Blood Claim

by Laura Baumbach, Angela Fiddler, Jet Mykles

  For a moment, Wolfe stared, eyes a little wide, lips parted. He looked almost as stunned as Matt felt. But it was brief. He smiled, and Matt's attention was redirected to his full, red lips. “Hello, Matthew."

  He couldn't talk. He should talk. He should say something. Anything. He couldn't just stand there, gaping at the man. How transparent and hopeless was that?

  But he couldn't stop himself. His heart swelled in his chest, and his dick started to swell in his pants. His hands itched to reach out and touch, and his legs wanted to give out and take him to his knees for some justified worship. The man was simply beyond belief.

  Still smiling, Wolfe raised to eye level a plastic bag with a full brown paper sackwithin it. “Dinner?"

  Matt blinked. It did nothing to dispel the vision. “Yeah."

  Wolfe chuckled. “May I come in?"

  Another blink. Geez, where was his head? “Yeah. Come in.” Matt stepped aside.

  For the first time in what seemed like forever, another person crossed Matt's threshold. A shiver of fear passed over his skin, but it was quickly erased by the sight of Wolfe's long legs and high, tight butt encased in snug denim. A simple long-sleeved T-shirt in a deep green bagged around a slim waist but most definitely hugged a broad back and nicely muscular shoulders and arms.

  "You must try this garlic bread,” Wolfe told him, digging into the bag right after he'd set it down. “I don't know what they put on it, but the smell alone is divine."

  Letting the front door close softly, Matt followed as though drawn by an invisible rope. He flipped on the overhead light in the kitchen for the sheer desire of wanting to see Wolfe better. By the time he reached Wolfe, the man had a big hunk of bread covered in all sorts of cheesy stuff in his fingers, holding it up for Matt. Those red lips were grinning at him again. “Taste."

  Snared by the green eyes, Matt opened up. Crusty bread touched his tongue, and he bit down on instinct. A portion of his brain told him that what was in his mouth was delicious. A larger portion of his mind told him that the luscious lips below those amazing green eyes would taste even better.

  Did he whimper?

  "Good?"

  He nodded, watching those eyes linger over his face, hoping they liked what they saw. Wolfe's smile melted in the heat between them as he leaned in closer to Matt. A pink tongue darted between Wolfe's lips as he lifted the remaining hunk of bread from Matt's mouth and set it aside on the counter. Matt chewed by rote, watching that beautiful face loom closer. He shut his eyes as something warm and wet eased over the right corner of his mouth. “Butter,” Wolfe muttered, breath wafting over his skin.

  "Mmmm.” God, he smelled good! Even over the prevailing aroma of garlic, cheese, butter, and Italian spices, Matt could detect the dark, delicious male scent.

  A smooth cheek rubbed his. “Swallow."

  Matt did.

  Hands slid over his shoulders, partly down his arms, then around his back. “Matt,” came a whispered groan near his ear, “you're more intoxicating than I expected."

  His head tilted back as Wolfe drew his body close. Locks of midnight hair fell forward to caress his face, every bit as silky and fragrant as expected. Moaning helplessly, he slid his arms around Wolfe's chest, hands barely overlapping over his spine. The T-shirt was warm from the body heat beneath it, and Matt soaked it in like a sponge.

  "Matt.” Lips ghosting over his temple. “I wanted to go slow.” Lips at the corner of his eye. “Please understand.” Lips lingering over his cheek. “Please understand that I need to have you.” Lips nipped at his. “Please?"

  Utter shock succumbed instantly to undeniable lust. Matt pressed his palms to the back of Wolfe's shoulders, trying to hold him closer. “Please, Wolfe."

  "Yes."

  Wolfe's mouth pressed his, opening it for the tongue that plunged within. Matt succumbed willingly, undoubtedly whimpering this time as he sucked on Wolfe's tongue, trying to swallow it down. Delicious. Warm and wet with a different coppery taste that Matt hadn't ever encountered in his limited experience. His brain wouldn't process it, though. Not with the man kissing him. Not with strong fingers tangling in his hair, taking command of his head, bending him farther backward. He held on but wasn't remotely worried about falling. Wolfe's embrace was strong and secure, arms twined around him, holding him still, keeping him from escaping.

  Escape was the last thing on his mind.

  A palm cupped one half of Matt's ass, fingers curling in to squeeze hard. Matt squirmed, crying out at the perfect pressure of fingers where none but his own had been for so very long. He wrapped his leg partway around one of Wolfe's thighs, bracing his arms on broad shoulders in a halfhearted attempt to climb him.

  He cried again, in loss, when the hand in his hair pulled his head back and away from Wolfe's punishing kiss.

  "Tell me you want this,” Wolfe demanded, feral green eyes boring into Matt's He squeezed Matt's ass again, nails digging in through the thin fabric of Matt's pants. “You want me to fuck you?"

  "Yes,” Matt mewled, knowing he sounded desperate and hardly caring. His head was crystal clear on one goal, and his body was on fire with both the cause and the cure in his arms. He squirmed again, sinking his fingers into glorious black hair. “Yes, please.” He licked his lips, straining against the hand in his hair. “Fuck me, please, Wolfe."

  Those eyes almost closed, a decadent groan escaping parted, swollen lips. “Damn. Matt."

  "Wolfe,” he begged, nipping at the man's sharp chin. “Please. I need it."

  The hand in Matt's hair loosened, slipping down his back. “Hold on.” Matt barely registered what he meant before the second hand cupped the other half of his ass and he was lifted off his feet.

  His legs automatically wrapped around those slim hips. “Oh, God!” He buried his face in Wolfe's neck, breathing in the heated scent of his smooth, pale skin. He'd never had a lover carry him before! It was a deliciously helpless feeling to be cradled in Wolfe's firm hold as they made their way into the bedroom.

  Incoherent with need, he couldn't let go when Wolfe lowered him to the bed. He devoured the lips and tongue that were offered as Wolfe's weight came down on top of him. Kissing, crying, squirming, he tore at Wolfe's shirt while the other man's hand pulled the drawstring of his pants open, then plunged inside to find his dick. He nearly came out of his skin, writhing at the acute pleasure of another person's fingers wrapped around his erection, of the thumb smearing cum over the tip. He dug his fingers into the heated satin of the skin of Wolfe's back.

  "Sweet,” Wolfe murmured, pulling his mouth away so wet lips could traverse Matt's chin and nuzzle at his neck. He pulled in a deep, long breath. “So very, very sweet."

  Matt tossed his head aside, making plenty of room for Wolfe. “Wolfe, please."

  The flat front of Wolfe's teeth pressed Matt's pulse. His tongue teased the sensitive skin. He growled, a wild, barely contained sound that made Matt's hips jerk in response.

  Then he was gone, kneeling up over Matt.

  Bereft, Matt reached for him, but Wolfe caught his wrists. “I'm not going to last,” he muttered. “I've got to get inside you."

  "Yes. God, Wolfe, I need that."

  "Tell me you have lube."

  Matt nodded eagerly. “It's—"

  Wolfe released Matt's wrists. “Get it.” He shoved back and off the bed, leaning on the edge as he bent to pull off his boots.

  Matt was caught for a moment, watching the feline beauty of him. Black hair fell forward to obscure his face, but the rest of him was plenty feast for the eyes. Matt's hands had rucked his shirt up under his armpits, exposing a pale, cobbled belly. If there was hair, Matt couldn't see it, and that just made his fingers itch to explore the smooth curves.

  One boot dropped to the floor, and Wolfe tossed his head as he shifted to get the other. “Lube, Matt."

  Jumping at the darkly toned command, Matt eeled sideways to reach the drawer of his nightstand. The move took his loose pants halfway down his thighs. Dropping
the bottle of lube on the mattress beside him, he squirmed the rest of the way out of his pants, getting his T-shirt off at the same time.

  By the time he was naked, Wolfe was mostly so, only the shirt—now fallen down to hide his belly again—remained. His erection was as long and sleek as the rest of him, blushing red from the lightly furred base to the smooth tip. Wolfe eyed Matt hotly as he knelt on the bed. “Turn over."

  Eagerly, Matt complied, drawing his knees up under him and shamelessly presenting his ass.

  Palms cupped his cheeks and spread them, exposing him. He barely felt the warmth before what could only be a tongue drew a wet, hot line up between, stopping to toy with his hole.

  Matt screamed into his pillow, very nearly coming. Only once had Daniel ever done that for him, and he'd loved it. Clearly, Wolfe didn't mind the act at all. His tongue teased the tight ring of Matt's hole until it opened up and he could worm inside. Matt panted, clutching his pillow, doing all he could not to come. Wolfe helped by closing strong fingers around the base of Matt's erection, stifling the surging feeling. But he kept tonguing, bringing Matt closer to orgasm despite the restriction.

  "Wolfe.” He moaned. “Please, gonna ... can't take ... please."

  Tongue and fingers left him. Matt had to pause to try and contain himself, helpless to move as Wolfe leaned over him to get the lube. He heard the cap pop once, then again. Felt the soft thump as the bottle hit the mattress. Then pressure at his opening. Wolfe's cock. Oh, God! Wolfe's cock!

  A hand gripped his shoulder. “Relax,” said that molasses voice, seeping warmth into his muscles. Matt couldn't help but comply, sagging just a little as Wolfe pressed into him.

  No amount of relaxation could keep him from tightening up a little. It had been so long since he'd been properly fucked, and his body wanted to squeeze the delicious invader. Wolfe paused just inside, spreading his hand over Matt's hip as he waited for Matt to melt around him. Moaning happily, Matt pressed back, slowly impaling himself on Wolfe's heated erection.

  Sex! Good! Yes! Monosyllabic affirmations exploded in his head as fireworks popped every nerve ending. His skin crawled with feeling as Wolfe filled him, leaning over him, blanketing him with the warmth of his body as he came to rest fully inside.

  "Sweet,” Wolfe murmured, breath a caress on the back of Matt's shoulder.

  Fingers wove with Matt's, pulling both hands away from the pillow clutched beneath his chest, spreading his arms out to either side of him. Weight pressed him down into the mattress, forcing his knees apart until his chest, belly, and groin were all flush with the mattress. Pinned, Matt could only groan as Wolfe pulled back his hips, then pressed within again.

  "So good.” He couldn't be sure he said it aloud and couldn't be bothered to care. He rocked his hips as best he could as Wolfe set the slow, steady rhythm. He could feel the taut muscles of Wolfe's belly against the top of his ass. His own hair covered his face, denying him the chance to look back to see Wolfe over him, Wolfe fucking him. But Wolfe's heat and Wolfe's deep, feral growls were enough to assure him that the other man enjoyed fucking him.

  Fingers released his hands, and Wolfe settled heavily atop him, murmurs too low to understand caressing the back of Matt's neck. Matt's skin was so sensitized that even the soft material of Wolfe's T-shirt scratched him, yet another delicious sensation. Wolfe's arms slid underneath him, one palm spreading over his thudding heart and the other slipping down to circle his cock. Awash in sensation, Matt arched his back, trying to press himself as close to his lover as he possibly could.

  "Matthew.” Faster thrusts now, that thick, gorgeous rod tunneling into Matt's backside. “So much.” Such a desperate sound, muffled in the bend of Matt's neck. It matched the desperation racing through Matt's veins, filling the cock that Wolfe ruthlessly pumped as he rode Matt's body.

  Matt whimpered, clutching at the sheets bunched beneath them, drowning in the heat that pressed around him.

  "Come,” said the voice, followed by a deep, hard stab from the cock in his ass.

  Pleasure erupted in Matt's balls, spilling upward through his cock, surging up his spine and nearly taking his head off as he shouted his release. A second wave of brutal pleasure tore through him following a sharp pain in the side of his neck. Matt cried out as his body shook, battered endlessly with a pleasure that seemed ready to cause him to explode. The arms that surrounded him kept him whole as Wolfe rode him hard to his own release.

  Only as he sank into blissful, sated, undeniable sleep did it hit him that Wolfe's mouth was sucking at his neck. What?!

  Sleep, said Wolfe, more felt than heard.

  Inky black folded over Matthew's thoughts.

  * * * *

  Matt woke in a nest of rumpled sheets, the bedspread tucked up around him, blinking at the sunlight filtering through the blinds on his bedroom window.

  Sunlight?

  Bleary, he pushed up to his elbows, turning his head this way and that, searching for...

  "Wolfe?"

  No answer.

  He turned over on his side, wincing slightly at the tenderness in his backside, a remembered ache that he'd not felt for a long time. That, at least, told him that he'd not imagined the sex.

  The sex. He had to pause for a moment to pay homage in memory to truly spectacular sex. He could not recall having ever been fucked so hard or so well. With all respect to his dearly departed Daniel, his lover had never been able to wring him dry like that. Not in one session.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, Matt shoved his fingers through his loose hair to push it back from his face. No sound from the kitchen or the open bathroom. No sound of the television in the next room. He was alone.

  Disappointment crashed down on him. Hadn't Wolfe enjoyed him? Was that why he'd left? Although ... A check of the clock at his bedside said it was almost seven in the morning. Wolfe couldn't have arrived at his apartment much after six the previous night. The sex couldn't have taken more than an hour or two. Surprise made Matt blink at the rumpled drawstring pants which lay on the floor beside his feet. If the sex had even taken two hours, that meant Matt had slept over ten hours! He hadn't done that in as long as he could remember, even before Daniel died.

  Damn! What must Wolfe had thought, for him to have passed out like that? Had Wolfe tried to wake him? Was there any part of the night that he didn't remember? Matt wracked his brain, but couldn't for the life of him remember anything after he'd come.

  No. He remembered one thing!

  Panicked, he shot to his feet and lunged into the bathroom. Hurriedly, he grabbed his hair to bare his neck and twisted around to see if ... Was that a bite? Were those two little red spots something normal? They certainly didn't look fresh, more like a wound from days ago where the scab had already fallen off. Had they been there before? Or had Wolfe really bitten him?

  No. Wolfe couldn't be a vampire. Matt had talked to him countless times during the day. Though, Matt had never seen him during the day. Could he, maybe, be awake and out of sunlight? Or was the whole sunlight thing a sham?

  Noting he was more confused than scared—and blaming that on the daylight—he left the bathroom to pad into the living room. There was a Post-it Note on one of his monitors.

  Left the food. It reheats well.

  I'll come by tonight. We need to talk.

  W

  The W was signed with a ridiculous flourish that seemed so very Wolfe that it made Matt's heart skip a beat.

  The food. Italian. Garlic galore. He went to the kitchen and found that the contents of the paper bag had been removed and now sat in neat little covered tins in his refrigerator, all but the bread, which was wrapped in aluminum foil in the oven that Wolfe had left partially open. If Wolfe was a vampire, he couldn't stand garlic. Unless the garlic thing wasn't true.

  Of course, Wolfe hadn't eaten any, had he?

  Groaning, Matt went to sit, still naked, on his couch. He still held the yellow Post-it in his hand, slightly crumpled. His body still felt sated and warm
, but a tingle of yearning burbled in his balls when he looked at the W again.

  Wolfe? A vampire?

  Matt wasn't in much better shape by sundown. He'd showered, dressed, and eaten. The pasta and salad had been as good as promised. He'd tried to work for a few hours, but it was useless.

  His mind couldn't stray far from Wolfe. He went from frightened to turned on to pissed off within minutes, cycling through emotions like a hormonal teenager. He'd spent some time kneeling in Daniel's corner of his bedroom, shocked to realize that the candles had been burning. Only Wolfe could have lit them before he'd left. Matt was sure he'd doused them the day before and, if he hadn't, they would have burned down a lot more by now. But why would Wolfe light the candles? He didn't know Daniel. He didn't know the situation. He still didn't know why Matt wouldn't go out at night. Matt was missing a part of the story here, and Wolfe was the only one who could fill him in.

  He had tried calling Wolfe's cell, not surprised to get voice mail. He didn't bother leaving a message. Wolfe's call log would tell him that Matt called, and Wolfe's own note had indicated that they needed to talk.

  For a few hours, he revisited the sites where he'd gotten what seemed to be the best information on vampires, but they told him nothing new. For each “fact” he saw, he could find other places on the ‘Net that refuted it. He had no better way now of telling what was real and what was fiction than he'd had in the first few months after he'd seen the vampire that had killed Daniel.

  Matt stood at the window in his living room, sipping coffee and watching sunlight fade into night. He wore what he considered to be his frumpiest clothing. Clean, but all of it was baggy. Oversized flannel shirt, the tails of which hung almost to his knees, a pair of faded blue sweatpants, and socks. His hair was pulled back in a tail at the nape of his neck. He had shaved, but other than that and the shower, that was about all he'd done for appearance.

  As the streetlights flickered on, fear started to creep into his bones. Oddly enough, it was tempered by a simmering lust that made his skin tingle. The man who'd brought him more pleasure than any other person in Matt's lifetime might also be a ruthless monster that could kill him. The image just didn't seem right. He knew there were tales of vampires being sensuous, seductive predators, and he knew many of the sexual tales that surrounded the myth, but the sexual side of vampires was just as suspect as the others.