Daimon

by Pelaam

  "Thank you so much," Leland said.

  Daimon smiled and then lifted his head.

  "Take your things upstairs and try them on. Take a book and DVD with you and go to the room opposite the bedroom you were in this morning. It has a DVD player and comfortable seating. I am getting a visitor. A Lycan. Don't worry," he added, seeing the anxiety in the turquoise depths. "You can't be detected if he doesn't pass my door, and I won't be inviting him in. Go and pick something to wear for having a picnic lunch with me."

  "But you said I couldn't leave the house," Leland said, curiosity clearly superseding worry. He tucked a book under his arm and a DVD into one of the bags as he jostled them to carry comfortably.

  "Leave that, and our visitor, to me," Daimon assured with a sultry smile. He watched the small blond scurry away in a flurry of black sheet, slim legs, and shopping bags. It made him pleased and proud that Leland trusted him with his safety.

  As he started towards his front door in anticipation of his visitor, his appearance underwent a variety of changes before he finally settled on how to look and his dress… or lack thereof.

  ****

  Gene strode towards the impressive mansion set in its private grounds. He could not feel Leland anywhere and knew the young Lycan could not conceal himself so well without some form of help. Jerard, the blond's father, was displeased he had kept Leland sedated, even though it was for the boy's safety. Gene would rather lose his own arm than hurt Leland in any way.

  As angry as Jerard had been then, it would be nothing compared to his alpha's fury if he knew his son had vanished in the night.

  Gene knew the older man loved Leland dearly, and although he would not have gone to such extremes himself, he understood the other man's fear of losing his beloved only child or finding the naive young man had been taken advantage of.

  He gave a deep sigh. But Jerard was also overall pack leader, and Gene under his authority, so he obeyed his alpha's instruction—to keep Leland secure until Jerard could get to him and talk to him.

  As he approached the large wooden door set with an antique iron knocker of a lion with a ring in its mouth, his nostrils flared. He inhaled deeply. He could scent a sweet, almost seductive musk. He licked his lips appreciatively, wondering if the owner of such a beguiling scent would look as good as he smelled.

  Taking a deep breath, Gene knocked on the wooden door, ready to scent and feel for Leland inside. All such notions fled, and his breath caught in his throat at the vision that stood before him.

  The shirtless man opening the door displayed a smooth, well-defined tanned chest that seemed to silently demand homage be paid with lips and tongue. Well-worn cut-off shorts hung low on narrow hips, the crotch so threadbare that Gene stared, certain he could see the outline of an impressive male appendage. Finally Gene looked up to study a face of masculine beauty. The brunet had a hint of stubble on his upper lip and down the centre of his chin, and deep brown eyes that seemed almost black gazed at him with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.

  "Can I help you?" The voice, sinfully seductive, broke more of Gene's reserves. He tried valiantly to keep his body's responses to the attractive male under control, but he felt that control fracture by the second.

  "I was… was looking for my… ward," Gene said. His voice sounded breathless even to his own ears.

  ****

  Daimon mentally grinned widely. Arousal poured off the Lycan in waves and all of it was directed at him. Leland could not be detected, and he felt no other Lycans in his territory.

  With the right… distraction, the silver-haired male would forget his own name, much less his search. Daimon allowed his smile to widen on his face and heard the Lycan's breath hitch.

  And why not? I am a demon of sensuality.

  However, the idea of a casual liaison he normally wanted with an attractive male was pushed into the background. He wanted more. He gave a mental shake of his head.

  Focus! he thought angrily.

  "Your ward?" he asked innocently.

  "A young, blond man who was entrusted to me by his father," Gene explained.

  "If I see anyone like that I'll be sure to take him where he belongs," Daimon said sincerely. He took another step closer to the Lycan, tilting his head, angling his groin. "My name is Dai. I'm all alone at the moment. Is there anything I can do for you… now?" He let his voice drop in timbre and added a hint of huskiness.

  "My name's Gene. You're very beautiful."

  Daimon's smile widened as, seemingly of its own volition, Gene's hand reached to caress his be-ringed nub. The soft moan the touch earned seemed hot-wired directly to Gene's cock. Daimon knew instantly that the other male's flesh hardened rapidly.

  "Go round to the back of the house," Daimon offered in a sensual purr. "I'll meet you in the gazebo. It's more… romantic, don't you think?" As Gene nodded and turned away, Daimon locked the door and materialised at the back of the house fully naked.

  He waited until he sensed Gene had reached the gazebo and entered. From inside the gazebo, Gene would not immediately see his approach. He stalked towards his prey, licking his lips. He fully intended to enjoy himself with the attractive Lycan. Moving so that Gene could see him approaching, Daimon changed his walk. He began to sway, his hips rocking suggestively, which made his erection rise and fall with an elegant grace.

  He smiled widely as Gene began to hastily divest himself of his clothing.

  The Lycan then pulled Daimon into his arms. "You're incredible," Gene murmured.

  "You're pretty spectacular yourself," Daimon replied, nuzzling at Gene's throat. Daimon loved the silver and black fur of Gene's chest and he could truly appreciate the other male's powerful and toned physique. This Lycan took care of himself. Daimon felt sure Gene would prove a strong, passionate lover.

  He gave a moan of appreciation as Gene's lips devoured his own, and the silver-haired male began to push him towards the only furniture in the gazebo: a day bed. As he lowered Daimon to the bed, Gene stretched out over him, nudging Daimon's legs apart with powerfully muscled thighs.

  Genuine moans spilled from Daimon's lips as he let the other man dictate their lovemaking. He bared his throat as Gene began to nip and lick at the vulnerable flesh. Then the talented lips and tongue descended to his begging nipples. As his lover sucked at one, he pinched and rolled the other, ensuring both rose into reddened, swollen teats. Then Gene's gaze raked greedily over Daimon's shaven groin and the red-domed penis that dripped steadily, silently begging for his mouth to pay it attention.

  Daimon knew there was more than simple lust between them. Yet his priority had to be Leland. He would explore a relationship after the young Lycan was safe. If Gene permitted.

  To Daimon's delight, Gene swirled his tongue down his smooth, warm skin to lick slowly, root to tip, over his aching erection. Daimon's hips were pinned securely in place as Gene licked slowly, covering every millimetre of hot, hard flesh with his tongue. He probed at Daimon's slit, drinking down the elixir and growling his enjoyment. Finally, he inhaled the swollen shaft to the hilt and began to bob his head up and down, sucking insistently with every upward movement.

  Daimon writhed wantonly, lost in pleasure. The Lycan possessed great sexual talent, and Daimon felt his climax gathering strength. He wanted to thrust, to use Gene's mouth, but he let the Lycan control him. His time would come again, he would ensure it. He gave himself over to the sensation of impending orgasm. He caressed Gene's head, carding through the silver hair, his own head thrashing from side to side. With a groan of his lover's name, Daimon came. Gene pushed a finger inside him, probing at his prostate as a throat milked him of his crème.

  As Daimon came down from his orgasmic high, he gave Gene a sultry look and then rose elegantly onto his hands and knees, spreading his legs wide, offering himself. He cast another come-hither look and reached under a pillow to hand Gene a tube of unopened lube. As the Lycan took it, his low growling became louder.

  Daimon moaned his encouragement as G
ene stroked at his thighs and buttocks and fondled his sac. He felt his cheeks spread, and then Gene worked two slick fingers inside him. They moved easily, the demon relaxing immediately to accept them. He groaned and rotated his hips as the Lycan found his sweet spot and exploited it. When a third finger entered him, Daimon pushed back insistently. He heard the continual growling change in timbre and knew Gene wanted to take him.

  "Now, please, do it now. Take me," he murmured breathlessly, looking back over his shoulder. "Take me hard," he added with a purr as he heard the Lycan's breath catch.

  He saw the surprise in Gene's eyes and gave his best, sultry smile.

  "Now," he whispered.

  At the verbal incitement, Gene gave a sound that was half groan, half howl. Daimon moaned his pleasure as Gene pushed inside him. He wanted to push back, take everything in one hard, fast movement, but kept himself in his human character. Gene held his hips, taking care of him, being the considerate lover that Daimon instinctively knew was inherent in the Lycan's nature.

  Mate.

  Again the thought forced itself into Daimon's mind and he tried to ignore it. Leland needed him, and no matter what, he would not fail the young Lycan.

  He scented Gene's arousal, a hot, musky aroma that now saturated the air, combined with his own. Daimon tried to rotate his hips, and in response, Gene withdrew and thrust hard inside him, holding him close. Daimon growled as Gene leant over his back, rubbing his furred chest against Daimon's skin, and took his resurgent shaft in one hand and his sac in the other. Daimon sighed Gene's name as his body was stroked and pleasured to a slow, sensuous rhythm. For Daimon, supporting Gene's weight as his lover tormented his cock and balls was no hardship.

  Daimon gave a sound of loss as Gene straightened up, but let out a deep groan of pleasure as Gene began a series of long, deliberate thrusts, almost completely withdrawing before pushing back into Daimon's depths. Daimon knew it was too good to last.

  As Gene reached under Daimon to pull on the hard flesh, he began a series of rapid-fire thrusts, pounding against Daimon's prostate. Daimon heard the low howl of completion as Gene's semen seared his depths, and that triggered his own release, his seed flowing over his lover's insistent hand.

  Daimon gave a half-smile as Gene collapsed on top of him, and he allowed himself to lie flat. He murmured his appreciation as Gene continued to thrust desultorily, still half-hard. He grinned as Gene began to speed up his movements. The Lycan's shaft rubbed over Daimon's sensitised gland again and again, and Daimon's sheath reacted, squeezing the flesh in its keeping.

  "Yes, good," Daimon muttered as Gene's mouth danced and played along his neck and shoulders, kissing and nipping as he began to thrust more powerfully. Daimon chanted his lover's name breathlessly, and Gene growled his pleasure as he forcefully powered deep into Daimon's supine body. Daimon knew the Lycan was close to a second release. He heard Gene's guttural groan as another orgasm raced through his lover.

  Daimon grinned. He knew from personal experience about Lycans' sexual prowess. With the right lover, Daimon knew Gene could have managed a third climax. However, he remembered to look suitably impressed as Gene pulled carefully from his body, urging Daimon onto his back, and Daimon saw appreciation, and something deeper in the Lycan's green eyes. Their gazes locked, and for a second or two, all else seemed to fade as he stared into satiated emerald.

  Then the moment passed, and Gene reached to wipe his replete penis on the sheet and did the same for Daimon's body before he began to gather up his clothes and dress.

  Daimon lay watching him thoughtfully. He had read the Lycan when the male had opened fully as his climax built. He caught one of Gene's hands as the other man refastened his jeans. He brought it to his mouth and kissed the palm, then released it with a swipe of his tongue.

  For a second or two it seemed Gene was not fully sure what Daimon wanted. Then he lowered himself over Daimon's still spread body and they began to kiss. The kisses became slow and deep as each man tasted and explored the other. Tongues caressed and twined as each man learnt the taste and texture of the other. This time it was with a reluctant sigh that Gene pulled away.

  "I have to go, Dai," he said, and Daimon was pleased to hear a distinct lack of enthusiasm colouring his lover's voice. "Perhaps I might see you again?"

  "I'm certain of it," Daimon assured, pulling Gene down for a last, lingering kiss. Then they both stood and walked to the gazebo door. "I look forward to it," Daimon added as Gene walked away.

  He waited till the Lycan was out of sight and dematerialised. He reformed in his kitchen. The session had sated one appetite and stoked another… and he had promised Leland a picnic.

  ****

  At the shout from Daimon, Leland hurried downstairs. Oblivious to the appraising and approving look from the demon, he stared at the changes made to the library. The space vacated by moving the table now had a red and white chequered tablecloth on the floor. Around the room, pots of lavender scented the area. The cloth had plates of French bread, butter, Camembert and brie cheeses, pâté, grapes, and little patisseries.

  "Daimon, it's…" Words failed him.

  In addition to the wealth of food, a bottle of ruby-red Burgundy stood on the cloth and in an ice bucket he saw a bottle of Dom Perignon as well as mineral water.

  "I promised a picnic," Daimon said, and Leland grinned as the demon's arms swept out with a theatrical flourish.

  ****

  The two men sat and ate and drank companionably. Leland spoke of France, Randal, his studies, and Daimon of the times and places he had experienced. He realised Leland hadn't spoken for some time, looked up, and smiled as he saw that Leland had curled into a ball and nodded off.

  He knew full well the young Lycan had not dressed to inflame his innate ardour. However, the sky-blue silk shirt moulded perfectly to Leland's lithe frame and enhanced already entrancing eyes. The cream chinos fit perfectly. Leland looked edible, and Daimon was grateful Gene had assuaged most of his carnal appetite.

  At least for now.

  He easily lifted the Lycan from the floor and onto the large divan. He put on a CD of soft music, selected a large tome to read, and settled himself on the comfortable couch with Leland's head pillowed in his lap.

  Sated and content, with a friend he cared for, Daimon gave a pleased sigh. Sometimes life was indeed good.

  ****

  With a concern he hoped would not be picked up by the young Lycan, Daimon watched over Leland. Yesterday they had enjoyed one another's company and day had turned to evening and night without repercussion. However, this coming evening would see the first night of the full moon, and the imminent Phase had Leland clearly restless. Daimon repeatedly went to the young man's side as the young Lycan became more and more tense.

  While Daimon knew Leland's instinct made him want to get outdoors, especially when still reaching out to Randy, he knew it was too soon. As a consequence of his short psychic link with the blond, Daimon could feel Randy at the edge of his consciousness. It meant the other Lycan wasn't far away and closing fast. Daimon estimated Randy's arrival coinciding with moonrise. However, Gene and the others still searched for his friend, and they were also close by.

  By the time evening had come around, whines and growls peppered Leland's speech. Daimon recognised the behaviour as Leland reacting to the close proximity of his mate. The Lycan wanted to turn, then run and seek out Randy. The moon didn't trigger an irresistible urge to become a wolf. But, the young male had an almost overpowering sexual drive to mate.

  As darkness claimed the sky and the moon rose in its cold, silvery glory, Daimon finally opened his door.

  "Strip and complete your transformation here in safety," the demon instructed, barring Leland's exit. He smiled in approval as Leland began to pull roughly at the clothes that irritated his friend's already changing skin. "Now reach out to your mate and run to him as fast as you can. I will deal with anyone who tries to keep you apart."

  Daimon nodded as Leland spared him
a glance and gave a quick smile.

  "Thank you, Daimon," he whispered.

  The demon watched as a covering of golden down appeared on Leland's smooth skin, his ears elongated, and his teeth sharpened as he took on a wolfish appearance. Then he ran, a mournful howl echoing in his wake. Daimon dematerialised.

  The demon easily took care of the humans. He caught them one by one, rendered them unconscious, and locked them in the room they had set up to imprison Leland.

  Next his attention turned to locating and intercepting Gene. He could feel other Lycans as he waited for the silver werewolf and frowned. Three other Lycans. Leland he recognised instantly. The other two he recognised as powerful alphas. Yet with one, he could feel its fear, its deep anxiety; it was much farther away than the other.

  He tracked Leland and Randal closing in on each other. From his vantage spot, he would intercept Gene as the lovers met. He looked at the perfect silver moon high in the sky, which lit the nearby the lake with its cold light.

  Surging through the forest heading towards the lake, Leland appeared first, and then Daimon got his first sight of Randal. The other Lycan made his approach from the opposite direction.

  Leland had not exaggerated. Daimon thought Randal indeed magnificent. Dark fur covered most of the bared torso. What remained of his T-shirt hung in shreds from a solid body. Daimon saw some trails of blood where the werewolf's claws had cut into his own torso as he clumsily attempted to rid himself of cumbersome clothing. His pants had gone, and Daimon stared at long, powerful, hirsute legs. Randal's white briefs, little more than tatters, tried unsuccessfully to restrain a rampant erection.

  As Daimon completed his appraisal, Leland and Randal came together, and he watched the blond drop to his knees and offer his throat to his alpha mate. At the submissive gesture, Randal threw back his head and howled, sending a frisson of raw sexuality down Daimon's spine. His own flesh reacted, instantly becoming hard.