None of those things happened. Instead, Master patted him, like he was a small boy, then helped him back to his feet. Before Jase could register what was happening, he found himself sitting on Master’s lap. Now the bulge that he’d spied pressed against him. It was hard, even through the jeans. It pulsed.
“Sorry about that.” Master shifted Jase so that he sat more on his rigid thigh. “Pay no attention to what my dumb body is doing.” His arms hung loosely around Jase for only a moment before Master moved them to the chair arms.
Stunned and confused, Jase did the only thing he could think of. He relaxed against the broad chest, tucking his head under the man’s chin. He could hear the quick thud of Master’s heart. It matched his own fluttering beat, although stronger in some way. It was oddly comforting. This alien monster was not so different than he was. Unlike what the legends of vampires said, he wasn’t undead. He was very much alive and affected by Jase’s proximity. Why then was he not feeding Jase his cock or shoving it inside him? That was what Jase was for, after all.
“I think I need to be clearer about why you’re here.” Once again, Jase wondered if Master could read his mind. “You are not my slave, sex or otherwise. You don’t have to kneel before me, you do not need to give me blow jobs and I’m not going to fuck you. That is not what this is about. Do you understand, Jase?”
He started to nod yes then changed his mind. In this case, he believed that an honest answer was expected of him. “No, Master Emil, I’m sorry but I don’t.”
The chest he lay against rose and fell on a deep breath followed by an audible sigh that ruffled his hair. “Okay. Let me see if I can explain. I’m not very good with words. I don’t have Alex’s silver tongue, that’s for sure.”
Master ran his hand lightly down Jase’s back. It made him shiver in a delightful way. “So much pain.” He began rubbing with slow circles. “I look at you and I see the scars and the welts and bruises that haven’t yet healed from whatever Washburn did to you before he died. And I know there is more, things from the past that have already healed. Worse, there are wounds inside you, physically and emotionally, that I can’t see at all. It breaks my heart.”
The man’s tone was so sincere that Jase believed him. Touched, he snuggled closer to show that he appreciated the concern and wasn’t afraid—well, not too much anyway—to be his slave. The back rub was soothing, as well. It was not so different that the ones his mother had given him long ago when he’d been a little boy and fretting over some imaginary fear. Those days seemed like a lifetime ago, and something that had happened to someone else. How naïve he’d been back then, worrying about monsters that didn’t exist when the world was filled with real ones that had been beyond his imagination at the time.
“You’re here with me,” Master continued, “because once Washburn brought you into our orbit, we had a responsibility to protect you. We failed. And, for that, I can’t apologize enough.”
The words confused Jase. Masters never said they were sorry. That was a sentiment reserved for slaves. He had no idea where this was going.
Master sighed again. “So, with Washburn gone, we owe it to you to get you back on your feet, to make sure you can take care of yourself. I’m the best choice to do that. Alex and Val have Quinn and Mackie to worry about, and Harry has his family. All I have is the kitchen, and maybe Logan, although she would likely punch me for the suggestion,” he added with a little chuckle. “It’s my job to help you figure out what you want and make sure you get it. Understand?”
Jase shook his head. He didn’t. Not really. And that word ‘job’ made him inexplicitly sad. Master didn’t desire him? That wasn’t the case. It was obvious that he did. Jase could feel how much.
“I’m sorry, Master Emil. I don’t understand.” He wiggled his ass. The hard length of Master’s dick pressed against the back of his thigh. “You want me,” he dared to say in a near whisper.
Master surprised him by pecking a kiss on the top of his head, then chuckling. “Of course I do. You’re beautiful and sweet. How could I possibly resist you? I may be stronger than the average human, but I am no better at controlling my baser instincts. My dick has no scruples. Fortunately, I run the show, not it. There will be no sex, Jase. It’s important that you believe me about that. You’ve been forced too much in your young life, in any life. Rape isn’t something that my species does, and it is one of the most appalling aspects of human behavior.”
He paused, and Jase could sense him tensing. “That’s not entirely true. There are those of my people who have adopted the worst of what humans do to each other. I can’t deny that, and while you don’t need the details, I have to admit that not everyone who survived my ship’s crashing has stayed faithful to our beliefs. Those of us loyal to Alex take pride in not having succumbed to that temptation. We’ve made it our new lives’ work to combat it, in fact. I will not abuse you. I’d rather die than do so.”
“I believe you.” Jase said the words because he meant them and because he thought Master needed to hear them. He also dared to ask the one question that sat on his tongue demanding to get out. “What about blood? I thought you needed it.”
“Need is a stronger way of describing it than is reality. We can live without it for a very long time, although we are miserable doing so. I get mine from a blood bank. I don’t need yours, and taking it without consent is anathema to my family, as well.”
Jase swallowed hard past a lump of fear forming in his throat. He couldn’t believe he was going to say this. “I will give it to you, if you want, Master Emil.”
“Oh, baby.” Master pulled him closer and kissed the top of his head again. “Such a sweet offer, and I have no doubt you mean it. The trouble is, you’ve been programmed to give a man what he wants, even to your own detriment. I can’t accept your offer, not now. And later, when you’re back in complete control of your life, you’ll probably regret ever making it. Humans have a primal fear about blood sucking.”
Jase frowned. He didn’t like the idea that his thoughts weren’t being taken seriously. Then he remembered that his didn’t count for anything. That part of his life hadn’t changed. Still, he found the strength to persist. “Quinn and Mackie allow it, don’t they?”
“Sure, but that’s different. Mackie likes it as part of his role as a submissive and Quinn gave it as a gift to someone he loved. I doubt it was easy for either of them to do. In any event, you and I aren’t like those couples. You didn’t choose me.”
I might have. His surprising and stray thought didn’t have time to gain traction.
Master’s back rubbing continued. “That’s enough questions and answers for now. You’ve had a long day and I bet you’re still suffering a deficit in your sleep. Relax. I’ve got you. You’re safe with me.”
Between his real tiredness and the soothing nature of Master’s touch, Jase had no trouble following that order. Closing his eyes, he gave in to the pull and drifted off in the security of a monster’s arms.
* * * *
“Thanks.” Emil whispered his appreciation to Harry as he closed the bedroom door.
A quick glance toward the bed confirmed that Jase still slept soundly. Emil had waited until the boy had been asleep for a good ten minutes before lifting him off his lap and tucking him in among the covers. If it had been all about what Emil wanted, he would have stayed sitting in that chair the whole night. Nothing had ever felt so wonderfully right to him as cradling the human in his arms, rubbing slow circles up and down his battered back did. The mere fact that the boy had been relaxed enough to fall asleep was gratifying. It gave Emil hope that recovery from his years of abuse was possible. All Emil had to do was keep his own traitorous body on lockdown.
Easier said than done. The talk of blood had raised a thirst that he couldn’t ignore. And the proximity of Jase’s tempting ass had caused Emil’s dick to become engorged. No amount of time or chastisement was having any effect. With Jase safely down for hopefully the whole night, he’d decided that h
e needed to take care of both needs before morning came. The problem was that each time he’d tried to step out of the room, some internal alarm forced him back. He didn’t want to leave the boy alone was the bottom line.
So, warm blood bag in hand, he headed for the bathroom. He tilted the door shut so that if Jase needed him, there would be no chance he’d miss it. He kept the light on, as well, knowing that humans feared nothing as much as they did the dark. Their puny eyesight and diurnal natures made it scary, and that was the last thing he wanted for the boy.
Popping the seal on the bag, he began to tug down long gulps of the salty treat. Harry had been a dear in warming it for him. As he sucked, he unsnapped his jeans, then lowered the zipper. The relief of freeing his dick was intense. He bit back a groan, determined to be silent in his private effort to meet his needs. The toilet was the only place to sit, and that didn’t appeal. He pressed against the wall and slid down until his butt hit the tiles. He grabbed his cock on the way with a death grip.
It wasn’t very comfortable, but that was hardly the point. This was all about satisfying the primitive within him. His body craved blood, and if it wasn’t the type he wanted, tough shit. His balls required emptying and, again, where he wanted to deposit his seed was irrelevant. He couldn’t help Jase if he was constantly flaunting his hard-on and bloodlust in front of the boy.
That would not do.
But he was only human, in a manner of speaking. His species was more evolved than that one, yet not by much. He succumbed to many of the same weaknesses, sex and hunger being two of them. And he was no saint, either. While his intellect and sense of morality told him he should make his mind blank as he drank his blood and worked his shaft, he lacked the strength of mind or character to do that. Instead, he cast his memory back to less than an hour ago when Jase’s small, cute ass had pressed against his groin. He recalled the sweet scent of shampoo, minty toothpaste and lavender deodorant. Humans were oddly worried about smelling bad. At that moment, though, he appreciated it. Part of the delightful way he thought of the boy included the odors he carried.
His dick jumped in his clasp and his balls tingled. He worked the part underneath the glans that held the sensitive bundle of nerves. His breath hitched, making him choke slightly on his blood. With long practice, he synced up the rhythm of his sucking and jerking. The salty hit in the back of his throat mirrored the pulse of pleasure working his shaft. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his growing climax along with the way the blood slid down his throat.
He imagined that his lips weren’t wrapped around a piece of plastic but were sealed against skin. His fangs punched down as if piercing flesh. He drew in a long, hard pull. With his fingers clenched tightly around his shaft, he rolled his hips to fuck them. In his mind, he pushed into Jase’s ass. Not the real boy, someone different—a human who gave himself freely, who looked at him with adoring eyes and urged him to thrust faster and deeper. Emil groaned at the thought.
“Master…”
Yes, someone who called him that because he wanted to. A whispered entreaty born from love and not fear.
“Master…”
The word rang in his ears, and he pumped his fist with desperate urgency. His fingers were too hard and dry. He needed soft and wet, with a welcoming heat. He sucked his bag of blood with an unquenchable thirst, as if he’d been starved for years. It wasn’t going to be enough. It never was.
A tentative touch to his balls made him jerk. His movement fumbled as his eyes flew open. Jase kneeled beside him. He’d reached over and cupped Emil. The boy did nothing more than that, merely sat and waited for something. Permission, maybe, to continue—or chastisement to go back to bed.
The word ‘master’ hadn’t been inside Emil’s head. He realized the boy must have been calling to him. Shit. So much for being quiet and circumspect. The former slave must have developed a sixth sense about a man needing him. Or perhaps Emil had been shouting the house down without realizing it. Regardless, he needed to stop, put the blood bag down, let go of his aching dick and put that poor kid back under the covers—without sliding in with him and finishing his fantasy for real.
He couldn’t do it. To his utter shame, he lacked the strength to do the right thing. Instead, he started again. This time, he kept his eyes open, staring at Jase’s bowed head, savoring the simple pleasure of the boy’s fingers caressing his balls. The tension in him mounted quickly. Then Jase looked up and his pretty blues eyes stared straight into Emil’s undoubtedly black ones. He came with a force that had him doubling over. The bag dropped from his nerveless fingers, as cum pumped over his fingers.
A drop of blood slipped past his lips and he watched it as if in slow-motion, hitting the stretch of skin between Jase’s forefinger and thumb. Letting go of his dick, Emil grabbed the boy’s hand and enveloped the fold with his lips. He sucked as if he pulled on a vein. The small bit of blood he ingested was nothing compared to the pleasure of simply tasting the human’s flesh. Emil was careful to keep his fangs retracted. It nearly killed him, but he wasn’t going to go back on his promise and drink without free permission. He’d already sinned by taking advantage of Jase’s belief that he had to help Emil’s jerk-off session.
He kept sucking until the last of his orgasm subsided. Then, with a shaky hand, he let go of the boy and sat back. He was about to apologize in the most groveling way he could manage when Jase surprised him by first looking at his hand then licking it. Emil suddenly realized that he’d transferred some of his cum onto the boy.
Jase smacked his lips. “It tastes like a human’s except a little spicier. It’s nice,” he added with a sheepish grin.
The observation sent another pulse through Emil’s cock. A last bit of cum dribbled out. He worked to regain his breath and his voice. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I sleep lightly.” The confession was painful to hear because of the implication that a sex slave would have to for survival.
“You didn’t have to help me. It’s important for you to know that. I can’t assure you this won’t happen again. I don’t want you to think I’m going back on my promise.”
Jase peeked at him from under his lashes. “Is it okay that I did, Master?”
Emil didn’t bother to correct him. What was the point, given that he clearly enjoyed being called that by this boy? “Yes. Everything you do is fine. Don’t worry about displeasing me. It’s impossible for you to do so.” Because the sight of Jase demurely kneeling beside him gave him too many bad ideas, he looked away. “Go back to bed.”
Jase didn’t hesitate to comply. He rose with a grace that Emil couldn’t ignore. It made the boy more appealing than ever. Emil briefly considered that he should offer a reciprocal hand job, except Jase’s lovely, slender cock hung flaccidly between his legs. The fact that the boy wasn’t aroused emphasized that helping Emil had been a chore, not a pleasure. Guilt swamped him.
“Thank you,” he called out before Jase had reached the doorway. It sounded stupid and entirely insufficient under the circumstances.
Pausing, Jase peered over his shoulder. His naked beauty was breathtaking. “You’re welcome, Master.”
The boy sounded as if he really meant it, which made him more dangerous to Emil than ever.
* * * *
Wales, Dracul’s Castle
“Well?” Dracul punctuated his impatient demand by thrusting viciously into his new slut. He had the boy bent over the end of the bed, inconvenienced by the doctor’s examination of Dafydd’s disgustingly swollen belly. He turned away from the unsightly bulge. Pregnancy did nothing for the boy’s looks, his whole body distorted and his face mottled. Dracul preferred the sleek, tight one he currently gripped far better.
Drogo straightened from his examination, covering Dafydd with a sheet. The tiresome man was always doing stupid things like that. As if Dracul didn’t have the right to see every inch of the human’s body. But for his medical skills, Dracul would have purged the irksome drone from his ranks.
“All is well with your son, sir. A few more weeks, two months at the outside, and he will be ready to be birthed. I would recommend,” he added with a slight frown, “that your consort drinks more blood. Soon he will lose a great deal of his own when I cut the boy from him.”
As if Dracul cared about Dafydd’s health. His life was over the moment the baby left him. It was merely a matter of how much Dracul wanted to participate. Exsanguination from the birth would be, at worst, a waste of a tasty meal.
He snapped his hips to shove his dick deep inside his new slut’s resistant channel. Breaking in a virgin continued to delight him. While the human had ceased to fight him actively, his pathetic, yet pretty body waged its own war. It still took effort to invade it. The grip was delicious. He groaned with the pleasure and dug his fingers into the spare flesh.
“Do what you must to keep my son healthy,” he said with a dismissive toss of his head.
Drogo stepped back with an obsequious bow. No longer restricted by the doctor’s needs, Dracul refocused on his own. He pulled out his dick and slapped the boy’s flank. “Crawl up.”
He delighted in the human’s obvious difficulty in doing so. The moment he’d landed fully prone on the covers, Dracul launched himself as well. He had his half-hard dick buried once more into the small ass within seconds. He smiled at the boy’s whimper. He covered the smaller frame with his much larger one, taking his own weight on his arms only to keep from smothering the weak creature. He was enjoying him too much to waste and intended to stay cocooned inside the wet heat for the rest of the day.
As Drogo rushed out of the room, Petru passed him. “Your pardon, sir. Marius has called in with a live feed he wants you to watch.” He handed over a tablet.
Slave Dance Page 13
