by Kim Dare
Liam paused for a moment before shuffling a little closer so their legs pressed tightly together, thigh to thigh. He wrapped his right hand around Marcus’ shaft and it was easily the most perfect sensation Marcus had ever felt. After so long without any sort of contact between another person and his cock, he was willing to swear that just that mild touch was better than any sex he’d ever had.
Marcus’ head dropped back to rest against the high back of the sofa as delight swept through him and mingled with what he’d tasted of Liam’s bliss. His hips rocked forward, thrusting against the other man’s palm. Prying open his eyes, he looked at Liam.
The boy appeared to be just as enthralled as he was. Very slowly, Liam began to move his hand. They were bound together so closely it was only seconds before the other hand joined its friend around Marcus’ cock.
Moaning his approval, Marcus forced his own hands to remain at his sides. Whether Liam knew it or not, it was his show right then. The man wearing the bondage was the one in control that night.
It took Marcus’ joy addled brain too long to work out what was going on when Liam started to slide down toward the floor at his feet.
He quickly reached out to stop him. “You don’t have—”
“I know I don’t have to.” Liam dropped his gaze for a moment. “But let me anyway?” He’d never sounded more sure of his own desires, more eager for a request to be granted.
And Marcus couldn’t say no to him. He nodded his acceptance. Liam slid down to kneel properly between Marcus’ legs. For a few seconds, all Marcus received from him was a hand job provided at a different angle. Then, as if in slow motion, Liam leaned in and wrapped his lips around the tip of Marcus’ cock.
Slick, wet heat surrounded the glans. It was all Marcus could do to keep his hips still as Liam carefully leaned forward and took more of the shaft into his mouth. Pulling back, he lapped softly at the head, swirling his tongue around it as if it were the tastiest treat he had ever been offered.
Marcus knew he should say something. He should offer encouragement, make sure that Liam knew he wasn’t going to be pissed off with him if he needed to stop, and…
And all he was actually capable of doing was listening to the pretty fizzle and crackle of disappearing brain cells as Liam made his brain melt.
Perfection danced through Marcus’ body, pirouetting and leaping with joy. Liam’s bound hands wrapped around the base of Marcus’ cock, steadying the shaft as his lips worshiped the head.
There was no way to hold back and remain cool brooding on the edge of the dance floor. There was magic in the music born of Liam’s enthusiastic whimpering. It had to be followed.
“Liam!” Marcus barely got the warning out before he came.
Forcing his eyes to remain open, Marcus stared down at his lover as semen spilled into Liam’s mouth. There was no shock in the younger man’s eyes, no panic. He swallowed rapidly, apparently eager to take it all.
Satisfied that there was nothing to worry about, Marcus helplessly gave himself over to a deeper kind of satisfaction. He let pleasure rule him, just for a little while. His eyes fell closed, all the better for him to savor the sensations that couldn’t be seen or heard, but only felt.
He didn’t even try to open his eyes until he felt Liam begin to pull away. Blinking down at him, Marcus watched his prey wipe his fingers across his mouth, cleaning up the cum that he hadn’t been quite able to swallow down with the rest.
“I believe I owe you an apology,” Marcus said as he stroked Liam’s cheek with the back of his fingers.
Liam blinked up at him, uncertainty quick to make its way back into his gaze.
“All that time I spent in the hospital, imagining what it would feel like the first time you went down on me and I completely underestimated how bloody brilliant you’d be at it.”
Heat flamed in Liam’s cheeks, but more than pleased with the praise, he looked confused by it as if he couldn’t believe it was really true.
“You actually have no idea how amazing you are, do you?” Marcus asked.
Liam shrugged. “Ralph didn’t really enjoy the way I liked to…I mean, he always preferred to…” Liam moved his hands as if to put one on the back of his scalp and push his head down.
“Then he’s not just a bastard, he’s an idiot as well,” Marcus said, yawning as lethargy born from satisfaction made its way deep into his bones. “Doesn’t know perfection when it’s wrapped around his own damn cock.”
Liam smiled again, a more certain expression now.
“What about you?” Marcus asked, gently.
Liam looked up for a second. His teeth crept out and nibbled at his bottom lip. He looked down.
Marcus knew the answer long before Liam gave it. He found himself praying that the younger man would have enough confidence to be honest while he waited.
Liam shook his head.
Marcus tried not to grin in relief. “Okay.”
Liam looked quickly up at him.
“Nothing’s compulsory,” Marcus said. Standing up, he offered Liam his hand.
Liam put both his bound hands into Marcus’ grip and allowed the vampire to help him to his feet. Acutely aware of the strength from the other man’s blood pounding through his veins, Marcus took care not to pull him right off his feet.
He didn’t want to take the cuffs away. Marcus stood staring down at the strips of black leather for a long time before he was finally able to convince himself to undo the restraints. Liam said nothing as the buckles were undone.
“It’s time for bed,” Marcus said.
Liam nodded. He didn’t pull away.
“I’m going to go up. Go to your room and get changed. If you’d like to join me and sleep in my room after that, you’d be very welcome.”
They went their separate ways at the bedroom door. Marcus was pretty sure he didn’t inhale another breath for the entire ten minutes he waited for Liam to take him up on his offer and join him.
He made sure Liam didn’t see his relief, or see his smile when he glanced down at the other man’s crotch and saw that Liam, sensible boy that he was, had obviously taken advantage of a few minutes in a room on his own to make himself more comfortable before joining him.
Chapter Ten
“Marcus?”
Marcus looked over his shoulder, to where the grand staircase rose up the other side of the entrance hall. For some reason, Liam had stopped halfway down the flight. Marcus smiled as soon as he saw the younger man.
The reaction was quickly becoming second nature, but this time, he knew the expression probably appeared somewhat strained. He didn’t linger in his admiration of his lover the way he usually would.
“Are you going out?” Liam asked as he reached the bottom of the stairs.
I’m the master, you’re the prey. You’re answerable to me, not the other way around.
Marcus took a deep breath and kept the words back through sheer strength of will. It wasn’t Liam’s fault the thought of stepping out of the house still made Marcus’ stomach clench and his insides knot.
“Just for a little while. I have business in town that I can’t put off any longer.”
“Oh.” Liam’s footsteps came to a halt partway across the hall as his confidence seemed to fail him.
Marcus mentally cursed himself. Pulling on his coat with the air of a man readying himself for battle, he turned back to the boy. “Everything is fine.” He held out a hand, inviting Liam closer.
The younger man’s fingers quickly came to rest against Marcus’ palm. Unsure what Liam needed him to say in order to feel safe and at ease, Marcus took the easy option.
A tug brought Liam closer, well within kissing range and words became irrelevant. By the time they parted, Marcus wasn’t entirely sure who had taken more reassurance from the way their lips moved against each other.
“I won’t be long,” he said. “And when I come home…”
Liam smiled. His eyes sparkled with anticipation. He nodded, not needing M
arcus to finish the sentence to guess that they would both enjoy it a great deal.
It took far more willpower than it should have for Marcus to release Liam and turn toward the door. He jerked it open far harder than was strictly necessary, determined not to show any weakness in front of his…his prey, his pet, none of the words in Marcus’ head seemed to fit what Liam was to him, anymore. All he knew was that Liam was his, and he wouldn’t give any man he owned any reason to believe him incapable of protecting anything that was his.
The gentle spring breeze hit Marcus’ face like a sand blaster. The pale blue sky loomed over him, dotted with irritatingly fluffy white clouds, and far larger than anything had any right to be.
Four walls, a space the size of a hospital room—that was what was natural. The rooms in his house were quite a bit larger, but Marcus could still accept them easily enough. But, the proportions of the world outside the house…
Marcus’ breath rushed out of his body. His head spun. His knees turned weak. And Liam was still watching. Somehow, Marcus forced himself to walk down the two deep steps leading onto the gravel driveway.
“Take care.”
Marcus looked over his shoulder. Liam stood in the doorway, his hand holding on to the door handle as he peeked out past the heavy woodwork.
Nodding, just once, Marcus made sure he kept his steps calm and controlled as he approached the limo. He didn’t actually breathe easily until he slammed the car door behind him and reduced the world around him back into a more manageable size.
He was going to kill Theo for this.
Marcus closed his eyes and dropped his head back against the headrest. The limo’s engine started up, and he felt the car begin to roll forward, but Marcus didn’t open his eyes.
He was going to kill Theo for putting him in that damn hospital, then he was going to go and find someone to patch him up, just so he could kill the little bastard all over again, for screwing his mind over this way.
A simple hanging would be far too good for him. So would being drawn and quartered. Something more inventive would have to be planned. Theo needed to suffer just as much as Marcus had. No, more than that—as much as Liam had suffered at Ralph’s hands while Marcus was unable to wake up and put a stop to it.
As his new chauffeur drove him into one of the far less reputable parts of town, Marcus glowered angrily through the window, not really seeing the rundown houses and abandoned buildings they passed.
Idly running his thumb over the scar on his finger in what was quickly becoming a hard habit to shake, Marcus couldn’t scrape up the slightest interest in the view—not while he could just as easily conjure up mental images of Theo Wallace howling in pain.
The car came to a smooth stop. Marcus frowned as he forced himself to focus on the world beyond the car window. The low brick building looked like exactly what it was—a whorehouse for those who offered their blood along with their bodies.
One glance at the peeling paint and crumbling stonework and Marcus wrinkled his nose at the prospect of entering such a slum. The chauffeur, who Jenson had hired and no doubt mentioned the name of at some point, appeared and blocked Marcus’ view as he opened the door for him.
It was only a few paces across the narrow pavement before Marcus was once more surrounded by walls that cut the world into manageable portions. Just one step inside the safety of the building, he stopped.
The stench of blood struck him like a physical blow. The whole place reeked of it, and desperation was mixed in with every drop. Marcus’ stomach turned over, but he couldn’t deny it was just the kind of place in which he could easily imagine Theo thriving.
Marcus wasn’t going to get his revenge in one of the genteel establishments on the other side of town. There was no avoiding it. Snarling his annoyance under his breath, Marcus strode further into the building, his pace so fast his hair whipped out behind him.
At the end of the narrow corridor, the space opened out into a small room. A man sat behind a desk. Further back, a dozen blood whores of various ages and appearances lounged on grubby sofas, the pale skin, dark shadows under their eyes and messy scars along their veins proclaimed that far too much blood had been taken from them far too carelessly.
The man at the desk straightened up at the sight of Marcus, smiling as he no doubt planned how he’d spend the kind of money a client like Marcus could throw around if he had a mind to.
“Are you looking for something special today, sir?” he asked. “We have a fantastic—”
Marcus took several large notes from his pocket and dropped them on the desk. Before the other man had a chance to snatch them up, Marcus leaned forward and placed his knuckles on them.
“I’m not interested in a feeding—or in anything else you or your…associates might be able to offer me,” Marcus snapped. “I want information.”
The man hesitated. He looked over his shoulder.
“Consider this a down payment. The real money will only be given to whoever can give me the location of Theo Wallace.”
Within a few minutes Marcus was content that he’d made a suitably deep impression. Anyone who was desperate enough to sell themselves in a place like this now had all the incentive they could need to give up Theo’s location.
Turning on his heel, Marcus strode out of the hovel, not bothering to hide his distaste for the place. Ducking into the car as quickly as possible, he wiped his hands on his trousers, as if that would help him feel less polluted by the place.
The chauffeur needed no orders to drive Marcus on to the next whorehouse on the list. Marcus leaned back against his seat. If the private investigator couldn’t do his job, there really was no other option than to do it himself.
* * * *
“Mr. Bates?”
Liam looked up quickly from the magazine he’d been reading. Relief rushed through him as he met Mr. Jenson’s eyes. For some reason, the stories he’d once loved so much, weren’t holding his attention that day. The prospect of being of some use was infinitely more appealing. “Can I help you and Mrs. Jenson with—?”
“You have a visitor.”
Ralph.
The magazine tumbled to the floor at Liam’s feet, gossip columns crumpling under the weight of problem pages.
“A lady by the name of Miss Trent,” Mr. Jenson said, calmly stepping forward and picking up the magazine as if every drop of blood hadn’t drained out of Liam’s face. “If you don’t wish to see her—”
“No, it’s fine,” Liam said, jerking himself to his feet. “For a moment I thought…” He shook his head at himself, knowing he was acting like an idiot. Jenny wasn’t anyone to be scared of. Nurses were on the good guys’ side—it was practically part of the definition. Still, he didn’t rush to meet her.
A glance at the butler and Liam became aware that Mr. Jenson was studying him very carefully. It was possible that he had noticed how pale he was after all.
“Is, um…is Marcus back?” Liam asked, as casually as he could manage.
“No, sir. He’s still engaged in town on business.”
“That’s okay.” Liam straightened his T-shirt. Jenny was a nurse, not a psychopath, he reminded himself one more time. He didn’t need Marcus to hold his hand when he spoke to her.
“I’ll show her into the morning room,” Mr. Jenson said.
“Yes, thank you. I’ll be straight down.” Liam watched the older man walk out of the room. Frowning slightly, he nibbled at one of his fingertips as he tried to work out what the hell the nurse could be doing there, what her visit might mean.
Mr. Jenson had said she was there to visit him, not Marcus. If it had been a message taken by anyone else, Liam might have assumed they simply got it wrong, but Mr. Jenson wasn’t the type to relay a message incorrectly.
Minutes ticked by, Liam still stood in the middle of the room trying to work up the will to move, and failing.
Marcus had done so much for him. He shouldn’t have to deal with his visitors, too. If Marcus came home and stumble
d upon Jenny before Liam even managed to leave the upper floor, that would be yet another burden he’d placed on the other man. It was only that realization that finally convinced Liam to step forward.
He didn’t stop until he stood outside the door leading into the morning room. Even then, he couldn’t let go of his momentum for fear he’d never regain it.
Pushing open the door, Liam stepped inside and kept walking determinedly forward until he stood directly in front of Jenny.
The nurse rose gracefully from her seat on the sofa. For the first time in Liam’s presence, she wasn’t wearing her nurse’s uniform. “Hello, Liam.”
“Hi.”
She ran her gaze over him very slowly, as if checking him for injuries. Liam was pretty sure he’d had x-rays that would have been more likely to miss things. “I…” He swallowed down a bitter taste in the back of his throat as he remembered how he looked when Jenny last saw him. “Why are you here? I mean, how did you find…?” Liam closed his eyes. Pushing a hand through his hair he tried to calm his racing pulse and make sense of it all.
“Shall we sit down?” Jenny suggested.
Liam opened his eyes. “Of course, sorry. I’m just…” Liam forced a smile as he dropped heavily down onto a chair and waved a hand toward the opposite sofa.
“Marcus’ address was on his hospital records. Tony from security saw you getting into his limo when you were both discharged,” Jenny said.
Liam nodded slowly, well aware that she was still assessing his every movement. That made sense. There was no reason to panic; it was all very straightforward once it was all broken down into manageable chunks. Records. Gossip. Nothing scary about that.
“How is he treating you?”
Liam lifted his gaze and met the nurse’s eyes. “Marcus has never hurt me.”
Jenny sat back in her seat. She looked different in her jeans and checkered shirt, but her eyes were as quick as ever.
“He wouldn’t do that,” Liam said, putting every bit of strength he had into the words.
“Vampires are…” Jenny seemed to consider her next words carefully. “I met quite a few of them during the years I worked at the blood bank. They aren’t the same as humans.”