Rogue

by Eden Bradley

  Rogue ran a hand through his hair, letting his fingers tangle there. “I didn’t understand.”

  “Of course not. How could you? There are frailties known only to humans. Have you ever loved a human, Rogue? I never asked—I only assumed.”

  “I have loved no one.”

  And yet…something warm and unfamiliar was stirring in his chest as he watched this utterly beautiful creature struggle with his pain.

  Ramsey stared at him for several long moments. “I don’t know which of us is the sadder—me for living with this grief, or you for never having any reason to feel it.”

  “If that’s what being mortal is...” He got to his feet and went to stand with Ramsey by the windows overlooking the lake. He lifted his hand, smoothed it over the older vampire’s flawlessly formed back, trying to prevent it from trembling as emotion flooded him. “If that’s what loving a human is, then are we not better off simply loving each other?”

  Ramsey’s turned to stare at him.

  “You do not love me,” he said. It was a statement, but Rogue took it as the question it was meant to be.

  “I…I admit I don’t know. How can I when it’s nothing I have experienced? But there is something here. Between us. You feel it. You have some understanding of it. Explain it to me. Tell me what it is.”

  “I cannot. All I know is this desire to have you. To command you completely. To let you in—something I have not done for more years than I care to think of. Years of lovers, but never anything more. I don’t know how to have more.”

  Something in Rogue’s chest—in his being—shifted. He dropped his defiance, his manufactured charm, and allowed himself to simply be for the first time in his memory. Allowed Ramsey to see the pure longing in his eyes. “Then command me. I will call you ‘sir’ if you ask, but I would rather call you by name. Be my lover, Ramsey. Let me be yours.”

  Ramsey grabbed his wrist, his iron grip biting into the bone. All Rogue could see was his green eyes, the expression that was all for him—that fierceness, that emotion, that desire. It was a powerful thing. He couldn’t resist. He didn’t want to.

  “Yes,” Ramsey whispered as he pushed him down on the cold, hard floor.

  Chapter Six

  He could not get over the texture of Rogue’s skin. He’d been with a hundred vampires or more—all of them as perfect as vampires always were. Yet this young one’s beauty went beyond the flawless sheen of preternatural life. His skin…so perfectly pale, as if he were carved entirely from ivory. Except for his pink lips, his pink nipples, the head of his hardening cock, which was as thick and heavy as his own.

  He pressed on Rogue’s chest, letting him know by his hard touch that he was still the one in command. He couldn’t allow him to ever doubt it or his own control would be gone completely.

  Rogue licked his lips, and it made his cock twitch with need.

  “Stay,” Ramsey ordered.

  God, he needed to fuck him, to suck that marble-hard shaft, tasting his sweet come on his tongue. But the control…it was everything. If it happened right here, right now, he would lose it altogether. His pulse was racing, his breath coming in shallow bursts. His heart…

  He shook his head.

  He had to pull in a deep breath, turn away from the beautiful porcelain body spread out on the floor, the spectacular fight in the young vampire finally surrendered, given to him in submission. It was too much.

  He strode to the doors of his suite, flung them open.

  “Julian!”

  His attendant vampire was there in a flash.

  “Yes, Ramsey?”

  “Take him to the dungeon. Chain him to a cross. A post. Whatever you find…intriguing. I turn him over to your hands until I get there.”

  He heard Rogue’s shocked gasp behind him—and sensed the trill of excitement in his veins, as well. Rogue’s blood was nearly singing already, that vampiric response to pain play that was the odd echo of the endorphins humans were often flooded with during kink play.

  His own blood had started that quivering vibration, as well, as if his body knew what was to come.

  “And Julian…prepare a human for me to play. Choose carefully. I want a male—one with superb stamina. You know what I like. I’ll be down in a few hours.”

  “What?” Rogue burst out. “Ramsey, after this…a few hours?”

  Ramsey only smiled at him.

  “A few hours…it is nothing to those of us who are nearly immortal. And I have tasks to attend to. Take him, Julian.”

  “Of course, Ramsey,” Julian said.

  He watched as Julian pulled the naked Rogue from the room—he was glowering gorgeously, his dark blond brows furrowed over his luminescent turquoise eyes, which rather amused the sadist in Ramsey. He lingered, drinking the rest of his wine. It was a good vintage, French, of course. It was his favorite. Excellent really.

  Having Rogue watch while he played some willing victim would be beyond exquis.

  Oh, yes…

  Perhaps it was himself who should be chained. Restrained. Because if he didn’t get a firm grip on this dangerous elixir that was simmering in his system…

  No.

  But first he would make sure his guests—the members of the Council—were all comfortable in the Palace and provided with entertainment. He called for Adriana. She really was the loveliest of vampires. Her warmth and sweet nature was the perfect foil for Julian’s dour façade—her being close by his side was often the only thing that made Julian’s presence bearable.

  “Adriana!” he called again, impatient to get on with the business at hand. To get out of his own head. He was thinking too much about Rogue. It was lust, amplified because they were vampires, creatures who felt everything more profoundly. He was thinking too much about everything.

  Adriana slipped through the doors. “My apologies. I was engaged elsewhere.”

  “Your business is to attend to me. To be available to me at any moment,” he said more harshly than he meant to.

  She approached him tentatively. “Ramsey,” she said softly. “Is all well with you? Is there anything I can do to help?”

  No one can help me.

  God, he hated self-pity.

  He gestured to her with a shake of his head. “I did not mean to be hard with you, Adriana. I am fine.”

  She paused before smiling at him. “Do not worry yourself. I believe I understand.”

  He nodded. “It is good one of us does.”

  Adriana’s slender brows raised over her dark, luminous eyes. “Rogue?”

  He let his tight shoulders fall the tiniest bit. “Rogue,” he admitted.

  “Where is he now?”

  “I’ve had Julian take him to the dungeon to wait for me.”

  “That must have pleased them both no end,” she said, trying to hide the smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.

  That made him smile a little. “Julian is, no doubt, pleased that he is the one to chain up the irascible Rogue.”

  “And I have confidence Julian understands he is not to touch him otherwise, something Rogue is likely unaware of, yes? And which I am also certain you planned.”

  “Of course.”

  Ramsey could almost feel his poor Rogue squirming. The idea made him grin. And his amusement helped him to calm down, to regain that sense of control—at times the only thing that had held him together through the long centuries.

  Control. Why was it so damn difficult to hang onto with Rogue? But he would do it.

  Agitated again, he moved to the windows, as he was wont to do when he needed to think. The sun was going down, the sky a blaze of pale amber behind a spiral of black smoke coming from somewhere in the city.

  “Oh, yes, I will take my pleasure with Rogue tonight,” he muttered. “And with whatever human Julian has picked out for me. I will do so as the Dominant, my command unsullied, even if the incorrigible Rogue challenges it—and he will.”

  Adriana came up behind him, lacing her arms around his waist and lean
ing her cheek against his shoulder.

  “Ramsey, can you not find a way to worry less about this? It will be what it will be.”

  “It will be what I allow it to be.”

  “Yes. That is exactly my point. What do you want to allow it to be? What do you want, Ramsey?”

  They stood together in silence for a good hour while he turned the question over in his mind, the loyal Adriana staying with him, as she always had when he needed her. He didn’t need to talk anything more through, but her quiet presence was a comfort while he gathered his strength. Until he made a decision—the only one he thought he could manage to live with. Until he was confident his emotions were safely locked down once more.

  “I can have Rogue,” he said finally. “My desire for him is undeniable. But I will have him, then let him go, which is as it should be. It is the only way I can go on.”

  “Ramsey, are you certain?”

  He laid his palm on the cool glass, letting the cold, hard surface soothe him. “I am. Adriana, I…I had a glimpse of my own history through Rogue. That was more than anyone should have to bear in any single lifetime, and I am not having it. I am not having it. Never again.”

  “Ah, Ramsey. I am sorry.” She laid a soft kiss on his shoulder.

  Never. Again.

  Not even for the most beautiful, the most fascinating vampire he’d ever come upon. Whose beauty and mystery pulled at him…

  No.

  He ground his jaw tight.

  He turned and patted her hand, his heart and his mind shutting down. “Come. We shall see to our guests.”

  The dungeon in the basement of the Palace was a primal place, with high walls of old stone and bare concrete floors. There were pillars and racks, benches and crosses. Chains hung from pulleys in the ceiling, some with steel cuffs or spreader bars suspended from them. Some with humans suspended in gorgeously complicated rope work. Music pulsed, lights swarmed in patterns of gold and red, giving everything a dreamlike quality.

  Seeing Rogue in chains as thick around as his own forearm, bound to a heavy metal post, his arms held tightly behind him, was like every kinky dream Ramsey had ever had. The unearthly beauty of him, his anger as he struggled and seethed, especially in this antediluvian place that was designed to bring out the animal in all who played there…oh yes. Perfect. And it hit him like a shock, most of the walls he’d just spent an hour building up crumbling in ruins at the sight of him.

  He felt that flutter of need in his groin—a flutter that wanted to turn into a pounding hammer—but he rolled his shoulders, breathing in the scents of leather and metal. Human sweat. Blood and desire. This was his place. And his body responded with the sense of absolute calm he always felt there.

  As long as he didn’t watch Rogue too carefully, bound in shining chains and rage.

  He turned to find Julian adjusting the leather cuffs on the wrists of the human male he’d asked for. He was cuffed to an iron bar hung from the ceiling on chains. His ankles were shackled to steel bolts set into the floor, his legs spread wide.

  Ramsey approached him and looked him over.

  Julian had known to choose a prime specimen for the master of this place, and he was truly spectacular. Tall and broad and heavily muscled, his golden-brown skin tattooed, his nipples pierced. A beast of a man with a handsome face and a wicked-looking goatee. His ears were pierced with large gauge plugs of jet. Ramsey inhaled, taking in the memory of the hurt as the man’s ears had been pierced, then stretched. He took in the scent of the big man’s desire, his yearning to be taken over by the only creatures that possibly could. He would be only too happy to oblige.

  As tempting a morsel as this human was, Ramsey was still keenly aware of Rogue watching from a few feet away.

  Focus.

  “What is your name?” he demanded of his voluntary victim.

  “I am Amon.” The voice was deep, rumbling in his chest. He spoke English with an odd accent.

  “Amon…is that not an Egyptian name?”

  “It is,” the enormous man agreed.

  “I am Ramsey, the owner of this place. But you will call me ‘Sir’.”

  “Yes, Sir.” The man bowed his shaved head.

  Ramsey reached out to stroke a hand over the broad chest, the musculature a wonder, impossibly hard for a human.

  “Your body feels almost as solid as vampiric flesh,” he murmured.

  Amon only grunted.

  “Julian, you did well,” he said. “I am pleased.”

  He saw Julian nod from the corner of his eye, then he retreated into the shadows of the dungeon. Ramsey turned his attention back to the hulking creature before him. He was naked, his cock already going hard. Even at half-mast it was as enormous as the rest of him, a gorgeous brown a few shades darker than the rest of his body.

  “Look at me,” he ordered. “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-nine, Sir.”

  “Ah, one of our last chance members.” No one over the age of thirty was ever accepted into the Midnight Playground clubs. “You are a new member of the club? I don’t believe I’ve seen you here before.”

  “Yes, Sir. I was accepted only yesterday.”

  “Hmm.” He dragged his fingertips over the strong collarbone, up the side of Amon’s thick, tempting neck, where his blood danced a steady cadence beneath the skin. “You are a most amazing specimen. Almost a shame to rip your fine flesh. Yet I may need to tonight. I find myself restless.”

  Because of Rogue. More than flesh. More than lust. More than a mere physical obsession, perhaps.

  No. Never again.

  “This is what I signed up for when I joined the club, Sir. I know the dangers in being with your kind. I can assure you this is what I crave. What I need.”

  “That is the answer I needed. Because even though all humans who enter the club have been informed of the dangers here, have signed the contracts, I always prefer to hear the words myself. And I will tell you, your unique physical power, your obvious strength, makes you even more desirable, and this evening therefore more dangerous for you.”

  He saw the need stark in Amon’s hazel eyes, sensed it coming off him in palpable waves.

  “I will trust you to challenge me in whatever way you see fit, Sir.”

  Ramsey nodded. “You understand there are no safe words here in this dungeon, as there may be at the places mortals frequent? That you are entirely at my mercy—if I have any. And if not, as well.”

  “I understand.”

  Ramsey raised an eyebrow.

  “Sir,” Amon added.

  “Are you two done negotiating?” came Rogue’s voice from behind him. “Because if you’re going to keep me chained here, helpless to participate, the least you can do is provide me with a good show.”

  Ramsey turned to him.

  “I will do so in my own time, Rogue. My time. And you will watch. You will suffer. Because you will love it. You will wish it were you under my hands. You will wish it was your hands on him. Won’t you?”

  Rogue groaned. “Yes,” he answered, his voice harsh. “You know I will. You really are a sadist, Ramsey.”

  “You know me already.”

  Ramsey laughed, but that was a bit too close to the truth—a truth he didn’t want to face, didn’t want to begin to believe. That somehow the young vampire did know him. That he struck some long-dead chord in him.

  Impossible.

  He distracted himself by pulling a black dragon’s tail whip from the selection of toys Julian had lined up on a leather table next to the cross on which Amon was mounted. He moved around behind him, ran a hand over the taut flesh of his bare back, over the heavy tribal designs tattooed there. He moved the flat of his palm up his spine, tuning in on his breathing. The big man didn’t even flinch when he wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and squeezed hard enough to hurt.

  Oh, he was going to be a pleasure to play. Easy enough to focus on this monster of a man, all gleaming muscle and the eagerness to be hurt.

 
He moved in behind him until his own shirtless body was pressed up against Amon. He’d always loved the feel of human skin, so very different from his own, from that of the other immortals. There was texture there, especially with someone as heavily inked as Amon—he could feel every stroke the needle had left in his flesh.

  Lovely.

  He inhaled, found a faint trace of fear beneath the stark desire. His cock twitched. Oh yes, fear was always intoxicating to him. He stepped away, pulled his arm back and struck.

  Amon hissed out a breath as the whip hit his upper back, leaving an angry red welt among the black ink.

  Ramsey moved back in, wrapped an arm around his waist and squeezed the rest of the breath from Amon’s big body, leaving him gasping.

  He whispered against his ear, “I’m going to hurt you rather badly.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Ask for it, Amon. Let me know your desires.”

  “I want it, Sir. I want you to beat me. Until I beg. Until I bleed for you. This is something I need. Need. Please.”

  “I can sense how much. There is some story behind this need, I think.”

  Amon swallowed. “Yes, Sir.”

  “I love stories. But we will save yours for another time. Until I drink your blood, perhaps. For now I will do my best to sate your desires, and mine.”

  Amon moaned softly.

  “Ah, yes, you were made for this,” Ramsey said, pleased.

  He moved back and struck, the whip make a hissing sound in the air. Amon didn’t move.

  “I know very well this is a high pain toy,” he said, “and yet you remain unmoved. I will have to do my worst. That will make you happy, will it not, Amon?”

  “Yes…”

  He looked at Rogue. His eyes were blazing.

  “It will make you happy, as well.”

  “Ah, you’re speaking to me again, are you?’

  “I will do more than speak to you,” he threatened. “I know perfectly well it would take more than a beating to put you in your place, young one.”

  “Fucking show me, then, Ramsey. Show me your strength, your wickedness. Make me hard for you once more. I dare you.”

  Ramsey let a small smile quirk one corner of his mouth before turning back to Amon. It took some effort to turn away from Rogue, but it satisfied him after that remark to give the bold young vampire his back.