. A few cursory licks of the Master’s tongue meant Andri wouldn’t bleed out. He hardly cared at the moment because his own orgasm made him gasp and close his eyes. But for his Master’s cock anchoring him, he would have fallen onto the floor. The rim of a glass bumped against his lips and he greedily drank the sweet juice the Master offered. It restored his energy enough for him to crack open his eyes.

  His gaze immediately homed in on two men wrestling at the far end of the large room. The way in which they grappled with each other made him think this wasn’t a sparring session. There were too many vicious punches thrown and one of the men kneed the other when he had the chance. It made Andri wince, although his cock tried to rally once more. He was too spent for it to go anywhere, but he could appreciate the show nevertheless, especially when the one whose balls had been crunched retaliated by biting the other man’s earlobe off. A howl and a spray of blood momentarily caught everyone else’s attention. After a few seconds of curious looking, they returned to what they’d been doing.

  Dracul’s dick swelled inside him and he began to lazily hump once more. Andri moaned in part pleasure, part pain. His insides were being rubbed raw, but that hardly mattered, so long as the Master was happy… He hesitated to think that perhaps part of the Master’s unrelenting fucking was based on worry that, despite the skill and determination of this new human army, they would not be up to the task of defeating the other aliens. Sheer numbers would only work if they were overwhelming. The few dozen recruits he’d obtained hardly seemed enough, but the Master had been very clear how many to get. If he had wanted more, Andri would have moved heaven and earth to please him, which wouldn’t have been necessary anyway. There was no end to the availability of human psychos looking to wage war for the right price.

  He dared to voice his concerns in Welsh, as they always did now for privacy. It made him feel even more special in the Master’s eyes, part of the inner sanctum. “Master, may I ask a question?” He braced for a blow that never came. It was a bit of a disappointment, actually. Dracul slid a palm lazily across his chest and pinched a nipple hard enough to make him whimper. Oh, even better!

  “What is that?” The pressure on his nipple increased.

  It was hard to speak through the fog of pain, but that was the whole point. “Will this be a sufficient number of soldiers for your plan?”

  The pressure ramped up briefly, making him yelp. Once again, the men in the room paused, this time to look at him. Through the tears swimming across his eyes, he saw them smiling. Some adjusted their crotches. Even the men in a heated wrestling match gave him their attention. Well, one of them did. The other’s eyes were fixed on the ceiling. Is he dead? Dracul growled and everyone went back to what they’d been doing, as if goosed by an electric prod. And, yeah, the victorious wrestler simply swiped blood from his lips, pushed to a stand then went over to the speed bag.

  “We might require one more.” The Master’s breath tickled the top of his head. “Two, given my meal yesterday.” Then, “No, it doesn’t matter. These cretins are all I need.”

  “They are certainly strong and brave in the way of the utterly stupid, Master, but surely your enemies can handle such a small group.”

  The Master drew him in tightly to his broad chest and rolled his hips to embed his dick as far as it would go. His lips brushed Andri’s ear. “Of course they can,” he said in a whisper. “Most of these idiots are already dead. They just don’t know it yet. And they won’t until it is too late. Do you understand?”

  Andri shivered at the menacing tone. “Yes, Master. They are red herrings for your plan.” It made sense now, although he still couldn’t see the bigger picture of what was being put into place.

  “Exactly.”

  He dared to go further in his thinking. “All this training is giving you a chance to pick which of them are the best. Those you’ll reserve for the more important roles while the others become cannon fodder?”

  “That is also correct.” Dracul scraped his teeth down Andri’s lobe, making him think of the man still lying in the corner. “There is more to you than a tight hole, which is a good thing, given how tired I am of fucking just it.”

  Alarm shot through him. He instinctively clamped down on the cock inside him to increase his Master’s pleasure. “Please… I will do anything to make you happy, Master. Fuck me until I bleed. Or I’ll gladly suck you. I love being choked by your amazing cock.”

  Dracul chuckled. “Oh, you’d say or do anything to keep your place, wouldn’t you, slut?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “I can destroy your body and drain it of blood and you’d still want me, isn’t that right?”

  His fear ratcheted, as did his arousal. “Anything you desire, Master. I belong to you and only you.” His heart hammered and his breathing sped up.

  Dracul chuckled again. “Not to worry, slut. You have your uses and I will soon have others to amuse me. Stay loyal, do as I say and I will reward you.”

  “Yes, Master. You can count on me. You are all that I’ve ever wanted, the one I was always destined to serve.”

  The man’s grip tightened around Andri’s chest, making it harder to breathe. “Even when you were taking Petru’s cock?”

  “Especially then,” he gasped. “He was nothing compared to you. He was never worthy of your patronage.”

  The hold eased. “You always know the right thing to say. You are clever, indeed. And if he comes crawling back and I tell you to kill him for me?”

  Andri didn’t hesitate to answer. “I will cut out his heart and feed it to you.” It didn’t matter if he meant the words or not. Petru would never dare ask for forgiveness. He knew Dracul better than anyone. Mercy and second chances were not an option. He wouldn’t see his old master again.

  “Again, the right answer, and so prettily said that I almost believe you.”

  “It’s the truth, Master. I swear.”

  “I never trust words, slut, only reward actions.” With that, he bent Andri almost in two and took hold of his hips with a punishing grip. Andri clasped the end of the chair to brace against the assault.

  “You at the speed bag, come here!” the Master barked in English. It was the one common language of all the mercenaries.

  The man made one more strong punch before heeding the Master’s call. His gaze flicked to Andri for only a second as he approached. “Sir?” He stood with legs braced and his weight on the balls of his feet. No fool, he was expecting an attack. Flecks of dried blood still dotted his lower face.

  “You fight dirty.”

  The guy grinned. “Yeah, ’cause winning’s the point.”

  “Well said.”

  “And I don’t like it when some asshole gets into my space.”

  “I’m sure he had it coming,” the Master agreed in an oily tone that nevertheless held menace in it.

  “I’ll clean up the mess.”

  “No, the slut will.”

  The soldier glanced at Andri again with indifferent eyes. “He doesn’t look strong enough.”

  The Master pumped harder into him. “You’d be surprised at what he can do, how much he can take.” There was a pause. “Try him.” The Master grabbed a hunk of Andri’s hair and used it to pull his head back.

  Knowing what was coming, Andri’s skin tingled with anticipation. His spent cock found new life. Here was a unique kind of experience. Petru had never shared him with anyone and, as amazing as his Master was, even he couldn’t fuck him and choke him at the same time. He licked his lips to prepare to take what he could see would be a big dick.

  But the soldier didn’t get any closer. Instead, he said, “I’ve see
n what happens when someone tries to use your toy.”

  “Without permission, of course. I’m issuing an invitation, so there is no need for concern.”

  The room was quiet, everyone else unmoving, except for a few who were rubbing their bulges, if not sticking their hands down their pants. The man still hesitated.

  “I don’t know. I’m not into dudes.”

  Dracul tugged at Andri’s head some more, making his face jiggle. “But he’s so pretty, as much as any girl. And a mouth’s a mouth, for all that. Close your eyes if you must. I insist.” Now it was clear—if hadn’t been before—that this generous offer wasn’t a suggestion.

  “Yes, sir.” The man slid his track pants down to mid-thigh as he got closer. He might not have been into boys, but his dick was certainly hard. And it was mouth-wateringly big.

  Closing his eyes, Andri opened wide and relaxed his throat. A moment later, something big and blunt slid all the way down in one brutal thrust. He’d been prepared for this, delighted in it, and already had a taken a lungful of breath. The salty, bitter taste of sweat coated his tongue.

  It was exquisite, being impaled at both ends. It didn’t matter that the men using him didn’t coordinate their movements or that the human was hopelessly awkward at skull-fucking. He let his body go loose, not fighting the push-me-pull-you of the experience. He didn’t remain entirely passive, however, working the dick with his throat muscles while squeezing his hole rhythmically.

  The cocks impaling him swelled at the same time, so he braced himself for the flood of cum that shot into him at both ends. He gagged and whimpered and came harder than he’d ever done before. This had been the right choice, throwing his lot in with Dracul. His life was just as he wanted it and would only get better. Once Dracul took over the world, Andri would be sitting right beside him at the top.

  Chapter Five

  “How’d you get stuck with this babysitting duty again?”

  Christos eyed Logan, who slouched in the passenger seat. “I’m merely making myself useful, given that I am superfluous in the training. Val and the others have that covered. My presence adds nothing to the effort. And as Damien needs to participate and worries that Our Safe Place is properly staffed, and Will worries when Damien does…” He shrugged. “Just helping the hive.”

  His carefully crafted nonchalance hid the fact that he was practically jumping out of his skin with the need to return to Mateo’s side, which was ridiculous. The boy was fine, well-fed and monitored by Harry, and he was on the mend sufficiently to be exhibiting signs of boredom. For that, he had a television with the bajillion channels that satellite offered. He would easily survive without Christos hovering over him. And it wasn’t as if Christos had the right to do so anyway. The boy was not his, was never going to be, and the earlier he started accepting that, the better.

  Not that his dick agreed. It was hard again, still hard really, having never completely subsided, no matter how many times he’d jerked off that day alone. Being at the charitable center to feed homeless youth would be a good reminder of how vulnerable Mateo was, damaged in a way that would benefit from a good job and some psychotherapy, not a one-sided relationship in which his body was the glue that held them together.

  Logan chuckled. “It’s funny how everyone used to refer to you all as the family. Now, it’s this weird concept that I associate with bugs.”

  “It’s always been hard to describe our relationship in human terms. We used to refer to each other as shipmates. Then we settled on family as humans became more sophisticated, even though those of us from above are not truly relatives. With Annika, we have finally become a hive once more. I understand,” he continued, “that hive is not quite right, but it’s as close as we can get to defining our social structure.”

  “Yeah, I get it. She’s a pistol too, that one. It’s hard to accept how she’s effectively growing right in front of my eyes.”

  “I can imagine how disconcerting that is.” He couldn’t, actually, but he’d been on this planet a long time and knew which words eased human minds.

  Logan twisted around to talk directly to the timid man in back seat. “I guess that is nothing new to you, huh?”

  “Not really,” came the quiet reply.

  The poor man was practically a ghost, wandering around the home they all shared and having little to do, scared of his own shadow. And who could blame him, given what he’d experienced living the hell that had been Dracul’s castle? The shipmate that had claimed and brutalized him was dead. Their hybrid son, however, was not. His contempt for his father was obvious, although Annika did wonders to keep his vicious habits and learned behavior in check. There was hope for Merlin, but less so for Alun. His participation in the training was earnest, according to Malcolm, but not very effective. And his stamina was limited for that sort of thing. His willingness to help out with the homeless kids was a good thing all around. It got him out of the new prison he was inadvertently stuck in and eased Christos’ and Logan’s burden of playing nice with the needy boys and girls. Christos didn’t do well with heartfelt aid and neither, by her own admission, did the woman warrior.

  “They mature quickly and slowly at the same time,” Alun offered. “It is…confusing.” It was the most Christos had ever heard the man say in one sitting.

  Logan snorted and turned to face the windshield. “You’ve got that right. At least she keeps that brat of yours in line. Man, has he got a mouth on him, and he takes ‘sullen teenager’ to new heights.”

  Christos raised his eyebrows at the harsh assessment of the poor human’s child. To his surprise, Alun neither rose to his son’s defense in the knee-jerk fashion of parents everywhere, nor did he join in the criticism.

  “It was hard for him growing up in Dracul’s castle. There were many expectations and no mercy. And I failed my child all the time. I couldn’t protect him from the one who sired him. He was lucky in being strong and able to survive things that others couldn’t. I am fortunate at least to have him still and not have to weep over the loss of someone I carried into the world.”

  Okay, now they’d had a record-shattering amount of communication from the man. His ability to feel guilt over his child’s upbringing and pity for him as well informed his nature and spoke of his inherent strength. To come through that hideous fate and not be irretrievably broken, as only humans could be, was remarkable. Christos’ estimation of him increased in that short ride to Our Safe Place.

  As he pulled into one of the parking spaces in their alley, Emil came out with a load of trash for the dumpster. He nodded at them, then waited as they all climbed out.

  The chef raised his hand. “Hey, good to see you, and right on time. I need to get back to the club and check on how dinner is coming along.” He didn’t try to touch any of them. Hugging and shaking hands was a purely human thing and Logan didn’t like to be touched unless absolutely necessary, Christos had come to learn. Alun hung back, as was his want, trying to look invisible. His earlier loquaciousness was now a distant memory.

  “I trust everything here is already prepared,” Christos said. Cooking was not his forte, even by the relatively easy standards of what was served in this place.

  Emil grinned. “Don’t worry. All you have to do is serve and do the dishes. It’s nothing you can’t handle, and if you run into any trouble, Logan and Alun are here to pick up the slack.”

  Logan shook her head. “Yeah, like domesticity is my thing, either. Alun’s the one I’m counting on at this point.”

  The man in question ducked his head, running his fingers through his ponytail. “I’m happy to help in any way I can.” He really was very pretty, especially now that he’d gained some weight. Emil had said the poor guy had looked like a scarecrow when he’d first been rescued. While still slender, he appeared healthy, with his pale skin and high cheekbones. His black hair was glossy. Really, if Christos was going to pursue a broken sex slave, he may as well set his sights on Alun. It made far more sense than this ridiculous intere
st in Mateo.

  “Okay, then,” Emil said, “I’ll get Shawn. He’s been helping out this afternoon but is working at the club tonight.”

  They trooped into the building’s kitchen together. Emil hustled the go-go boy with the brown skin and bright green eyes out to his SUV, leaving Christos and the others to take charge. There was a seemingly never-ending line of kids coming in to take a tray and fill it with plates of food and tall glasses of soda, milk or water. Some elected to get coffee or tea but the hot chocolate was the overall favorite.

  Christos went on auto-pilot, because it was easy to keep the warming trays full, while Alun served and Logan juggled prepared foods in the kitchen behind them. The lack of anything substantial to occupy his time meant that his mind was able to wander in the wrong direction. He kept wondering what Mateo was doing. Had he eaten his dinner already? Was his fever down? Had he sweated through his clothing and needed a sponge bath?

  Okay, now that was a very bad thought, because it led to him to imagining him doing that chore, which in turn reminded him of how he’d spent part of his morning naked and in the steamy shower with a slippery boy who was offering himself on a platter for Christos’ use. Thinking of all that silky skin he’d found under the grime made his palms itch and his dick throb. He forced himself to look at the kids getting food—to really study them, to see how desperate they were with so few options about how to better their lives.