Fangs with a Heart

by Tempeste O'Riley

  “I love you too, Trace.” Sasha ran his fingers through Trace’s hair a few times, the touch as soothing as it was inflaming. “Will you give yourself to me now?”

  “Yes. I already gave you the mating bite. Now I want… I want to give you me.”

  Sasha stepped back. “Then strip and lie on the blanket facedown.”

  Trace stood and quickly divested himself of his clothing, pausing when he went to slip off his boxer briefs to watch Sasha remove his clothes. All that pale olive skin coming into view took his breath away, as did seeing the defined muscles of Sasha’s pecs and abs. He wanted to spend hours licking every inch of his mate. When Sasha removed his slacks, taking his underclothes with them, his long, thick cock bounced up and smacked his belly, leaving a wet spot. Trace wanted to taste so badly he mewed.

  Sasha gazed up at him and smirked. “I meant all of it, Trace. Hurry up. Naked and on the blanket.”

  Losing the last bit of clothing and lying down on his already painfully hard dick wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, but he did as commanded, hoping Sasha would hurry.

  “Lube?”

  “Basket.”

  He watched Sasha reach into the basket and retrieve the lube, his cock bobbing with each motion. Then he was back. He slipped his arms around Trace, pressing his chest to Trace’s back, rubbing his body against Trace, amping Trace’s need higher. Trace turned his head and parted his lips in invitation. Sasha pressed his lips to Trace’s, delving as deep as the odd angle would allow. It wasn’t graceful, but it was hot, and with Sasha grinding against him at the same time, he had Trace ready to come already.

  Sasha pulled back and trailed kisses down Trace’s neck, then his shoulder and along his spine. Sasha slid his way down Trace’s back, trailing licks and kisses as he went. When he reached the small of Trace’s back, he pulled away slightly but then began to run his hands up and down Trace’s sides and ass, pulling Trace’s cheeks apart on every other pass.

  Eventually Sasha stopped as he held Trace’s cheeks apart and blew cool air across Trace’s hole before licking from balls to the top of his crack. He did that a few times before he focused in on licking and nibbling along Trace’s taint, lightly scoring it with his fang. When the wet heat returned to focus on his hole, Trace mewled and scrabbled his hands in the blanket, no longer able to control his body or his sounds. He’d tried to be good, but it felt too… he couldn’t think of a good word with Sasha touching him… to be still and quiet.

  “Love your sounds, mal’chik. Want to hear you.” Sasha returned to his sensual torture, licking and stabbing with his tongue around and into Trace’s hole, using his fingers—or so he assumed—to pull him apart more and delve deeper.

  “Oh, um, Goddess! Sasha, Sir… can’t… gonna… stop, please…. Cherry!”

  Sasha froze, then moved away, leaving Trace panting and trembling on the blanket, overheated yet suddenly cold. He immediately appeared at Trace’s side, petting his head, and asked softly, “Mal’chik, what’s wrong, love? Are you hurt?”

  “N-no. I was going to come if you didn’t stop. I want you to penetrate me, not to just get me off like you always did before. Please.”

  “Oh, Trace.” Sasha continued his petting, his voice still soft, though it now carried a wry edge. “I wasn’t going to quit because you came. You will be more relaxed and looser if you’re not so ramped up, though.”

  “Oh. Um, sorry?”

  “Do you really want me to stop, or should that have been more of a lemon kind of thing?”

  Trace knew he was bright red but nodded anyway. “Sorry? Please don’t leave or stop.” Please don’t be disappointed in me!

  Sasha bent down and took Trace’s lips in a kiss that began gentle, teasing his lips open, light touches to his tongue as if saying hello, before taking over and turning Trace’s insides to mush. By the time Sasha pulled back, all he could think was more and want.

  Sasha moved back behind Trace again, this time trailing his nails up and down Trace’s back. The pressure was not enough to hurt, but the light sting quickly brought him back to the needy edge he’d been skating on. He couldn’t believe Sasha wanted to touch his back, the scars there—and they were still there, though slightly lessened. Still, the fact Sasha was kissing and touching them diminished the ghosts attached to them.

  The sharp sting to his asscheek brought his focus back to Sasha and what was happening now. “What?”

  “I told you I don’t share. I’m the only one here with you.”

  “Yes, Sir. It’s the scars on my back. The touching and scratching… feels like you’re making them yours somehow.”

  “They are mine, mal’chik.” Sasha scratched across Trace’s back, digging in harder, the sting bordering on pain before he drew back and Trace heard the pop of the lube bottle. A moment later the cool liquid hit his oversensitized hole. Sasha used one finger to push inside, the breach startling in its abruptness. “So hot, Gods, but you feel so good. So tight. Damn, but you’re going to feel so perfect wrapped around me, love….” As Sasha continued his litany of dirty words and praise, he added more fingers to his thrusts and twists. He returned his other hand to Trace’s back, again digging into the flesh there, claiming the scars. “These are my marks on you. My markings, mal’chik. Every part of you is mine.”

  “Please, Sir. You, not your fingers. I need you.”

  “You’ll have me. I promise.”

  He shook with anticipation. When Sasha nudged his opening, Trace tensed, the ghosts of his past pressing in on him, but Sasha wasn’t Ford!

  “It’s me, mal’chik. Let me in, love.”

  Sasha. It was Sasha, and he would never abuse Trace. Trace knew that!

  As Sasha slipped inside Trace, Trace stretched damn near to the limit. Sasha was big. He knew that already, but it felt as though he’d gotten even bigger somehow. Sasha pressed in farther, and Trace couldn’t hold in the words any longer. “Fuckin’ hell! You’re going to split me in two.”

  Sasha stopped moving.

  “Don’t you stop. Please don’t stop,” Trace begged.

  “Never want to hurt you the wrong way, Trace.” Sasha moved again until he pressed his hips against Sasha’s butt. He then stretched out over Trace, his lesser weight wonderful as he sandwiched Trace between himself and the ground.

  “Oh Goddess,” Trace groaned. His trapped cock throbbed, but even that only added to the moment. He was glad Sasha had chosen not to make him come first after all.

  He clenched around Sasha, loving how Sasha gasped and trembled slightly. Sasha pulled almost all the way out before slowly sliding back in. The shudder that went through Trace made Sasha chuckle.

  “Like that, huh?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good. Me too.”

  Sasha set a slow pace, driving Trace insane. He touched and kissed and licked Trace as he leisurely fucked him, never speeding up or letting Trace move. A nonstop plethora of mewls, whines, and pleading came from Trace, but Sasha ignored him, seeming to not be in any hurry to finish. Trace, on the other hand, was a trembling mess.

  “Oh my Gods, please, Sir. Please… I need….”

  “You do beg so pretty.” Sasha pulled Trace up to his hands and knees, never pulling out. He then wrapped his hand around Trace’s cock and stroked base to tip with sure, steady strokes, just how he liked it. It only took a moment or two before Trace shook so hard he collapsed to his forearms. “Come for me, mal’chik. Give me your pleasure.”

  White-hot light shot up and down his spine, then from his spine to his balls, the pressure building until the demand from Sasha and his own body combined to tip him over the edge. Bliss shot out his cock even as sound blasted from his very core. Sasha sped up his thrusts but never stopped, drawing every tremor, every shot, every overwhelming moment of perfection out until Trace could only feel—nothing but Sasha existed.

  “That’s it,” Sasha whispered, and Trace felt him kiss his shoulder as he slowly pulled out of his body.


  “No, you….”

  “Shh… I’m not done with you, love.”

  Sasha rolled Trace over onto his back, then carefully slipped back inside his now-hyperaware yet sated body. They both shuddered when Sasha was fully seated this time, and Sasha smiled down at Trace, his fangs descended.

  Trace licked his lips as he focused on Sasha’s fangs, then tipped his head to the side to bare his neck fully.

  “By all the Gods, you are beyond perfect, mal’chik.”

  Sasha bent Trace in half as he set a pounding rhythm, driving into Trace. He dipped his head and took Trace’s mouth, delving deep, letting his fang nick Trace’s lip as they kissed. Trace wanted to show Sasha just how much he accepted the vampire, the fact Sasha was a vampire, so when he pulled back at one point, Trace curled up enough to press his lips to Sasha’s, then flicked his tongue out to first touch and then trail up one fang. Sasha moaned and thrust harder, digging his fingers into Trace’s hips hard enough that he knew, even with his healing being as good as it was, he’d have lingering bruising—and he relished the thought.

  When Sasha shifted position again, he hit Trace’s special spot, making him yell. With a decidedly wicked grin, Sasha continued to pound that spot until the pressure overwhelmed Trace. The jolt of pleasure shot through him only a moment before Sasha plunged his fangs into his throat, making him come completely apart. He cried, whimpered, and mewled so loudly he could probably be heard all the way back to the main compound, but he couldn’t be made to care right then. The sweetness of joining with Sasha drowned out his past, his fears, everything. In that moment they were all there was.

  Eventually they managed to pull apart and clean up. They even ate the picnic Trace had packed in the basket—there was more than lube in the basket, after all. They didn’t return to the main compound of the tribe land and then to the covenstead until almost morning.

  What awaited them couldn’t even take the bliss from Trace.

  “Prince Sasha,” Jalin said once they were inside the mansion. “Princess Tatiana’s mother has arrived.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “PREPARATIONS ARE ready, but are you, Tatiana?” Sasha asked as he, Trace, and Tatiana sat in her receiving room. “You don’t have to do it this way. You can stay here indefinitely under our protection. You know that.”

  “I do know that, my prince, my friend, but this is how I want things. I do not wish to be connected to that coven or to that lineage any longer. You of all people know of the cruelty and crimes common among my so-called family and of what my father has done to me.” She whispered the last as she laid her hands over her abdomen. “The only one I will miss of my blood is my mother, but that cannot be helped.”

  “Then I welcome you with open arms.”

  “As do I,” Trace added. “I have also spoken with Alpha Keith and his mate, Jason. They welcome you as well as long as you will abide by Sasha’s laws. You will get to meet them both soon.”

  Sasha turned to look at his beloved and smiled, proud of how far he’d come in such a short time.

  “Ever the diplomat, kind shifter.” Tatiana smiled. “I have no problem following his rules.” She paused and looked around. They were alone—she had sent even her loyal servants away. “My child’s father was human, so I do not behave as the rest of them do. There are others who are like me, my servants, and those I keep as part of my regular entourage. I have always been high maintenance for a reason. I demand to pick who I wish to have close and drive out those who do not align with my views. Still, they do not know what I’m to do shortly, not exactly, so how they react to the news should tell me quickly if I have any routing I need to do.”

  “I will notify Jalin so he can have them watched for that reason as well. Just to make sure, as we do not want any close to you to be loyal to those you are leaving.”

  “No. And thank you. Thank you both for this. My child needs to grow up in a place where safety and peace are not only allowed, but encouraged.”

  Trace cocked his head as he blinked, then stared at her a moment. “Tatiana? When Vlad first brought you, I hated you on principle. Now I am so thankful because that same arrival means we can offer you the sanctuary and time to heal you need that was once given to me. If you require anything, please let me know. But for now—” He looked at his watch and frowned. “If you are really going to do this, we need to go. It’s time.”

  SASHA SAT on his royal chair he still refused to call a throne—even though that’s what Trace insisted upon calling it—with Trace in his similar one beside him. The higher-ranking members of the coven were gathered, but unlike usual, the rest of the coven had been invited, and they had opened up the gallery for them. Part of the walls could slide out and down to overlap to allow more to witness the goings-on when deemed appropriate. Such as now.

  “Princess Tatiana, please come forth,” Sasha called, his voice ringing throughout the gathered court. He deliberately did not glance at her mother, who was in attendance. Sasha wasn’t certain having her there was necessary, but Tatiana said it would have more impact on his people to see the visual separation and joining, so he allowed it. He still worried about how it would affect the female. She had just lost a son and now was losing a daughter. This had to be…. He didn’t have the word, even in his thoughts.

  Princess Tatiana entered the room from the other end clad in nothing but the underdress she would normally never allow any to see her in, other than her servants—the ones helping her dress—or a bed partner helping her out of it in the midst of passion. Over it she wore a rich bloodred cloak that lightly brushed the ground, with a hood that covered her lustrous hair. It was held closed at the throat with the crest of her birth house. She wore no shoes or jewelry other than her family signet ring.

  Slowly she approached Sasha and Trace until she reached the agreed-upon stopping point, then waited.

  “You have come to us and requested not only sanctuary, but have chosen to forsake your birth coven and status. You have asked to become my little sister, my ward. And that your offspring be considered part of my house, though not in line to rule. Is this true and of your own free will?”

  She looked up and met his gaze, a fierceness there he’d never seen before. “I have and do, my liege. I pledge my life and what will become my line to you, your house, and your line. You have always been my friend. Let me now be like a little sister to you. I know I can never replace the one you lost, but a family can have more than one of each.”

  “Nadia always loved you, you know. She would be pleased to know you are one of us now, my sweet. Remove the last of that which was born to you but that is not of your heart, and come to me.”

  Tatiana pulled off the ring and dropped it where she stood, then unclasped the cloak. It slithered to the floor, revealing the shift she wore.

  She stepped forward, but before she could reach Sasha, her mother jumped up and cried, “Tatiana, don’t do this! Please, child. I beg you. Your father won’t forgive this. I can’t lose you too.”

  Tatiana turned and looked at her mother, tears clinging to her lashes. “You sat back as he beat me. As he murdered my lover. As he belittled and tortured me for no other reason than the fact I was born female. But you wish me to return to him because you don’t want to lose me? You lost me long ago, Mother. I’m sorry, but Sasha and Trace are my family now. They love and accept me and my child for who and what we are. Go home to your monster, if that is your wish, or fall on Prince Tolstoi’s mercy and ask for asylum and see if he will help you find a place away from the monster you married. Royal Consort Trace might even speak on your behalf, as he has a weakness for battered spouses. For now I have an oath to make and a family to complete.”

  With that Tatiana turned away from her mother and stepped toward Sasha, only stopping when she was directly in front of him. She then took a knee. He held out his right hand and placed it on her head. Trace stood and moved close enough that he could do the same. “This is your wish?” they asked in unison.

>   “Aleksandr Tolstoi, Royal Prince of the Konstantin Coven. Royal Consort Trace Wilson Tolstoi. Please accept this most humble servant into your home and into your lives.”

  “Arise, Princess Tatiana Tolstoi, and greet your people. They are eager to meet their new princess.”

  As soon as she stood, Sasha draped a new cloak—this one a light jade trimmed in silver, the clasp Sasha’s coven crest—around her. Trace knelt and helped her into a pair of matching slippers. Before she could move away from them and out to the crowd as planned, a commotion started by one of the doors. A moment later Jason stepped through with Keith stopping at the doorway, which he took up most of, him being in his Chosen of Baast form.

  “Prince Tolstoi, P-Princess Tolstoi, my apologies for being late. I have a g-gift for the new princess, if that is allowed,” Jason said. Sasha was impressed he managed to get all that out in such a public venue with so little stuttering.

  Tatiana looked at Sasha, a question clear in her eyes. She hadn’t been formally introduced to Jason, though she knew a great deal about him. “Of course. You’re family, hon.”

  He approached, a medium-sized pale blue silk-wrapped box in his hands. “The Glacier R-Rim Tribe would like to welcome the n-newest member of the Tolstoi f-family,” Jason said as he held out the box to Tatiana.

  “Thank you, Master Jason. And thank you, Alpha Keith,” she added, nodding in his direction.

  Keith took a step forward, his voice a deep, resonating growl in this form. “As you are truly a Tolstoi now, we welcome you. This gift is one of welcome and hope between us. It was Jason’s idea and design, though he had to have help with the execution—he’s an IT geek, not a woodsmith. We hope it pleases you.”