by Ava March
Micheil nodded slowly. “Have you talked to Mari about this? About your intentions?”
“Not yet.” Andreas looked over at her as she moved back to the bar. “But I will soon. I’m not quite ready yet.”
Kalen simply remained silent, unsure of how to respond to the prince’s rather startling revelation. He had known Andreas and Mari were seeing one another on a regular basis, as the prince had told him not long ago, but he had not realized that the relationship went any further than the bedroom.
Kalen finished off his ale and caught Micheil staring at him. The playful seduction was back, and Kalen knew Micheil had plans on his mind that did not include ale and idle chatter.
With no more than a nod, Micheil stood and slid his chair back under the table. He patted Andreas on the shoulder before turning and starting for the stairs. Micheil cast a single glance back over his shoulder at Kalen. An unspoken thought passed between them, one Kalen knew well.
He smiled and stood, leaving Andreas to toy with the sorcerer’s sister in relative privacy.
Kalen followed Micheil up the first flight of steps, then down the hall to another, smaller set of stairs. As they ascended them, the robe brushed across Micheil’s body, the rustle of the fabric the only sound aside from their footsteps. When they reached the first doorway along the third floor hallway, Kalen reached out to stop Micheil.
“What do you really think of Andreas and Mari?”
Micheil sighed. “Honestly? I don’t think Andreas has any idea what he’s getting himself into. Mari may not utilize her…gifts, but she does have them. I only hope they know what they’re doing, Kalen.”
Kalen reached up and slipped a hand under Micheil’s chin, turning his head to face him. “As do I. And what of us, Micheil?”
A slow smile settled over Micheil’s lips. As he reached down to trigger the latch on the door, he leaned forward to draw his tongue over Kalen’s lips. “As for me,” he whispered as he pushed the door open, “I want to bury myself so deep inside you that heat remains the only thing between us.”
Kalen swallowed hard and followed Micheil into the room. As Micheil closed the door and locked it, Kalen sat on the edge of the bed. He watched, utterly entranced, as Micheil pulled his robe over his head, leaving him bare from head to toe. With the robe on, no one ever assumed anything about the man who wore it, until they had seen that same man wield a sword. Despite his smaller frame, Micheil was death incarnate when he had to be, whether it was by sword or sorcery. He moved slowly toward the bed, as if he were a cat stalking its prey. He knew he had Kalen wrapped around his finger, just as he was wrapped around Kalen’s. When he reached the bed, Micheil dropped to his knees, sliding his hands over Kalen’s thighs. With every inch of their ascent, those hands left a trail of heat, seeping through Kalen’s pants to the flesh beneath.
“I want,” Micheil murmured as he began placing light kisses over Kalen’s cloth-covered thigh, “to taste you. I want to hear you when you come, to feel the heat of your release as it slips down my throat.”
Sweet gods! Kalen felt every nerve in his body, every inch of his flesh, react to those words. Enchanted tongue, indeed. Had he the inclination, Micheil could make a man come without touching him, simply by uttering a few choice words at just the right moment. As it was, Kalen wasn’t too far from that moment now—and the motion of Micheil’s hands was anything but helpful.
As Micheil’s hands moved up Kalen’s stomach, Kalen’s shirt went with them. A moment later, the thin white garment settled onto the wooden floor and the sorcerer’s tongue circled one of Kalen’s nipples, causing Kalen to draw in a quick breath. Kalen threaded his fingers through Micheil’s hair, offering no resistance as the sorcerer pushed him onto his back. One of Micheil’s knees lodged itself between Kalen’s thighs and pressed into him, sending bolts of sensation through Kalen’s body. When Micheil raised his head, he slipped his hand between them to unlace Kalen’s pants. Within seconds, the sorcerer’s fingers wrapped tightly around Kalen’s shaft, sending his back up into an arch as Micheil began to stroke him.
“Please,” Kalen breathed.
Micheil chuckled softly and licked Kalen’s lips. “I love to hear you plead.”
With every upward stroke, he rubbed his thumb gently over the tip. Kalen shivered and leaned his head back, trying to arch his body into Micheil’s touch.
“I need you, Micheil.”
Kalen lowered his gaze and Micheil released him long enough to pull his pants down and off. He tossed them onto the floor and slid an arm under Kalen, pulling him farther up the bed as he settled between his legs. Kalen drew his legs up, and Micheil’s hand dipped down to tease him, those enchanted fingers playing over his entrance. Micheil brought his hand to his mouth and sucked two fingers in, wetting them. Then he lowered it once more and eased them inside Kalen with a soft exhale of breath. Kalen’s hands tightened in the sorcerer’s hair as he bore down on those fingers, wanting more than a simple tease.
“Micheil, please…”
“So open for me,” Micheil purred, licking the line of Kalen’s jaw as his fingers stroked slowly in and out of Kalen’s body. “All for me.”
“Aye,” Kalen whispered. “No one but you.”
From Afar
Ava March
Some rules are destined to be broken.
Loneliness. A concept with which Raphael Laurent is very familiar. He’s lived a solitary life for thirty-six years, shunning the excesses of the local vampire clan—until he spots Lord Aleric Vane, the handsome and dissolute third son of a duke. For three years Raphael has watched from a distance, for only when he is near Aleric does the hollow, empty ache in his chest ease.
Cut off from his family for refusing to follow his father’s dictates, Aleric’s nights are filled with vice. But after three years in London, the city has lost all appeal. Desolate and penniless, his future appears bleak. Until a mysterious man drops from the shadows to drive off a trio of murderous thieves.
When Aleric awakens, he finds himself forever changed. The itch for more that drove him to London is gone. In its place is the feeling that he’s known the beautiful Raphael all his life.
But to save Aleric, Raphael had to break the rules, giving him a chance to love the one man he never thought he could have—a chance that could be ripped away by Aleric himself…
Warning: This book contains hot m/m action with a new vampire with a ramped up sex drive, and a dash of voyeurism of the m/m, m/f, and m/m/m varieties. Definitely not your traditional Regency romance.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
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From Afar
Copyright © 2010 by Ava March
ISBN: 978-1-60504-896-3
Edited by Lindsey Faber
Cover by Scott Carpented
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: February 2010
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