by Julia Talbot
“Jameson…”
“No. I need you.”
Isaiah sighed, but wrapped around him, surrounding him with that sweet energy.
Emotions stirred deep in him, surprising him when tears stung his eyes. Had to be the drugs.
“Shh… I won’t ever let him hurt you again.”
“No. I believe you. You’re amazing, love.”
Isaiah shook his head, pulling Jameson’s mouth into his throat.
Jameson moaned. He would make sure Isaiah fed as well, but right now that blood would heal him. Make him strong again. He bit down, the flood making him dance and jerk.
The lifeforce made him ache, and he pulled harder. His limbs filled with warmth, his fingers and toes tingling. The pain backed away, and the ache left behind was rich, delicious.
His cock stirred, which told him more than anything how well his mate’s blood suited him, was made to heal him.
It made his world wild and right.
Love. Oh, love, how dare you leave me alone so long?
I don’t want to hurt you.
You can only hurt me by pushing me away. We’re mates forever.
“Miss you.” Isaiah hummed deep in his chest. “Rest.”
I will. Stay. He slipped free of Isaiah’s flesh, his fangs aching with pleasure. His body was happy, but not up to much.
“Sleep. You rest. Things will be easier tomorrow.”
“Don’ make me hunt you.” Isaiah kept sounding as if he were saying goodbye.
“Sleep, Jameson. Now.”
The command really pissed him off, but only for a second.
After that he was asleep.
Isaiah watched Jameson sleep all night, sitting in his chair, a book unread in his hand.
He was weak, but he couldn’t resist Jameson’s call. Still, he would not sleep in the bed. He would keep his distance. He would avoid contact.
Jameson was right, after all. They were mates. Still, he could weaken the bond until it broke, then send Jameson away.
He could do it for his lover.
A soft knock at the door had him springing to his feet, his fangs bared as he prepared for an attack.
He slapped his hand over his mouth. He was a monster. “Who is it?”
“Auntie Jo, lovely boy. I need to see you.”
“Oh, Auntie…” He opened the door and slipped out, grateful that he was dressed.
She immediately enveloped him in a hug that smelled like roses and paper and ink. “Hello, sweet.”
“Auntie…I’ve made a terrible mistake.”
“How?” She took his hand, leading him to his sitting room.
“I need—I’m insane for him. When Damian tried to hurt him…”
“Oh, my darling. I know you think it was just for your new love, but you must understand. Damian challenged your right as the head of this clan.” She sniffed. “I would have killed him.”
“He drugged Jameson. He’s lucky that he’s not dead.” Isaiah growled, and he closed his eyes, to calm himself.
“That’s your station now, mijo. I know you find it distasteful, but you did what’s right. That’s not weakness.” She softened. “Your father would be proud.”
He shook his head. He’d never done anything to draw his father’s attention.
“I know you think that’s a bad thing, but you’re his son and this is your family.” She reached for him. “Your mate can help. Let him.”
“He makes me feel so much, Auntie. So much.” It scared him, how much he felt.
“Yes.” She got a faraway look in her eyes, smiling slightly. “I miss your uncle Franco so much. But no force on earth could make me go back and not have that time with him. We’re lucky. We share centuries. The others have only decades.”
He nodded. That was true. He could have a near eternity with Jameson. So tempting.
She smiled now, her fangs showing. “Does he make you want to share blood for days on end?”
“Years. Decades. I could lose myself.”
“There, you see? Listen to that need. Let him really bond with you, then no one can hurt him again.”
He was worried. “I don’t want to hurt him. What if I attack?”
“You won’t.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “How long were your parents together?”
“Eons?” At least. Maybe longer.
“He never hurt her. Not even when four werewolves attacked the compound and she accidently got between him and the ringleader. Not once.”
“Mamma? She did that?” His eyes were going to pop out of his head.
“She did. She was fighting for her children and her mate.”
He said back, stunned. His dainty, ladylike mamma… Fighting wolves. He couldn’t imagine.
“See? We do what we must. He’s yours to protect.”
“I—” He stared into her eyes, so sure, so steady. “I’m frightened.”
He was sick with worry, with fear, with a grinding need.
“I know. I happen to have inside information that this is going to work out. From an angel.” She grinned now, a real smile.
“Harve is a busybody.”
“He’s an angel, dearest. And apparently he still has a vested interest in your once-human mate. And in you.”
“He’s been good to me.” He found me Jameson.
“He has. Trust that. Trust yourself. You think you almost hurt him, but he was in no danger. None. I have seen it.”
She saw many things, and he’d never known one vision to be untrue.
“No? I would have done anything to protect him. I swear.”
“I know.” She rose. “You see? You know in your heart what you need. Call your angel. Freak out a bit. But don’t walk away from your mate.”
“I love you.”
She smiled. “And I adore you, sweet boy. Seriously.”
He took her hands, having stood as soon as she did. He would call Harve, just to make himself feel even better, but she was right. He was being a coward. “Thank you, Auntie.”
“You’re welcome. You’re good. Go back to your man.” She patted his hand before heading off. “Oh, and I’m taking a bottle from your stash.”
“Of course,” he called after her, laughing. “Help yourself.”
He slipped into his quarters. Time for a bath, he thought. Something to do while Jameson slept. Jameson needed to rest, but Isaiah would stay close and worry less.
Or at least he hoped he would.
8
Jameson woke to the sound of humming.
Not really in his ears. More in his head. Somewhere, Isaiah was humming, and the sound was… pretty darned happy.
Someone was in the bathtub—reading, he thought, with the bubbles and the candles and everything. Yummy. He did love a wet, soapy lover. Jameson would join him.
Jameson needed to touch, needed to feel Isaiah. All that lovely blood had made him feel normal again, and now he was going to go pin Isaiah down. Hopefully literally.
He moved through their rooms to the decadent bathroom. Isaiah was soaking, laughing softly at something he read, just as he’d thought. Beautiful ginger man.
Jameson sat naked on the side of the tub, trailing a hand in the water.
“You should be in bed.” Isaiah peered at him over the top of his book.
“I was. I could hear you humming, and it made me happy.”
“I—” Isaiah blinked at him, eyes so blue. “I like happy.”
“So do I. So much better than worried and sad.” He leaned farther down to touch Isaiah’s belly. “I also like clean. Can I come in?”
“There’s room. Are you well? I could fetch Diego for you…” Isaiah slipped over, under the bubbles.
“Oh, I feel amazing. Someone fed me, did you know?” He dipped his toes in after swinging one foot over the edge. “Mmm.”
“Did they? Lucky…” Was that flirting?
He thought it might be flirting. Thank the gods and goddesses.
Jameson slipped into the water, the heat m
aking him gasp.
“Too much?” Isaiah’s words were a challenge.
“No. No, I just didn’t realize. Hands and feet are so much tougher, no?” He was panting lightly, but it felt so good.
“I can soak for hours. I used to spend days in here.”
“Why did you stop?” The tub was huge, so Jameson pushed off at the end with one foot, kinda floating over to Isaiah.
“It’s for children, to spend decades dreaming.”
“Mmm. But now you have a mate. We can spend decades loving.” He relaxed against Isaiah, fingers seeking out wet skin.
“I was scared I was going to hurt you. I saw what I did to Damian and… I was frightened.”
“You would never injure me.” He knew it deep in his bones. Isaiah was his and he was Isaiah’s.
“I slit his throat and had him thrown outside for his people to fetch.”
“I would have let him burn,” Jameson said fiercely. “But he’s your family. I understand.”
“It was his final chance.” Isaiah’s gaze landed on his. “Never again.”
“Good.” That was settled, so now they could have some fun. “Kiss me, love.”
“You’re sure? I can be a monster.” Those eyes were so serious.
“You haven’t seen me when I’m pissy.” Then Jameson sobered. “We’re vampires, Isaiah. We can pretend to be human, but we’re the top of the food chain. Predators. We can all be monsters.”
“I will never harm you, love. You have my word.”
“Well, there you go. Now kiss me!” He pushed up Isaiah’s long body to press their lips together. Enough talking, he needed Isaiah to touch, to taste, and he intended to give his boy a reason not to think.
Isaiah clutched him with bruising strength, kissing him until he couldn’t see straight. Thank god.
He grabbed his boy, fingertips digging in deep where he held Isaiah’s arms. Jameson wanted to leave marks, to remind Isaiah this went both ways. Isaiah needed to remember how it felt for Jameson to take him, to send him into submission.
Isaiah had defended his honor, protected him. Saved him. And he was going to prove he was worth it. Jameson slid his fangs into Isaiah’s lower lip, drawing a bead of blood, which made his whole body tingle.
Isaiah arched, pushing up against him, slick and smooth, body licking at him.
That’s it. My perfect love. He let Isaiah hear his thoughts while he reached down to grab that long cock, stroking it, giving it some friction.
Love. Love, I tried…I tried to protect you, but I need…
Hush now, boy. Let me touch you. I’ll spank your ass if you don’t.
Isaiah’s eyebrow arched. Only if I let you.
You will. He bit again, this time on Isaiah’s upper arm.
Isaiah rippled for him, and he sucked, refusing to lose a drop to the water.
This was his, and before they were done he would feed Isaiah back. Then he would get more blood in his mate, tie him up, and bite him again.
Isaiah rocked, water splashing. That image clearly appealed.
He sent a thought of his boy’s ass red and hot, filled with a plug as Isaiah sucked him.
That got him a moan, Isaiah nodding hard.
Mmmm. I want to beat you purple. He licked at the spot he’d opened, closing the wounds.
“Yours, Jameson. All yours.”
“Yes. Mine. I want everything.” He wanted some of it now too. He lifted Isaiah up, draping him half over the lip of the big tub, that ass just out of the water. “So ready for my hand.”
“Hey! This is the tub!”
“So much easier to soak out the soreness after.” He slapped one perfect cheek. Nothing was sacred. Not here. Not between them. The water made the slap louder.
“Jameson!” That shout was approval, though. Not dismay.
“Yes, baby?” He swatted again, and again.
“Oh!” Isaiah wagged his hips, begging for it, and he gave it, over and over. This connected them, settled them back into their world. It was time for them to come home.
Together.
So Jameson knelt up and let Isaiah have it, let everything fly.
It took time and tears for that sweet ass to achieve the color he was looking for, but he got it. He managed it. He surveyed his work for long moments before adding one more swat to each fine cheek.
“Enough. Jameson! I have need.”
“I do too, love.” The water had a slick feel thanks to the bubbles, so he pushed Isaiah a back down a bit so he could press a finger deep into Isaiah’s burning ass.
“More,” Isaiah arched, offering himself totally. Look at that. That vision made Jameson’s mouth dry.
Jameson gave more, adding another finger so there was some stretch. He wanted Isaiah wild for him. Isaiah rode his fingers like he was a prize pony, the ring of muscles tight around him. Yes. He was mesmerized by the way Isaiah’s ass moved.
“More. More, make me feel it.”
“I think you feel everything, my love.” He slid that third finger in, though.
Isaiah’s frantic motions slowed, the pressure making his lover languid now as he adjusted.
“That’s it, baby boy. Be ready for me. You make me so hard.”
Jameson could sense Isaiah’s response in their bond, in his body. Someone loved when he talked. So he lowered his voice and got even dirtier.
“Gonna fuck your ass, baby. Gonna spank you again with my hips.”
“Please. Hard and deep. Please.”
“Yes. Soon.” He opened up Isaiah’s passage, then grabbed his cock to guide it into place. It was made to fit in that tight, slick sheath, and he eased right in.
“Fuck.” He growled out the word, his need spiraling damn near out of control.
“Yes.” Isaiah slammed back, taking him deep.
Jameson gave up trying to control anything. He just did what he’d said he would. He took his lover hard.
Suddenly they were flying, the water bubbling around them. Isaiah was making these tiny animal noises that made him crazy, made him snap his teeth at the air.
The connection with Isaiah was wide open, their needs twining together, joining them tighter. They were a closed circuit, a complete circle.
Mates.
“Love!” He had never heard Isaiah so hungry.
This was the final step for their bonding. Jameson knew it in his gut. He was going to love Isaiah into completing their mating. Then no one could come between them like that dickhead cousin of Isaiah’s.
He didn’t. He couldn’t. He hurt you and I came.
You saved me. I hope I’m saving you. One way or the other, Jameson already loved Isaiah so much. His heart clenched at the thought of how much he was going to love this man in a decade. A century.
An eternity. Please, love!
“Yes.” He growled the word against the back of Isaiah’s neck, pounding that hot ass, his hips working like a piston.
Isaiah clamped down on his cock, making him roar. It was like a vise, holding him, dragging on his skin. They could barely move, but they did anyway, the whole world pressing in close and then expanding as Jameson’s orgasm burst on him. Isaiah’s climax spun around him, adding to his, making his pleasure go on and on.
They finally collapsed together, slumping down, and Jameson slid his arm between the tub and Isaiah’s belly. Not enough padding there to hold all their weight.
“Love you.” Isaiah’s words were simple. Sure. True.
“And I love you, baby. So much. Together from now on.”
“Together.” Isaiah’s moan was barely a word, but he heard it, loud and clear.
He nodded against Isaiah’s skin, then licked at the vulnerable nape. His mark was there, visible after all these days.
Jameson hummed, happier than he could ever recall. And he had a lot of memories.
“You’re basking.”
“We’re allowed. Are you uncomfortable? We could go bask in bed. Or on that deep leather couch.”
Isaiah chu
ckled, pure easy pleasure filling him. Couch it was.
Well, after they dried off. No one needed wet leather.
Epilogue
“You owe me a blowjob.” Harve walked into Stone’s office, feeling like his wings were unfurled.
“Do I?” Stone turned in his desk chair, head tilted to stare at him. “Why is that?”
“Do you really need a reason?” He walked over and straddled Stone.
“Uh. No.” Stone grabbed his ass, squeezing. “You can ask anytime.”
“Ask? Not demand?” He was having a ball.
“Pushy. You get one right now and then, and you think you’re a stud.” Stone raised one hand now to pinch his nipple.
“They’re happy. Together. Having wild bruising sex.”
“Good. No hiccups? No weird crossbreeding shit like the vamp and the werewolf or anything?” His lover was far too amused.
“Just a happy pair. Perfection. You owe me.”
“I guess I do. How about double or nothing?” Those fingers lingered, Stone petting his chest.
“Double or nothing.” Harve’s eyelids went heavy. “Can we just go for double?”
“Fuck yes, baby. We’ll let Ades deal with the next amazing match, no?” Look at that smile.
He nodded. “I locked the door.”
Stone pulled him even closer, rubbing their hips together. “Well, aren’t you just an angel?”
End
About the Author
Julia Talbot lives in the great Southwest, where there is hot and cold running rodeo, cowboys, and everything from meat and potatoes to the best Tex-Mex. A full-time author, Julia is a hybrid author, published by presses like Dreamspinner and Changeling, as well as indie. She believes that everyone deserves a happy ending, so she writes about love without limits, where boys love boys, girls love girls, and boys and girls get together to get wild, especially when her crazy paranormal characters are involved. Visit Julia’s website: http://www.juliatalbot.com/
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