Full Moon Dating Isaiah and Jameson

by Julia Talbot

“I am. Please.” He stroked the long, lean line of Isaiah’s chest and belly.

  Isaiah relaxed, melting against him with a sigh.

  He held his new lover closely, knowing Isaiah thought this was a one-time thing, but that they were meant to be together. This would be an exciting cat and mouse game.

  He intended to be together for an eternity. He had all the time in the world.

  Isaiah crept out of Jameson’s bed and headed to his quarters to bathe and think and worry…

  Mostly worry.

  Ninety percent was worry.

  What had he been thinking? Jameson had done such things to him, and he’d accepted them easily, gladly.

  Eagerly.

  Jameson was like a drug.

  A wild drug.

  One that he could so easily become addicted to. How was he going to resist such a beautiful man? Was it possible?

  He soaked in his huge tub, floating as he tried to release his stress. Isaiah stared at the ceiling. He wanted… Well, he wanted to go find Jameson, didn’t he? Maybe he should call his friend Harve and complain?

  He grabbed his phone and dialed Harve.

  I want Jameson.

  “Hello?” Harve sounded amused already. Evil man.

  “Who did you send me? He’s—” Amazing. I want him. “—maddening.”

  “I sent Jameson. I chose carefully, love.”

  “But…He doesn’t follow the rules.” And I need him. I need his touch, his cock, his teeth.

  “Well, you need someone as a companion, not an underling.” Harve’s voice was warm, easy. “Breathe, love. Go to him. You need to let your bond settle.”

  “Bond?”

  There was a bond? What did Harve even mean by that? He was so confused, even more so when the door to his bathing room opened, Jameson walking in to take the phone from his hand. “Hey, Harve. I got this. Uh-huh. Bye.”

  “You— How—” Beautiful. You’re beautiful. “You can’t be in here.”

  “Why not? You wanted me.” Jameson placed the phone aside, then came to sit on the edge of the tub. He trailed his hand in the water. “Mmm. Bubbles.”

  “I like baths. They’re soothing.” His body ached, just from that finger being so close.

  “I like baths too. Showers can be nice as well.” Jameson waggled both eyebrows at him. Silly.

  Jameson shouldn’t have been able to enter without his say so. Not at all. “I was just soaking.”

  Come in. Touch me. Please.

  “Soaking is good.” Jameson tugged off his loose shirt.

  “It is.” He couldn’t look away from the broad chest. Jameson was… well, he was every fantasy Isaiah had. Beautiful.

  “I’ll join you.” The soft pants went next, Jameson naked and natural.

  “Will you?” He couldn’t hide his moan, and he slid his hand under the bubbles to cup his cock.

  “Now, sweet. No touching unless I say. That’s mine. I want to bite it.”

  He froze, mouth falling open. The things Jameson said to him.

  Jameson slipped into the huge tub, turning the hot water on, and tugging him into the strong arms. “We need a bit more warmth with two of us, hmm? Cold natured beasts that we are.” That mouth landed on his.

  He felt hot-blooded, honestly. He felt as if he might burn alive. Isaiah found himself gripping Jameson’s shoulders, trying to climb into his lap. So much for not allowing this to happen again.

  Jameson’s hands landed on his ass, tugging him in close, dragging them together. Their skin slipped, the water easing the way, and Isaiah straddled Jameson’s thighs easily, spreading his legs so he could rub his cock and balls along Jameson’s body.

  “We shouldn’t.” But he wanted to. So badly.

  “Why not? We’re meant to be companions. Your family will believe I’m your consort, trust me.” Jameson nipped at his lower lip.

  “Are you not my consort?” He felt a bit dizzy with need.

  “I can be all sorts of things to you, sweet.” Jameson’s hand was the one on his cock now, and so much better to feel than his own.

  “Oh.” He blinked and huffed out a soft cry.

  “Yes. Lovely, lovely Isaiah.” Jameson touched him as if he were fragile but also unbreakable. He felt ten feet tall. The water lapped against the small of his back; the cool air above sensitizing every inch of skin.

  “This is what you really need, sweet. My touch. The way we come together. The rest is just politics.”

  Isaiah hummed softly. “What do you need?”

  “I need you. Touching and kissing and biting and letting me love you.”

  “Already? Just me?” How odd.

  “It’s called a bond.” Jameson licked a long line down his throat.

  “A bond…” He moaned and lifted his chin, the touch to his cock absolutely perfect.

  “Mmmhmm. We’ll talk on it later.” Sharp fangs slid along his skin.

  “Oh.” He arched up, a low cry filling the air.

  “Yes. We have far more important things to do now.” Jameson turned off the water. “Much better.”

  “You like it hot.” So did he. He slid deeper in the heat, submerging himself as best he could.

  “I do.” Jameson helped, moving down until they were neck deep.

  “Me too.” He was naked in his tub with another man. How wonderful. He’d thought to tell Jameson to leave and that seemed ridiculous now. This was his time.

  He let his eyelids droop, and he focused on the loose grip Jameson had on his prick, the slow waves of sensation crashing over him. There was nothing urgent here. Just pleasure, building gently in the steam.

  He had a thousand questions, but he was too languid to even form thoughts, much less verbalize them. Jameson kept touching him, long strokes from those clever fingers, which added to his lassitude.

  Thoughts of pleasure, of joy, of need seeped into his brain, filling him slowly. They were his, but they were also not. Jameson was somehow thinking into him.

  Instead of fighting it, he relaxed, curious to see what would happen.

  Happiness flooded him, and he moaned, his body arching as it filled every nerve ending in his body.

  “Oh, sweet boy.” Jameson’s words filled the air, making him shiver.

  “I haven’t been a boy in a long, long time.” He laughed, letting Jameson bounce him around in the water.

  “You’re my boy, dear one.” Jameson nibbled his shoulder.

  “Am I?” What did that even mean? It didn’t matter, not with the feel of what Jameson was doing sending shivers down his spine.

  Jameson cupped his balls, rolled them just a little too hard, the pressure making his toes curl.

  “More. Please.” He needed this, and he was astonished.

  “Oh, you need so beautifully.” Jameson pulled his sac, gathering the balls at the bottom, making him moan.

  Jameson took and gave and did crazy things to him. Isaiah had no idea how to return the favor. All he could do was feel.

  “Oh, sweet boy, I can feel your pleasure. It humbles me.”

  “You can feel me too.” Somehow that was terrifying and wonderful all in the same breath.

  “I can. It’s not as clear as I…” Jameson trailed off, and one fang pricked him, drawing blood.

  Jameson groaned and wrapped his lips around the spot, sucking and pulling.

  “Oh.” The sound came out hard, a puff of air that shocked him because he was normally so controlled.

  Yes. Jameson’s thought was like an arrow through him.

  His eyes flew open wide. That wasn’t a simple feeling. That was a thought, a word. So clear. I hear you!

  And I you. Listen, love. Open up and listen. There was so much Jameson wanted him to know. Words like mate and bond and his and some that were far more… physical.

  Isaiah panted, lips parted, the world spinning.

  Mine. Jameson squeezed his balls up against the base of his cock, then pulled, making him keen.

  Maybe.

  “Be goo
d.”

  That crazy-making push and pull happened again.

  “Good? What’s good?” He could barely get his lips and tongue to move. I need to know the rules.

  All you need to know is I make them, love.

  He shook his head, but he couldn’t speak. Jameson was making him crazed with need, his balls pulled up tight, his cock so hard. Just those simple touches… Not that there was anything simple about what was happening in his mind.

  This was a storm inside him, wild and overwhelming, but so necessary. He hadn’t known…

  “No, how could you?” Jameson flicked the tip of his cock, the thumb digging in against his slit.

  He arched and gasped, bucking hard up into that touch. Jameson was reading his deepest fantasies, all of his wishes. Goddess.

  “Pretty boy. I’ll keep you forever.”

  Forever was a long time. Nothing lasted forever. He knew that from experience. Nothing.

  Jameson bit his ear hard. Forever.

  “Please.” Isaiah wasn’t sure what he was asking, whether it was sexual or about the eternity Jameson was promising.

  It didn’t matter.

  None of it mattered.

  “This is all that matters right now.” Jameson slapped his cock, the water making it slow and almost languid.

  His eyes went wide and his fangs dropped. “Oh…”

  “So beautiful, love. I swear, you’re the picture of pure need.”

  He flushed with heat, a low cry escaping him. His cock ached, the need for more of the rough handling almost more than he could express.

  Jameson pressed him up out of the water, the smack to the tip of his cock drawing a cry.

  “Mmm.” Jameson had a running list of things he wanted to smack, and Isaiah heard all of them in his mind.

  The promises, the wild ideas made him want to bite. Hard. He snapped, in fact, and Jameson gave him a wild laugh.

  “I dare you, sweet.”

  He turned, pushing into Jameson’s body and striking, fangs sinking into the length of Jameson’s throat.

  Don’t let me hurt you.

  You can’t. I want all you can give me.

  He drank deep, his entire world going bright and sharp with Jameson’s blood. So much… energy. Turned vampires’ bodies seemed to work harder to stay alive, and Isaiah could taste it.

  I’ll have to feed you. Have to. Jameson sounded dazed.

  Yes, you will. I crave the taste of you.

  That’s not what he meant, but it was what he wanted. He wanted to share blood with Jameson, to nourish him. And he wanted to feel it, the pleasure, the pain.

  Jameson clutched at him, one hand still on his cock, the other under his ass holding him close.

  He licked and lapped, closing the wound, easing back.

  “Don’t run away.” Jameson rocked under him, water splashing.

  “I need. I need.” He thought hard about being trapped between Jameson’s cock and teeth.

  “Yes.” Jameson shoved him back until he banged against the side of the tub, lifting his hips and spreading his legs.

  He felt manhandled and exposed and he was hard as nails.

  Slamming between his legs, Jameson pressed the tip of that rigid cock against his hole, the water not easing the crazy scratch and scrape at all.

  “Please.” Fuck me. Bite me. Take me.

  Mine. The word echoed in his head when Jameson took him, cock pushing in and owning him.

  His eyes went wide, but all he could see was Jameson. Those dark eyes held him, not letting him hide as he was utterly possessed.

  Mine. Jameson insisted. Hear me. Mine.

  Yours. In this private place he could agree, even if he knew it wasn’t that simple.

  Yes! Jameson’s head dropped to his throat. Ask me.

  What?

  Ask for my teeth. My bite.

  Please. Yes, please. Your fangs.

  Jameson’s cry was wild, and the bite was deep, transporting Isaiah out of himself, making him part of something bigger, something melded with Jameson. He flailed for anything solid, but Jameson held him suspended.

  He wailed, filled and wild and desperate for a connection.

  Jameson really dug in, shaking him a little. Those lean hips rocked, Jameson slamming into him.

  “Help me!”

  Give yourself over, pretty one. Let your pleasure come, let go of control.

  No. His whole life had been control for decades. Maybe centuries.

  “I don’t know how!”

  Jameson pulled back, then struck again in a different spot, pulling blood from his body.

  His world was nothing but Jameson, but heat and blood and pleasure, and he sank into it with a soft moan, trusting that someone would have him.

  I will not let you fall, love. I swear it.

  “Love.” He arched, falling into Jameson’s hands.

  Jameson licked the spot closed, then laughed, the sound sheer joy.

  “Oh…” He melted, sighing as Jameson pounded into him. This felt so right, so perfect that he couldn’t bear it if Jameson stopped now.

  “Not stopping. Breathe, little love.”

  Breathe? They didn’t have to, did they? Maybe it was a yoga thing. Breathe in, then out.

  Jameson arched, sliding over a spot inside him that lit him up. He bit his lower lip, feeling more silky blood slide out across his chin.

  Jameson groaned, licking at him, wanting him. “Mine.”

  “I can’t be.” He was pulling closer, though, legs trying to grip, to wrap around Jameson’s waist.

  “You already are.”

  “More. Please, more.” He couldn’t worry about it now; all Isaiah could do was move and want and thirst.

  “Everything.” Jameson slammed in and took him. “All of me.”

  He nodded hard, his body so hot inside and out. This was supposed to be about politics, not the most amazing things he’d ever felt.

  He hadn’t expected anything real.

  You’re thinking too much. Jameson pinched his ass.

  He tightened his body, rolled his eyes and moaned. He wouldn’t last much longer. Not if Jameson kept that up.

  So of course, Jameson did. The pinches became sharp slaps that made his eyes roll up in his head. Jameson was just inflaming his every nerve.

  He rolled up, begging for more, his need exploding behind his eyes.

  Jameson climbed over him even higher, pressing down so there was more leverage, more friction.

  “Soon.” He wasn’t sure if he spoke aloud, but he wasn’t sure it mattered.

  “Yes. Soon.” Soon we’ll come. Then I’ll take you to bed and feed from your cock.

  Isaiah arched, his pleasure exploding behind his eyes. He tried to speak, but nothing came out, and he felt the pressure and depth of Jameson’s climax inside him.

  He floated, his entire body held by water and Jameson’s hands.

  My beautiful boy. The pride in those words made him smile faintly.

  He rested, eyes closed, He could stay here forever.

  Isaiah knew it wasn’t going to happen, but he could pretend. Just for a while.

  5

  Jameson checked his look, nodding. The suit was well-pressed, his shoes shiny enough they glowed. Isaiah had a great staff. He liked them a lot, which was good, since he would have to live with them, he supposed.

  Tonight he finally got to do what Isaiah had asked him there to do. He got to meet the fam. They were having a “do”.

  Isaiah was nervous. Was hiding in his rooms stressing his outfit, his jewelry, his hair.

  Jameson was tempted to storm over there and blister Isaiah’s ass before their first guests arrived. That would keep his love squirming all night. Off guard.

  He would watch how it went tonight to know how to handle the next get together. Jameson fully intended to be the one to plan such things, to let people know who Isaiah desired to have about and who he would see when politics demanded it.

  His lover craved his soli
tude, his hours in his books, his hours soaking in the tub.

  Jameson would happily be a buffer between Isaiah and the world.

  Especially when that meant his access to Isaiah was unimpeded. He loved that. He hoped Isaiah would come to love it too, if he didn’t already.

  He felt the gentle, barely there touch to his mind. Yes, love? Did you need me?

  Isaiah never wanted to bother him, but they had a bond for a reason.

  Are you dressed? Go show me in the mirror?

  Oh, now he had to pass muster? He grinned. That was okay. He knew he looked good. He went to show Isaiah what he was wearing.

  He looked handsome, sexual, dark and sensual. Like a predator.

  I approve. Isaiah sounded admiring.

  Can I see you?

  No.

  Why not? That would never do. Jameson headed for the private wing.

  I’ll be out later. Stubborn boy.

  No, you’ll let me see you now. Spanking was so on the menu. Someone was letting his nerves overwhelm him.

  I’m the boss here! Oh, someone was scared.

  Isaiah was the boss, but Jameson was the boss’s consort. He could make the rules in private.

  The huge door to Isaiah’s quarters was shut, closed to anyone, any outsiders. He was far from that now, and it yielded to him, as did Diego once he saw who was coming through the door.

  “Good evening, sir. The first guests will arrive in half an hour. I will knock in an hour.”

  “Thank you, buddy.” He gave Diego a thumbs up.

  Diego winked at him. “I think he looks best in the dark gray turtleneck.”

  “Ah. Still not dressed.” Now he knew why he hadn’t been allowed to see.

  “He’s on outfit eight. The closet looks like a hurricane hit it.”

  “I’ll help.” He winked before straightening up to stride in to rescue his boy.

  A pair of pants went flying across the room, narrowly missing him.

  “Well, then. Nothing suits, hmm?” He leaned on the doorframe, arms crossed.

  “You’re not allowed here. You know that, right? Not. Allowed!”

  “Are you shouting at me?” He kept his voice calm, curious.

  “Yes? I’m the head of this family. I’m allowed to shout.”

  “You are.” He waited. Isaiah would come to him. Would ask for what he needed.