by Kallysten
She shook her head, and he knew she would argue with him until she was blue in the face, so he explained right away.
“Simon will throw a shield over us. A glamour, he called it. He doesn’t think he can cover more than three people so we—”
“He’s done a glamour to hide a lot more than three people,” Kate protested before he could finish. “He’s much stronger than that.”
“He is,” Marc conceded. “Here. He’s not sure his magic will be as strong on the other side. He’s not even sure magic works the same way there. Jen said it’s sometimes different. He might be able to disguise more than three people, but he doesn’t want to take that risk.”
Marc had made sure to plant that thought in Simon’s mind until Simon had all but been convinced a three-person limit was his own idea, but Marc wasn’t about to admit that now.
“But…” Kate shook her head, dismay written on her features. “What if you need help? What if Jen is lying and betrays you again? What if you can’t come back here for some reason and—”
“Come back?”
Marc and Kate both started and turned at once toward the strident words. Blake stood a few feet away, a hand pressed to the wall like he needed support.
“Come back from where?” he asked, a little too loudly, and it sounded as though he already knew the answer to his own question. “And why, why would you go anywhere with Jen?”
Marc’s throat tightened when no good answer presented itself. This wasn’t good. Not good at all.
* * * *
Kate didn’t know whether to be relieved or sorry that her shoe-in-the-door trick had allowed Blake to sneak up on them like this. On the one hand, if Marc really intended to do this, Blake had to know—she was convinced of it. In Blake’s fragile state, Marc unexpectedly running off with Jen had the potential to shatter Blake’s mind again. This, however, was not the way she would have chosen to tell him about Marc’s plan.
Her fingers were still entwined with Marc’s. She gave them a squeeze before letting go and standing to approach Blake. Marc was only a step behind her.
“Calm down,” she said in what she hoped was a soothing tone; it was hard to tell when she herself was upset. “Blake, please, just listen to him explain.”
She turned an encouraging look toward Marc, but before he could say a word, Blake spoke again.
“I don’t want to listen. I don’t want to hear any of it. I know why he’d do something so stupid. The same reason as always. Those damn Pacts and—”
“No.”
That one word, in Marc’s low, deep voice, seemed to bounce off the walls of the bedroom and reverberate all around them. Blake had told Kate about the Pacts and Marc’s belief that vampires had a grander purpose in protecting humans. She had thought it was noble—she still did—but she would never have believed Marc would go to the demon dimension for that reason. It was much simpler. Why couldn’t Blake see it?
She brushed the back of her hand over Blake’s arm, trying to soothe him, whether with touch or words.
“That’s not why he’s doing it, Blake. Don’t you see?”
But Blake was staring at her, his expression blank. As for Marc, rather than explaining, he was standing there, sullen and silent.
Kate wanted to roll her eyes at both of them. They were hopeless. Honestly, sometimes she wondered how they had managed before she met them.
“Oh for—” Swallowing a curse, Kate shook her head and said through gritted teeth, “He wants to do this because that’s the place where you were hurt. Those are the demons who hurt you, and they’re hurting other people the same way. That’s why he wants to go there. For you. To avenge you.” She turned a frown toward Marc. “Am I anywhere close?”
Marc blinked before looking at Kate. He still didn’t say anything, but at least he gave a stiff nod.
In response, Blake snorted. “Right. Avenge me. Because it’ll make me feel so much better when you get killed or…or…”
His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down and he didn’t finish, but his meaning was quite clear. Kate continued to stroke his arm, though he barely seemed to notice.
“I’m not going to get myself killed,” Marc said quietly. “And yes, I do think it’ll make you feel better to know that they can’t hurt you anymore. Not ever again.”
“It’ll make me feel better?” Blake snorted. “No. It’ll make you feel better for not coming for me when I was in that prison. And I’m telling you: I don’t want you to go. I don’t need you to go.”
Kate’s heart felt like a steel fist was tightening around it. Her eyes filled with tears. Couldn’t Marc hear the same pain—the same fear—that she heard in Blake’s words? Couldn’t he sense Blake’s true meaning as clearly as she could?
I don’t need you to go, was what he said, but to Kate it sounded like, I need you not to go. They’d been asking him to tell them what he needed from them for so long, and here it was—if Marc would only listen. But when Kate blinked the tears away and looked at Marc, he seemed less than convinced.
“I just think,” he started, but Blake interrupted him immediately.
“I’ll show you,” Blake said, his words shaking just like his fingers did on the buttons of his own shirt. “You don’t have to do it. I’m fine. I’ll prove it to you.”
Kate wished she didn’t know how he planned to make his point.
Chapter 16
“I’ll prove it to you,” Blake said again, and for all the determination that filled his words, Marc couldn’t fathom what he meant by that.
He started to understand soon enough.
Blake’s shirt fell first. Next, in one fluid movement, Blake whipped his t-shirt over his head. Already his hands—his shaky hands—were dropping to the fastenings of his pants.
“You’re going to fuck me,” he continued in an undertone. “And I’ll prove to you I’m better now.”
Marc’s throat tightened, and he started to raise his hand to still Blake, but he couldn’t make himself complete the gesture when he didn’t how his touch would be received.
“You don’t have to do that,” he said urgently. “Blake, you don’t have anything to prove. Not to me and not to anyone else.”
He glanced at Kate for help, but she was watching Blake intently, and she didn’t notice.
“Maybe I want to prove it to myself,” Blake said, and now the gleam in his eyes was pure defiance.
It felt like having the old Blake back, and a surge of something not unlike joy swept through Marc. He had been waiting for a long time to see his Childe return to his old ways again. At the same time, though, Marc couldn’t quite believe it; or rather, he wouldn’t let himself believe. Too often, he had wanted to see progress in Blake’s mental state, only to be proved wrong with one more relapse; every time, the shattered hope tore at his heart a little more.
Blake stepped out of his clothes and pushed them away with his foot. He stood there for a few seconds, hands at his sides and his semi-hard cock twitching to life, then started to reach for Marc.
“No,” Marc said, pulling away even when every fiber of his being was clamoring for Blake’s touch.
“Are you saying you do not want to fuck me?” Blake asked, each word enunciated with cool precision.
Marc glanced at Kate again. She still hadn’t said anything, and Marc couldn’t begin to make sense of her expression, or of her tangled scent. For that matter, he wasn’t sure what he felt, except for the fear that this would end with another shattering setback for Blake.
“I do want you,” Marc said slowly. “But not like this. Not when you’re just trying to make a point.”
“When, then?” Blake’s eyes were burning with an angry fire. “When you’re locked in a demon cell? Will it be all right to show you I feel better, then?”
Marc began to protest that he wouldn’t be captured, but Blake wasn’t listening. Instead, he turned to Kate and reached out for her the same way he had tried to reach for Marc. She stepped back like Marc had, shakin
g her head weakly.
“You, too?” Blake said, pain dripping from his words. “I thought you wanted—”
“I do,” she cut in, catching his hand as he started to lower it. “But I don’t want to be used. You only turned to me because Marc said no and that’s not—”
Blake interrupted her with a kiss rather than words. He tugged on her hand, drawing her close to him and pressing his mouth to hers in a hard kiss. When he pulled back after a few seconds, Kate let out a little sound of loss that went straight to Marc’s dick. She had waited for this, for Blake to finally reach for her first; Marc had waited right along with her.
“Does this feel like I only want you because he won’t have me?” Blake asked, his voice low and rough.
Kate shook her head. Her gaze turned to Marc for a second or two, maybe seeking his approval or forgiveness, then she looked at Blake again and leaned in for another kiss. Marc bit the inside of his mouth rather than say anything to interrupt them; he clenched his hands into fists rather than reach out and intrude. But God, how much he wanted to join them…
* * * *
With anger rushing through Blake’s veins like lava, burning and incandescent, fear didn’t have a chance to take hold of him. He kissed Kate with no apprehension about punishment, the first time in months—centuries—that he had kissed her without her initiating the kiss first.
That kiss began as proof to Marc, but something shifted inside Blake at the warmth of Kate’s lips, the sweetness of her touch even as he invaded her mouth with his tongue. He had missed this, missed her. When she kissed him back, all thought of proving anything to anyone fled Blake’s mind. He wanted Kate and she wanted him; for now that was all that mattered.
Kate’s arms wove around him, holding him tightly against her. Even through her clothes, the heat of her body was scorching. Blake wanted more, though. More than a kiss that was sometimes slow and sweet and sometimes fierce and frantic, more than the feel of her hands on his back or the softness of her hair against his fingertips. Sliding his hands between them, he started to work open the fastening of her pants, soon abandoning that task for the buttons of her shirt instead. He might have torn one or two in his haste to undress her; he didn’t care, and she didn’t seem to mind, either.
Removing her t-shirt and sports bra meant that they had to break the kiss. As she stood in front of him, bare from the waist up, her breasts heaving with panting breaths, her eyes darkened by lust and her mouth swollen from their kiss, Blake froze. Memories of her broken, bleeding body were trying to rise to the surface of his mind and spoil the moment. He glanced at Marc behind her; part of Blake expected to find anger on his Master’s face. Instead, all he could see was need, the same need inscribed on Kate’s features. Blake shoved back the memories that had no place in this room, locked them away in the darkest corner of his mind, and focused on Kate again. Marc—yes, Marc, not his Master—would join them when he was ready, or when he stopped being such an idiot.
“Kiss me,” Kate pleaded.
Blake immediately drew her to him again, crushing her body to his and his mouth to hers. She caressed his arms and back while he tried to divest her of her pants again, but his fingers felt nerveless and he wasn’t making much progress.
Marc came closer, and his arms encircled Kate from behind. His hands joined Blake’s and helped him unbuckle her belt before guiding her pants and panties down her legs. As she stepped out of them, Blake pulled back and watched her—watched them, with Marc’s arm around Kate’s naked body and his chest pressed to her back. The position was possessive yet intimate, and both their faces invited Blake to join them again. Blake was about to do just that when another wave of memories threatened to rise in him again. He blinked twice and pushed the images away.
“Get in bed for me,” Kate asked in a silky whisper.
Blake was trembling as he climbed in; he couldn’t have said whether it was from desire or the lingering memories. He lay in the middle of the bed, propped up against the pillows, and watched Kate move to the foot of the bed before she joined him.
“I’ve wanted to do this for ages.” She gave him an impish look as she slid upward to settle between his parted legs. She licked her lips as she took hold of Blake’s cock in her hot, little hand. Another flash of a smile made Blake groan—and the soft touch of her mouth to the tip of his cock drew an even louder moan from him.
Blake’s hands fisted in the sheets as her tongue trailed up and down his dick. He wanted to watch her, but if he did, it would all end very fast. He closed his eyes tight and tried to breathe; as useless as air was to him, the in and out still helped to calm his body sometimes. And it would have worked this time, too, if a cooler mouth hadn’t suddenly joined Kate’s, sucking when she licked, biting gently when she blew warm air along his shaft.
A wordless, grunting sound clawed its way out of Blake’s throat, and his body jerked even as his hands flew to both his lovers’ heads.
“No, stop, don’t…”
They both stilled at once and looked up, the same worry in their eyes: worry that they’d gone too far and pushed Blake beyond what he could take—which was true, but not the way they feared.
“Too much,” he tried to explain, panting. “I don’t want this to end too fast.”
He could still see the uncertainty on their faces, the doubt that he might be lying—again. It was easy enough to show them that wasn’t the case. He reached for Kate with both hands and drew her upward, kissing her once briefly, then again after he had rolled her over so she rested against the pillows. She made a quiet sound that was part relief, part pleasure as he pressed kisses against her chin, her cheek, and down her neck. As he lay down by her side, his hand traveled over her of its own accord, cupping her breasts, brushing against the scar on her lower stomach, caressing every inch of heated skin he could reach. It wasn’t long before Marc’s hand joined his, sometimes following Blake’s touch, sometimes offering a counterpoint. Kate started to writhe against them, pleas for more falling from her lips in between kisses.
Raising his head to look at Kate’s eyes, so dark and shiny, Blake whispered against her lips, “Can I make love to you?”
Kate’s eyes filled with tears. “Yes.” She nodded almost frantically. “I want you so bad it hurts,” she said, half sobbing, her hips rising off the bed as though to find friction.
A flash of white blinded him at her last word, but he clung to the here and now. He kissed her again as his body slipped between her welcoming legs. The heat of her core guided him, and slowly, with no thought other than the certainty that she wanted this, Blake pushed his way inside her body. They both sighed when he was in as far as he could go and broke the kiss to share a smile. Kate’s arms and legs wrapped tightly around Blake, and she held him close, allowing only enough space for minute rocking motions of their bodies. It wasn’t enough for either of them to reach an orgasm, but the closeness was such that Blake’s throat tightened and his eyes prickled.
Marc knelt next to them, still watching, leaning down occasionally to brush kisses over Blake’s shoulder or Kate’s temple, caressing them in turns with the tips of his fingers as though afraid to disrupt their rhythm. Even when he let out a choked, “You’re beautiful. Both of you,” it was in such a quiet voice that they could have ignored him, had they chosen to. But Kate heard him, and she turned her face to offer him a smile, reached out for his hand, and brought it to her lips for a kiss.
Blake heard, too, although in his mind the words had an entirely different meaning. There were things he and Marc had never said to each other, things they would never voice, but that didn’t make them any less true.
Marc loved him—loved them. That knowledge was a gift.
As Blake started rocking a little deeper in and out of Kate, he asked Marc in a gravelly voice, “Are you just going to watch, or are you going to join us?”
Marc’s hesitation was obvious, but it didn’t last. He rose from the bed and finally undressed. Both Blake and Kate watched a
s he fisted his hard cock and gave it a few tugs. His gaze, dark and hungry, travelled between them like he didn’t know where to look.
“Where’s the lube?”
Blake’s hips jerked forward, drawing a moan from both his and Kate’s lips when he hit a particularly sweet spot.
“Forget the lube,” Blake grunted. “Just get on with it or we’ll finish without you.”
But Marc was undeterred. He searched the bedside table, his travel bag, and finally Blake’s, increasingly frantic until he finally found what he was looking for. The cap made a small ‘snick’ sound when Marc flicked it open. Blake shuddered, then again when Kate looped her arms around his neck and drew him down, so close that when she said, “I love you,” her lips brushed against his mouth with every word. Blake kissed her gently, even chastely for all that his dick was deep within her. When he pulled back, she said the words again, but this time included Marc, too.
“I love you both so, so much.”
Blake nuzzled her neck as Marc’s hand ran up and down his spine. Blake returned the words—to them both, if Marc only would hear them.
“Love you, too.”
Fingers slick with lube, Marc pressed against Blake’s opening until one finger slid in, excruciatingly slowly. Blake understood the reason Marc was being so careful; it had been a long time since Blake had had anyone inside him. Just the same, there was such a thing as excessive caution. Blake bucked back against Marc’s hand, forcing that tentative finger deeper inside him and wishing he could have more already.
“Always in such a hurry, Childe,” Marc whispered, a smile teasing at the edge of his words. “Haven’t I taught you patience?”
You’ll learn patience, boy.
The voice echoing in Blake’s mind was the same as the one sliding like a caress along his back, but the latter was welcome, while the first was not. He pushed away the echo and the memories it carried, and moved toward the finger teasing him.