Life After Humanity

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Life After Humanity Page 22

by Gillian St. Kevern


  He’d gone still when Nate moved, and his mouth was open. He didn’t seem to be breathing more rapidly, but there was color in his face that hadn’t been there before, and he dropped his tie on the floor with what seemed like impatience. His eyes made their way up Nate’s body, narrowing when they met Nate’s gaze. He turned, flicking off the lights.

  Fuck. Nate drew a shaky breath. Not knowing Ben’s location was sensory deprivation—or was it overload? As his eyes adjusted to the dark, the smallest sound took on momentous importance. He heard the flutter of cloth and imagined Ben’s discarded shirt falling to the floor. He shifted on the bed, straining to hear more.

  He was acutely aware of every sensation in his body. The sheets beneath him had taken on his warmth, brushing across his skin like a caress. The feeling of his boxers against his straining erection was agony. Nate dug his fingers into the sheets in an effort to resist touching himself.

  There was a movement in the darkness. The light of the alarm clock outlined Ben’s shape and beneath it the gleam of his eyes fixed on Nate.

  Nate bit his lip. Vampire night vision? The thought that Ben could see him perfectly had him squirming, raising his hips off the bed. He felt exposed in the best possible way. I am so screwed. There is no way I’m going to be able to hold on—he’s playing me from the inside out.

  Ben’s touch, stroking his chest through his shirt, made him shudder. Nate screwed his eyes shut, tensing his body as he fought the urge to arch into Ben’s fingers.

  Ben’s chuckle was low, and Nate recognized the tone of what he thought of as Ben’s inner vampire. “It is just as well that we are alone. If New Camden’s vampires suspected how responsive you are—”

  “Only you,” Nate gasped, not even sure what point he was arguing. It was hard to think with Ben’s hand resting on his stomach, so close to where his cock waited, but making no move to touch it. “You, Ben.”

  Ben said nothing, but he began slowly unbuttoning Nate’s shirt.

  The cold air on his chest was sobering. Nate took a deep breath, fighting to get his body under control. He had to hold on, not get more aroused. “Um. There was a lady at the meeting. The blonde who tried to hit on me.”

  Ben ran his fingers down Nate’s chest. “What about her?”

  Nate gasped. After so much time anticipating it, Ben’s touch had an electrifying effect. “You— I mean, she…she said something.” He made a concerted effort to focus. “You hadn’t marked me. What did she mean?”

  Ben went still, his fingers resting lightly on Nate’s chest. “It’s not important.”

  “She meant biting, right? Feeding.”

  Ben’s fingers gripped his arm. “It’s not important, Nate.”

  “Isn’t it? ’Cause I think who you feed from would be really important—and I am totally up for that.”

  Ben let go, sitting back on his heels. “It’s not a simple matter. Feeding a vampire—even when done consensually and with as much care as possible—still creates a link between the vampire and the donor. Their destiny is forever entwined, as you saw with the necromancer. It ends only with death—permanent death.”

  Nate felt a chill settle over him. “Isn’t that all the more reason for it to be me? We’re already as entwined as it is possible to get.”

  “Nate.” Ben gripped him by his collar, hauling him upright. “Do not tempt me. There are risks you don’t know—”

  “You’re still afraid of hurting me—of thinking you have to protect me.” Nate sought Ben’s eyes in the dark. He placed his hands on Ben’s sides. “I’m not the ignorant guy I was when we first met. I’ve grown—you know how much I’ve changed.”

  “It’s true you’ve learned a lot,” Ben said slowly. “But this is a really big thing, Nate.”

  “All the more reason it should be me and not some anonymous vegan.” Nate licked his lips. “Don’t you think?”

  There was a faint glow from the window where New Camden’s lights could be seen. Now that Nate’s eyes were accustomed to the dark, he saw Ben’s tongue flicker across his lips and pause, as if he’d caught himself in a reflexive motion. “You’re not jealous, Nate?”

  Was he? There was some resistance to the idea that Ben should lean on anyone else. Nate gave up trying to probe it. “I want to do anything I can for you. I—you’re that important to me, Ben.” Love came readily to his lips, but he didn’t think Ben was ready to hear it.

  Ben leaned in, his hand resting on Nate’s cheek. “Hold on, and if you succeed in resisting me—I will feed.”

  Heat immediately surged through Nate’s body as all his desire, momentarily held at bay by the serious turn of their conversation, rushed back in one overpowering wave. He felt Ben’s fingers stroke his skin, and Nate was sure by the curve of his mouth that he’d felt Nate’s need. Cruel! He knows exactly what he’s doing to me—and he enjoys it. Nate moaned breathlessly.

  Ben pushed him back down onto the bed, settling himself between Nate’s legs. He parted Nate’s shirt, pressing his mouth to Nate’s exposed skin.

  Nate dug his fingers into the sheets once more. It was a growing battle just to keep his reactions in check—a battle Nate knew he couldn’t win. Can’t win on the defense— But the idea of stopping Ben was intolerable. His dick pulsed, demanding attention. Just one touch—

  Trying to keep his mind off his need, Nate concentrated on the discomfort of his situation. His muscles, straining for so long, ached. The slightly restrictive effect of the boxers. The cold night air settling over his skin. The feeling of release as Ben eased the boxers back, freeing his cock at last—

  I’m in trouble. Nate swallowed. As much as he tried to focus his attention elsewhere, his cock pulled him back. He felt its angry pulse in his belly, spreading through his veins, beating in his forehead. One touch and it would all be over.

  But Ben didn’t immediately touch him. Nate heard the rustle of cloth over the sound of his own harsh breathing and looked up to see Ben’s undershirt slide to the floor. He pushed his briefs off slowly.

  Nate was aware that his mouth was parted and hungry. He couldn’t see Ben’s freed cock, but he could imagine it. In the dark, the pictures his mind created were so vivid he felt he could taste Ben already on his lips. His body strained, and Nate caught his hand reaching for his throbbing cock.

  Have to hold on! Nate put his mind on the prize—the thought of Ben’s mouth against his neck, taking him in a way no client or previous lover ever had. It would hurt, he was sure of it, but then—vampire addicts described it as a rush. There was something really hot about the thought of feeding Ben—

  A breathy moan filled the air. Nate recognized it as himself too late. Fuck. This is not working. He felt the bed shift as Ben joined him and struggled desperately to take hold of himself. I’m a tree—an oak. Time is nothing to me. Nothing shakes me—

  He felt the calm of the oak settle over him, just in time.

  Ben’s cock pressed against his leg as he positioned himself between Nate’s legs. “Spread yourself, Nate. Legs bent.”

  Nate shifted himself, helped by Ben’s hands, directing him the way he wanted him. His heart still beat at an accelerated rhythm, but he was able to distance himself from it.

  Ben rested one hand on Nate’s upturned knee. He rocked lightly on his heels, his cock sliding over Nate’s skin, rubbing against the base of Nate’s erection.

  “Fuck me…” How was it Ben felt so good? It filtered through his thoughts of the oak, and Nate clung with difficulty to his resolve. The breeze ruffles the leaves—but it doesn’t go within. Nate forced his tense body to relax. He was fighting Ben’s battle for him, making himself even more aware of every move he made.

  Ben must have interpreted Nate’s relaxation as preparedness. “Condom?”

  “Got it.” Nate had placed it on the bedside table within easy reach. Struggling with the tiny packet between trembling fingers was a welcome distraction. Nate wriggled into a sitting position, taking hold of Ben’s base with one hand. He
couldn’t resist running his thumb along the ridge of the frenulum, admiring how it felt beneath his hand.

  Ben tensed. “Nate.” It was equal parts command and warning.

  Nate grinned in triumph. Perhaps he wasn’t the only one in danger of letting go too soon? He slid the condom on, using his hand to gently pump Ben’s length as he did. Hard—so hard. The smell of the plastic didn’t obscure the heady smell of Ben’s arousal. Nate let him go, to lick a smudge of precome off his fingers, and found Ben’s gaze on him.

  “As you were.” His eyes were completely dark, only their gleam indicating where Ben looked.

  Nate found himself on his back, spreading himself, his heart racing as he waited for Ben’s next move. He swallowed, wondering if he should have tried to take the battle into Ben’s territory—and then it was too late. Ben’s cock trailed across his skin, its cool tip searching for—and finding—his entrance.

  Tree! Nate tried to remain still. Every thought was on Ben’s movements, his cock teasing across Nate’s entrance. The bed tipped, Ben adjusting his weight, one hand resting on Nate for balance. And then he was slipping through the tight ring of muscle as easily as if he was coming home.

  Oak. Nate tried to remind himself that he was an oak, but the thought flashed into his mind of the rowan, putting its roots down inside the oak, the two growing together. Fuck me. Ben paused, readjusting his hold on Nate’s legs, before drawing back to slide into him and it was all Nate could do not to come right then.

  “Ben—” He was a professional. He should not be going to pieces but it was everything exactly where he wanted it most. Ben moved inside him as if he were part of Nate, his treacherous body accommodating him perfectly.

  “So greedy.” Ben paused, holding himself still. He let go of Nate, so it was only his cock inside Nate, his skin pressed against Nate’s ass. “Are you even trying to hold out?”

  Nate bit his lip. His one chance was to get Ben so close that he lost control, that he forgot—

  Deliberately he tightened around Ben’s cock, raising his hips so that he could thrust against him.

  Ben gave a vampire’s growl and, seizing Nate’s leg, went back to his work. His thrusts were fast, and Nate felt a sense of triumph. I got him—

  And then Ben brushed his prostate, and for a second Nate couldn’t even think.

  He was next aware of Ben sliding out, rolling him onto his side. He moved his leg at Ben’s urging, watching as Ben lined himself up again. Ben gripped his leg, using it to hold Nate in place as he slammed into him. Nate looked down his stomach. His neglected cock was red and swollen, jerking with every thrust Ben made. Nate’s voice was hoarse. He didn’t remember speaking, but he couldn’t stop the tumble of words from his mouth. “Ben—please, Ben. I can’t—can’t wait. I need—”

  Ben slowed. He deliberately pushed forward, striking unerringly at Nate’s prostate. “You give up?”

  Nate bit back his whine. “Yeah. Yeah, I can’t—I’m going to—I’m so close.”

  Ben’s grin was savage. He pulled out entirely. Nate found himself pushed face down onto the bed, felt Ben climb over him. He willingly spread himself wide. “Please, Ben—”

  Ben’s breath tickled Nate’s neck before his kiss. He laved his tongue across Nate’s sensitized skin, and Nate moaned. He felt Ben’s hands slide across his cheeks, and raised his hips. Ben’s cock found his entrance unerringly and slid home in one devastating move.

  Nate’s whole body trembled with it. “Fuck—” It would not be long at all, just another raise of Ben’s hips—

  Ben’s mouth pressed wetly against his neck. There was a sudden scrape—teeth—and then two pinpricks that grew suddenly into lancing pain.

  Fuck! Nate’s body jerked in alarm, and Ben’s hips snapped forward. Nate’s body quivered, like he was caught in a spider’s web, unable to free himself, caught between his need and the pain in his neck, throbbing in time with his racing heart.

  The pain vanished, in its place a rush of warmth. Ben placed his mouth over it and sucked, sending exquisite ripples of pain through his skin. Nate felt something inside him unlock. His body arched of its own accord, his vision filling with light. His come splattered across his stomach, while his mind soared, riding waves of sensation he’d never dreamed existed.

  And then—

  This is too much. The awareness of danger came suddenly. Nate tried to formulate a warning, but his thoughts were slow. “Ben—”

  The darkness was sudden, and equally intense. Nate fell.

  Chapter Thirteen

  A KNOCKING SOUND. Pain lanced through Ben’s head.

  He groaned, curling up on the bed. With every knock, his entire skull pulsed with fire. It blotted out everything but the sound.

  It was a few seconds before he realized it had stopped, his head continuing to beat with the aftereffects of the pain. Ben breathed out in relief, burrowing back into the blankets. It was no good. His head continued to throb, duller but still painful. His lips cracked, and when he ran his tongue over them he tasted copper. There was a thick feeling in his mouth.

  The knocking started again. This time, it was a determined assault, a stream of continuous banging. A few seconds was more than Ben could take. He levered himself upward and swung his legs over the side of his bed. He staggered as he stood, only preventing himself from falling by catching the back of the chair. His foot encountered cloth. He realized it was a shirt and pulled it on. There should be trousers. He had a dim memory of them folded over the back of a chair.

  Something dry crackled under his feet as he stepped toward the chair. Ben looked down, but he couldn’t see anything. The room’s heavy blackout curtains kept it dark, too dark for his tired eyes to fathom. He could smell something sweet and rotten, and fought a wave of nausea.

  The banging started up again, more energetically. Ben stepped into the trousers and made his way to the door. His legs didn’t want to obey him, but by staggering from doorway to wall, he reached the front door. The pain increased with his proximity to the sound. Swallowing back bile, Ben opened the door.

  Aki blinked at him, dropping his hand. “Jeez, Ben! You frightened me, looming up out of the dark like that.” He peered closely at him. “Rough night?”

  Ben stared at him. His brain struggled to process Aki’s question—or even the searing yellow of his high-visibility jacket and the hot-pink running shorts he wore.

  Something moved at his feet. He looked down and saw the dog straining at his lead to get into the apartment.

  “Heel,” Aki said, jerking the lead. “That bad, huh? You guys must have had quite the party after I left.”

  Ben swallowed. The thick feeling in his mouth had increased to the choking point. “Aki.”

  “Congratulations on remembering my name. Don’t strain anything coming up with a greeting—seriously, you look terrible. I’m guessing Nate’s even worse if you’re the one answering the door?”

  Ben felt a spike of alarm. “Nate—” Where was Nate?

  “What on earth did you guys get up to? It smells like a forest died in here.”

  The dog began to bark. Each bark sent a stabbing pain through Ben’s skull, ending any chance of thought.

  “Stop that! God—” Aki hauled the dog back from the door. “It’s like you’ve never been hungover, you sadistic brute.”

  Ben gripped the doorframe tightly. “Hungover?” He racked his aching brain, trying to place the word. A memory surfaced. “There was a bottle of wine.”

  “More than one, I’m guessing.” Aki sounded amused, even as he struggled to drag the frantically barking dog toward the elevator. “Nate’s with you?”

  Nate. Ben looked blankly toward the bedroom. “Um—”

  “Yeah, no.” Aki snorted. “I do not need the TMI. I came to see if Nate wanted to take responsibility for his animal, but I’ll do it. Tell him he owes me—and get some vegetable juice into him.”

  “Vegetable juice?” Ben swallowed and felt a burning sensation at the back o
f his throat.

  “Nate swears by it as a hangover cure. Doesn’t matter what kind—as long as there’s some kind of vegetable involved, he’s good. The key is to stay hydrated.” Aki succeeded in wrestling the dog into the elevator. He yelled back, over the closing doors. “Seriously, hydrate!”

  Ben stood still, staring after them. The noise had gone, but the twisting sensations in his stomach had risen up to take their place. His stomach heaved, and Ben realized that he was going to be sick.

  He staggered to the bathroom on legs that shook, only just reaching the toilet in time.

  It was some time before he could think. His stomach continued to roll, and he gagged, but this time the only thing that was produced was a dribble of spit and something hard that stuck to Ben’s lip.

  He sank backward onto the floor, shutting his eyes. For a few moments he just breathed. His skin was clammy, but the cold of the tiles beneath him was a relief. What is the matter with me?

  He picked the hard thing from his lip and looked at it. It took him some time to recognize it—an uneven patch of some brown thing that looked leathery but was brittle. There were thin veins running through it. A leaf? Ben stared at it. I don’t remember eating any leaves—

  Memory flashed into his mind. Nate’s body arched against him, the smell of his come mingling with the delicate sweetness of his blood—

  Ben swallowed a fresh wave of bile and staggered to his feet. He stared at the contents of the toilet. This is bad. Blood, clotted and rapidly turning a dirty brown, in huge clumps, not that dissimilar from the dried brown leaves that stuck up out of the mass. Not bad—this is— His mind blanked. “Nate!”

  His legs shook so violently that Ben found himself on his knees. He crawled toward the bedroom, fear building in his chest. Using the doorframe to pull himself up, Ben hit the lights.

 

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