Marcus gazed at him, eyes wandering over the firm muscles of Rowan’s chest. A hand followed, stroking the planes and valleys. “You are cool. Would you like me to stoke up the fire?”
“No. I am always—cool. ‘Tis my nature, I suppose.”
A goblet neared his body and Marcus studied a nipple through the refracting planes of the crystal. Then—a slight movement—and Rowan felt the sharp clean edges teasing him, arousing the flat disk, bringing the nub in the center to a hard bead.
“Your body is appealing. Sensitive too.” Marcus continued his gentle abuse, his glass against one nipple, his palm grazing the other.
“Perhaps ‘tis your touch that arouses me.”
Amber brown eyes glanced into his. “Perhaps.” The other man turned away briefly and divested himself of his own cravat, quickly stripping to the waist. “Let’s see, shall we?”
He took both their glasses and put them aside. “Now, my beautiful Rowan. Let us test this theory of yours. Let us see how our bodies respond to each other when we touch.”
He reached for Rowan’s neck and brought their mouths together.
It was a cavern Marcus investigated eagerly, tongue swirling, lips blending in a tender kiss that brought them close. Cool flesh met his touch, but there was a matching eagerness there, reinforced by Rowan’s arms, which slid up his body and around his neck.
Marcus tightened the embrace, letting his palms slide down over Rowan’s back and beneath his breeches to cup the firm buttocks, squeezing them with delight. They were muscled and solid, evidence of a man who did not spend time idly strolling the pavements of his world. No, this was a man who rode, who strode through life with vigor and kept himself taut—ready to face whatever lay ahead.
Still keeping their mouths engaged in the sensual duel, Marcus let his fingers push the garment down, to puddle at Rowan’s feet and reveal all of him. His cock fell free, thudding solidly into Marcus’ body.
With a bold and deft touch, Marcus found it and stroked it, pulling it up between them, pushing his own hips forward so that his arousal would press against Rowan’s soft sac. He moved, grinding a little, bringing a grunt to the other’s throat as he stimulated them both.
Rowan’s hands tugged at him now, running through the hair that fell on Marcus’ shoulders, then loosening his own breeches. They must deal with boots, but that would come in time. For now, it was just a sexual pleasure to touch—and be touched—with such lustful enthusiasm.
Their erections met and clashed as their passions rose, twin sensations moving urgently between them, reinforced by their movements, their close embrace.
Finally Rowan tore his lips away. “You taste sweet—a tang of man and something else I can’t put a name to.” He stepped back and kicked his trousers free of his boots, bending to rapidly strip off the footwear as well.
Glancing up he stared. “I would taste that too.” He straightened and placed his hands on Marcus’ chest. “Sit. Let me help you out of those…” He nodded at Marcus’ trousers and shining boots.
Obediently, Marcus dropped into a large chair, the cool leather caressing his buttocks, hair a tangle around his neck and shoulders. He watched Rowan fall to his knees and set about easing the leather from his feet. One after another the boots were disposed of, leaving Rowan between his thighs, staring hungrily at Marcus’ cock.
It jutted fiercely from its nest of black curly hair, a drop of moisture beading the tip. Marcus’ heart thudded as cool hands found it, smearing the liquid and then sliding to the base in a long smooth stroke that exactly matched his needs at that moment.
Thighs parted wide, Marcus offered himself to Rowan. And Rowan accepted. Leaning forward, cool lips touched the tip of his cock, followed by the quick swirl of a tongue that knew the perfect places, the perfect pressure.
“You are cut. I like that.” Rowan paused, considering the length that glistened where his saliva had dampened it.
“I’m glad I meet with your approval.” Marcus’ voice was rough, his desire a lump in his guts that was growing each minute. Right now he could control it—but soon…
The black eyes glowed with pleasure as Rowan took him into his mouth. There was nothing tentative about his moves, only a bold claiming, a sure suckle from lips that obviously hungered for this experience.
With care and attention, Rowan worked him, letting his mouth take as much of Marcus’ not insubstantial length as possible and grasping the remainder in a firm and knowledgeable hold. It was a pleasure that Marcus relished, an arousing and sensual delight, making him sigh out a breath and lean back, splayed wide against the leather.
There was silence in the room, as if the world stood still. Only the soft slicking noise of Rowan’s mouth broke the stillness, along with the occasional muted groan from Marcus as his cock was once again nearly swallowed by this fascinating lover.
As if by instinct, Rowan’s grip tightened, pressing beneath the swollen cock, holding Marcus’ orgasm at bay, yet sending him higher along the road to his release. The cool tongue continued to tease and caress and suckle, only to drift sometimes to Marcus’ balls where the attention continued. Always sure, always finding the perfect place to tantalize.
Marcus realized his hands were gripping the leather of the chair in a spasm of pleasure, his body knotting now, approaching the point of no return.
He reached down and grabbed a handful of the sandy blond hair that drifted across his thighs. “Rowan—let me breathe. Or ‘twill be done too soon.”
Rowan’s head rose, lips wet and shining. “As you will. But ‘tis a pleasure for me. Your cock feels good in my mouth.” He grinned. “I’m thinking it will feel good in somewhere else too.”
“I hope so.” Marcus shifted. “Let me see you. Really see you. ‘Tis my turn to play.”
He moved to the edge of the chair and encouraged Rowan to stand, thus putting Rowan’s cock exactly where he wanted it. Now it was his turn to demonstrate some of his own techniques.
Gently he tugged on the broad length, running the folds of skin up and down the solid muscle beneath. “Uncut. Hmm. Interesting.”
A shudder trembled through Rowan as Marcus continued his investigations. “I’m glad—” He broke off as Marcus took him into his mouth.
Rowan hungered. His fangs throbbed beneath his gums, his very soul yearned to feed from this man who was now sucking him deeply and strongly over his tongue. There was something about Marcus, some darkness within him that matched Rowan’s own shadows.
Some power, some indefinable mystery that Rowan sought to understand. A power that was evident in the grasp of firm hands, the confident suckle of a mouth that comprehended the nuances of such an act.
He could feed now, right at this instant—bury his fangs in the broad shoulders next to thighs that were knotting as Rowan fought to control his arousal. Let the blood flow hot and sweet into Rowan’s mouth as he exploded into Marcus’ throat. It would be the ultimate fuck, but something held him back.
Not yet—wait. There is more to come before I do.
So Rowan stood still, battling his deepest urges, relishing the bolts of desire Marcus drew from his cock with his lips and his hands. Truly they were well matched, each knowing instinctively what would give the other pleasure, each enjoying their ability to do so.
Perhaps that was what it was. The thought struck Rowan like a blow to his head. They were giving, one to one, offering, taking, sharing—neither claiming dominance nor the right to possess. He’d given before at such times and relished the experience. But seldom had he received such caresses in return. Seldom had he been touched in such a way as to arouse his spirit as well as his body.
Marcus gave his entire self to their sensual play, holding nothing back. Why? What made him so unique in this regard?
There were secrets locked behind his amber-flecked eyes, secrets that Rowan discovered he wanted to know. To share. Feeding from Marcus would give Rowan a measure of the man’s soul, perhaps. But would it destroy the emotions Rowa
n knew were building between them?
He could not begin to guess. So he simply let himself enjoy Marcus’ mouth, relaxing into the delights to be experienced by the feel of a skilled tongue on his cock.
Marcus shifted a little, falling gently from the seat of his chair to his knees, the better to play with Rowan. Strong fingers kneaded his buttocks and crept unerringly between his thighs to a place behind Rowan’s balls where the slightest touch brought a grunt of surprised delight.
He felt Marcus smile at the response and shared his pleasure in more ways than one. Simply taking joy from another’s reactions—well, it was unselfish and a moment to be cherished.
Rowan’s control began to fray and it was his turn to pull back. “I ache, Marcus. I need to come soon…”
“As do I.” Bold brown eyes stared at Rowan, fires of need smoldering hotly in their depths.
“Then let’s finish it. Please. I-I hunger…”
Marcus nodded and stood. “I share your hunger, my friend. ‘Tis strange. You light fires where there was only an empty hearth.” He moved to the chair, cock hard and thrusting urgently from his body. “I would have you come in me, Rowan. Deep in me. Touch my soul.”
“I will.” Rowan knew the words were a pledge. He would take Marcus into the void, the abyss of orgasm. And in return, Marcus would take him as well.
Rowan moved behind Marcus who leaned over the leather arm and braced himself, revealing buttocks that were hard, silken skin stretched tautly over muscles honed by a life of movement. His arse was ready for the taking, his stance an invitation Rowan would not refuse.
Could not refuse. This man was—special.
And as he began the erotic slide into Marcus’ body, Rowan wondered why.
But then he thrust—and forgot to wonder anything at all.
It was as if he was penetrating a place designed just for him, for Rowan Selkirk. Not for quite some time had he felt this—this elated during a sexual encounter. His hands drifted to Marcus’ hips then lower, finding the cock between his legs, letting their movements slide it through his fingers as their grip tightened and loosened.
Back and forth they rocked, each man breathing quickly, each meeting the other’s thrusts with a growing need for completion.
Tight and hot, Marcus encased Rowan, just as Rowan’s hand encased Marcus. They moved more rapidly, finding a matching tempo in their bodies and a matching throbbing in their cocks.
Rowan rode the pleasure, lips peeling back from gums that released the hidden fangs. He could not control this response, not when he was at a place he so seldom reached. Not when buried within a lover so well suited to his desires.
He would feed, he decided. Feed in those instants just beyond orgasm when the blood of his prey rushed thickly from loin to brain. Interrupt that flow and let it swirl over his tongue, sending a new flood of lust through him that he knew Marcus would accept willingly.
Hurriedly now, both men sped toward their goal, their ultimate release of passion.
“Marcus—I feel it—” Rowan choked out the words, so insufficient to describe the onrush of a climax that threatened to shatter him.
“Now, Rowan, for God’s sake—end it.” Marcus grunted hoarsely beneath him.
The cock he held leaped within his grasp and Rowan knew from the spasms he felt that Marcus had reached his pinnacle. In his turn, he let go, gasping as he flooded Marcus with his come, filling him, staying deep inside as he had promised.
This was indeed a touching of souls.
They shared the tremors, the shaking release of pent-up desires, Rowan leaning on Marcus’ broad back, holding him fast beneath him.
He felt Marcus suck air into starving lungs. He smiled as he understood the need himself. Gently Rowan lifted his head and sought the right spot for his fangs.
Marcus’ next words, however, took all his breath away—and then some.
“If you’re planning on biting me, would you do it now? Beneath my hairline, please. Otherwise the scars are the very devil to hide.”
Rowan froze.
Chapter Two
Marcus wasn’t surprised to feel Rowan’s immobility at the words that echoed through the silence of the room.
Then he felt the softened cock withdraw and they separated, Rowan to shrug into his breeches and Marcus to stoke the fire. Finally he turned, reached for a blanket and settled himself into a chair with the soft wool draped over his nakedness.
He motioned Rowan to the matching chair next to the hearth. “Sit. You look—stunned.”
“I am.” Rowan sat. No sign of fangs across his lips or any outward appearance of being what he was—a vampire. “You know.” Black eyes finally reached Marcus’ own gaze and held it. “You know what I am.”
Casually, Marcus brushed his hair away from the left side of his face and neck, turning so that the firelight illuminated his skin. He knew what Rowan would see—two parallel lines, puckered scars that had healed awkwardly, stretching from his collarbone to his throat. “Yes. I have had some dealings with your kind before.”
A frown crossed Rowan’s face. “I am at a loss. You should be dead. Or—”
“Like you? One of you?”
“Yes.” He passed a hand over his face in a gesture of confusion. “This is—most strange.”
Marcus chuckled. “Coming from one such as yourself, that’s quite a statement.”
Rowan leaned forward. “Tell me. Tell me how you have managed to avoid the bite and its effects? Tell me what happened to you? I need to know.”
“Are you sure?” Marcus watched the light play over the planes of Rowan’s beautiful countenance. “Can I trust you?”
“Trust me?” Rowan’s eyebrows lifted. “Trust me? With what, pray tell? You know what I am, man. You could easily have me destroyed. You could even do it yourself—drag me out into the sunlight and I shall die horribly. I find that you now hold all my secrets, besides the fact we just fucked most pleasurably. Is there anything I have not trusted you with?”
“Good point.” Marcus nodded. “Forgive me. I did not mean to sound impertinent. I’m just not quite used to sharing matters like this with another.”
Rowan relaxed. “Well, I don’t go around London making a point of telling people I’m a soulless creature who preys on blood and is destined to spend eternity in a hell I can’t even describe. When it comes to not sharing things, I believe I have the edge.”
A quick grin curved Marcus’ mouth. “Another point to you.” He tucked the blanket snugly around his waist. “Very well. We shall spend what’s left of this night sharing more than just sex.” He stared at Rowan. “But I will tell you here and now, that if you betray my secret, I shall not be best pleased.”
“Marcus.” Rowan returned his stare, the expression in his black eyes intense. “You have honored me with your invitation this evening, both into your house and into your body. You have done so, apparently, with full knowledge of what I am, what I am capable of doing. I would like to call you friend as well as lover. I do not betray my friends. Ever.”
Marcus watched Rowan, weighing, assessing, finally reaching his decision. “Very well.” He reached for his brandy. “It began in Europe. With a woman…”
“Named Thérèse…” Rowan finished his words for him.
“I see you have met her as well.”
“Yes.” The word was abrupt, bitten off as soon as it was spoken. “Sorry. Please go on.”
There was a momentary glimpse of some inner agony on Rowan’s face, but since he was determined to learn the facts, Marcus would give them to him. Some measure of the man would be revealed by his reactions to the sordid tale.
“Then I probably need not mention I was at an estate, Rogaška. Deep in the hills of Yugoslavia.”
Rowan merely nodded.
“I met her at the hot springs there. We fucked, rather enthusiastically. Then…” His hand drifted to the scars. “She savaged me with teeth that were not—natural.”
Rowan’s throat moved as he
swallowed. “Yes.”
“Apparently…” Marcus paused. “Apparently I was not to her taste. She withdrew from me in what I can best describe as confusion, leaving me bleeding profusely into the water.” He sipped his brandy once more, hands steady, voice calm. “I can only hope that nature cleaned it all up. There was rather a mess.”
“And yet you were unharmed? Unchanged?”
“I healed. I spun a tale of some animal catching me unawares. Not uncommon in that area. My wounds were doctored with much sympathy and an underlying urgency to keep me quiet. Tales of fierce beasts preying on visitors would do little for the Rogaškan economy.” Marcus chuckled. “Few would have believed the truth anyway.”
“’Tis…incredible.” Rowan blinked.
“Yes. I rather agree with that assessment.” Marcus stared into the fire. “I did some research when I got home. Discovered tales of such creatures. And I never forgot her eyes. Black. Black and fiery in her passion.” He glanced up. “Like yours.”
Those black eyes he referred to remained on his face, an expression of puzzlement within those depths. “I have to say I’m confused.” Rowan spoke quietly. “I do not understand how you survived Thérèse’s bite. You must know that she will either kill or…”
“Or convert me into one like herself?” Marcus nodded. “I know that now. How it happens? Well, I shall rely on you to tell me that in your turn.”
“And I will. But first—finish your tale?”
“There’s little more to relate. I healed, returned to England bearing the scars of my encounter as you see. I began to delve into old manuscripts, to read and research anything I could lay my hands on—for the sake of my own curiosity—in order to find out what had happened to me. I even overcame my firm dislike of Byron and read The Giaour in an attempt to find out what kind of creature this flame-haired demon might be.”
“She’s no demon.” The words leaped from Rowan’s mouth defensively.
“No?” Marcus watched his companion. Agony once again flashed across the younger man’s face. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. Depends on your perspective, I suppose.” He sighed. “Anyway, I learned of the myths and legends that surround such—beings. The roots go deep, back in time to before they could be written, just passed by word of mouth under cover of locked doors and shuttered windows. I dismissed most of them as absurd, including Byron’s assertion that vampire corpses are rent from their graves, or however he put it. Rather overblown hyperbole, if you ask me. But beneath the dramatics…” He paused, seeking the right words. “Beneath the tall tales and frightening nonsense, a thread emerged. A fundamental set of circumstances that remained common to several of these legends.”
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