Crying for the Moon

by Sarah Madison

  “Uh-huh.” Tate was sarcastic. “I’m betting ol’ Victor didn’t like it when he realized you were leaving him.”

  Alex’s memory flashed back to the night he told Victor he was leaving and how angry he’d become. If it hadn’t been for the fact that he’d had plans for the evening, Alex suspected the confrontation would have turned ugly. As it was, he’d used Victor’s preoccupation with staving off his perpetual ennui in order to disappear before Victor returned home, having laid the groundwork for his leaving months before. “No,” Alex agreed. “I suspect one day he’ll show up here as well. So, you see, I’m really not a safe person to know. I don’t want to put you in that kind of danger.”

  Tate cocked his head to one side in speculation. “Victor was your first really serious relationship, wasn’t he?”

  Alex frowned, resentment suddenly flaring. Where was Tate going with this? “Yes,” he said shortly. “I’ve been with other people since, though.” Lots of people. Always, however, with the expressed approval of Victor, now that he thought about it. Victor, taking pride in teaching him how to tease, how to bring a casual lover to the height of sensation, how to kill just for the fun of it. For the first time he realized why his parents had never liked Victor, even though he was the embodiment of the Life.

  Tate shrugged. “I’m not trying to make anything out of it. It’s just that it seems to me to have been a rather lopsided relationship. You were young, inexperienced, and had suffered a great loss. In fact, you were all alone. Victor seems to have had all the power.”

  “I still got away in the end.” Alex could feel the glower he aimed at Tate.

  “That’s my point.” Tate looked at him steadily. “You didn’t just leave. You had to get away.”

  Alex had never really thought of it like that before, but Tate was right. It suddenly sickened him to realize he’d let Vic take advantage of him for so long and he wasn’t even aware that was what had been taking place.

  “In the meantime, you need to feed.” Tate’s expression was brightly alert.

  Oh, no. “I’m fine right now, really.” Alex was firm.

  “What happens when you continually deny yourself a live blood meal?” Tate asked. “Does the urge mount until you have to give in, or can you satisfy your needs with a cold, refrigerated bottle of blood? Will a cow do in a pinch, or must it be human?”

  Alex wrinkled his nose. “Feeding off a cow is the vampire equivalent of being vegetarian.” He remembered the metallic smell of Peter’s blood and how it had made him feel ill. “It’s doable but sometimes you just need human blood.”

  Tate gave a little snort. “Okay, so the way I see it is this: You pick up some random stranger and hope you have the self-control not to kill him or her. Alternatively, you could simply kill someone and satisfy your needs, but this town is small enough that someone would catch on sooner or later. Not to mention the whole ‘innocent victim’ thing.”

  “Okay, for what it’s worth,” Alex said testily, “I try very hard only to kill people that I think are a danger to others.”

  “Commendable, to be sure,” Tate said. “Anyone on that list at the moment? No? Then perhaps we should look at what I bring to the table.”

  “No,” Alex said sharply.

  “Is it a matter of you not wanting me for a companion? I can understand that; after all, we barely know each other. That doesn’t preclude you from using me as the equivalent of a fuck buddy, now does it?”

  “Tate.” Alex was desperate. “You don’t know what you’re offering. What you could be giving up.”

  “Let me be the judge of that.” Tate stood up abruptly and beckoned with two fingers. “Come upstairs with me.”

  Against his better instincts, Alex stood and followed as Tate moved toward the stairs.

  Chapter 6

  TATE led the way as they mounted the stairs to the upper level. Topographical maps papered the wall along the staircase. A closer look revealed that they were maps of hikes and climbs, the completed climbs marked with a precise handwriting. Alex found his eye drawn to the flex and pull of material over Tate’s ass as he climbed the stairs ahead of him. Alex couldn’t help but remember how those tight climbing shorts clung to Tate’s body in the photograph on the wall. When they reached the top of the stairs, instead of a traditional floor plan, the entire floor emptied out as one large, open room. Alex paused to glance around in pleased surprise at the space.

  Like the rooms below, it was clean and bright, full of light and open spaces. Bookcases lined all the walls, interspersed with more photos and small windows. In the corners of the room, tall, leafy plants stood from floor to ceiling. A couch sat catty-corner to a low table; on it sat a laptop and a stack of books. A couple of science-fiction novels lay cozily beside a murder mystery and a copy of Anna Karenina. A large Persian rug covered a good bit of the floor.

  Tate walked over to the bed, a wide, metal-framed affair covered with a green and white comforter.

  “This suits you,” Alex said.

  “Thanks. It’s my favorite room.” The smile he gave Alex started out as one of simple pleasure before morphing into something more seductive. He turned to face Alex, crossing his arms in front of him to grab the bottom of his sweater and pull it off over his head. He dropped it to the floor, still smiling at Alex from underneath a curling fringe of hair. His body was toned and muscular, a thing of animal beauty from the arch of a raised collarbone to well-formed shoulders and biceps, to the line of his torso from his shoulder, to the hip bones that barely held up his jeans. His body had less hair than Alex expected. A smattering of reddish-brown hair covered his chest where it tapered to a point over his abdomen before peeking out again over the waistband of his jeans.

  He was utterly perfect, and Alex could not remember wanting anyone so badly before in his life.

  Tate watched him with a smile as he unbuttoned his jeans and stepped out of them, kicking them aside. He was wearing maroon briefs that flattered his package nicely. There was no question of his arousal as Alex noted the hard bulge of Tate’s cock filling out the briefs.

  Alex could feel himself getting harder in response. He could feel the throb and fill in his cock as he moved forward to touch Tate. He had to swallow quickly; he was salivating so much. He felt his teeth elongate in his mouth and the action set up a heady thrumming in his groin. Patience, patience, he told himself, but he wanted nothing more than to throw Tate down on the bed and bite and suck and rut up against him until the feeling inside him burst into the light of a thousand stars. His skin practically crawled with the need to be touching Tate.

  They collided together with force, Tate giving a small snort of laughter that quickly changed to a moan when Alex crushed him up against his body and began to kiss him savagely. He dug his fingers into Tate’s ass, grinding their hips together as their teeth clashed and Alex thrust his tongue into Tate’s mouth.

  The heat. The heat. He needed the heat. He pulled his lips away from Tate’s mouth to give sharp little nips to the side of his neck, licking and sucking until he left a series of marks. The sight of the blood rising up underneath Tate’s fair, freckled skin, leaving a dark red bruise with each bite, made Alex practically insane with need.

  It wasn’t just him, however. Tate was clutching back, rubbing himself against Alex, and practically purring as Alex’s leather jacket pulled across his skin. He tipped his head back in a mindless arc under Alex’s touch, inviting the killing bite without even realizing it. Alex felt as though he could sink his teeth into that rich flesh and feed without restriction, that Tate would give himself up willingly, completely, and the thought frightened and excited him.

  Shoving Tate back a little ruthlessly, Alex began to strip off his clothes.

  Tate looked a little dazed. “Oh. Good idea.” He smiled at Alex. It was a smile full of promise. Alex was conscious of Tate’s intense observation as he toed off his boots, discarding his jacket, sweater, and jeans with efficiency.

  “You are so amazing,”
Tate murmured as Alex stripped down to his briefs. He slid his hands down his belly, rolling them over the skin sensuously, as though Tate couldn’t go another moment without some kind of touch on his body.

  Alex stepped forward and reached past Tate to toss back the comforter before pushing him down onto the soft mattress, following closely behind. Tate, predictably, fell to the mattress with a laugh, and he was still smiling when Alex began kissing him again.

  Time. We’ve got time, Alex reminded himself, but he knew it wasn’t true. He was conscious of the movement of the sun across the sky and knew that night was coming. He saw the two of them together, taking their time and exploring each other endlessly, night after night, and it made him growl as he pushed Tate down and covered him with his body.

  Alex planted his mouth against Tate’s skin, rolling his face against Tate’s belly, nipping and licking his way down until he could smell the musky scent of Tate through his briefs.

  Tate’s cock throbbed upward as though searching for a way out and seeking the sanctuary of Alex’s mouth. He could feel the wetness of pre-come leaking through the cloth; he mouthed Tate’s balls through the material and felt Tate’s groan resonate deep within his own groin. He lifted his head to ghost his breath over Tate’s skin, moving up his body toward Tate’s neck again.

  “Wait,” Tate said suddenly, and Alex felt a chill descend upon him. He wasn’t sure he could wait any longer.

  “Do we need to grab a towel or something?” Tate looked around vaguely at all the bedding. “I mean, are we going to make a bloody mess here?”

  “I won’t waste a single drop,” Alex said in all seriousness, his voice rasping with the effort of control.

  Tate’s pupils dilated abruptly. “Well, come on, then,” he invited.

  Alex bent his head to give a nipple a flick of his tongue.

  Tate writhed and arched obediently. Smiling, Alex pressed his lips to that small peak and nuzzled gently, mouthing his way all around the edges before suckling the tip. Tate’s hands found their way into the back of Alex’s hair, fingers slowly scratching his scalp.

  Alex reached out, taking hold of the opposite nipple and rolling it between his fingers as he applied firmer pressure to the one in his mouth. Tate’s nails dug into his scalp and then his hands shifted to Alex’s shoulders as Tate arched up with a cry.

  “Yes,” Tate said. “God, yes. Harder. Harder!” He pressed his heels down into the bed, pushing his chest up into Alex’s mouth. His cock strained upward, pushing against the briefs in a bid to be part of the action.

  Alex bit down sharply, still taking care not to draw blood yet. Tate bucked and groaned anyway. The sharp dig of Tate’s nails lit Alex up with excitement; he could feel the pulsing heat under Tate’s skin. Without looking, he reached down and pulled off Tate’s briefs, Tate shifting his weight and raising each leg one at a time to help the process along before lying back on the bed and spreading his thighs wide. Alex continued to bite and suck at Tate’s nipples, alternating between one and the other as he slid his hand down and took hold of Tate’s cock.

  He felt Tate’s entire body shudder as his fingers wrapped around Tate’s shaft. He pumped his hand up and down slowly, and then brought his palm up to his mouth to lick it thoroughly before taking hold of Tate again. Tate watched him with half-closed eyes until Alex took a nipple back in his mouth again. Tate twisted beneath him, making wordless cries that mounted in pitch as Alex jacked him faster and teased his flesh in his mouth, only to subside when Alex shifted his attention from his nipple to the soft skin of his belly.

  Tate pulled his legs in toward his chest, spreading his thighs at the same time. His cock bounced with the movement as he grabbed his knees and pulled them farther apart. Alex could see the want in Tate’s eyes, knew where he was begging to be touched. “Lube in the side drawer,” Tate growled. “For fuck’s sake, grab some.”

  Pausing only to open the drawer of the bedside table and slick his fingers with lube, Alex circled Tate’s hole, feeling it flutter and pucker at the touch, while he continued to suck and bite at Tate’s skin.

  Time and again, he could feel the mounting surge of the orgasm inside Tate. He let it build to the point that it threatened to crest over before letting it subside again, like a wave rolling back out to the sea. Tate became more vocal with each pass, his thighs taut with tension, alternating between holding his legs apart and fisting the sheets. The tension was rising in Alex as well, his vision becoming red around the edges with the pressure of holding back. His cock ached in sympathy. He slid his fingers into Tate’s body, pumping them in and out gently, loving the feel of warmth and tightness, and picturing it around his cock, even as he continued to slowly jack Tate.

  Tate’s eyes suddenly opened. His pupils were so wide his eyes appeared almost black with just a rim of yellow topaz visible. His need was obvious. “Bite me,” he growled at Alex. “Come on; just do it. Do it now.”

  Alex’s teeth snapped down to full length and he let go of Tate’s cock to launch himself at his neck, thrusting his fingers up into Tate’s body hard as he did so. He found the jugular easily, sinking his teeth in with a vicious glee. Tate arched back with a sharp cry, shuddering and jerking as he came. Alex could feel the walls of Tate’s ass gripping his fingers, squeezing them hard. The warm, salty rush of blood filled his mouth with a coppery tang that almost made him come himself. Everyone had their own taste, just as everyone had their own scent, but Tate’s blood was like an old, expensive wine, full bodied and rich, going to Alex’s head like a drug. It was like nothing he’d ever experienced before, and he found himself testing the nuances of flavor he found there. He sucked with long, pulsing pulls, continuing to stimulate Tate’s ass with his hand. Tate’s cock pulsed and jerked without either of them touching it at all.

  Tate’s orgasm rolled over him in waves, little aftershocks appearing even as Alex lifted his mouth from Tate’s neck and watched with satisfaction as the puncture marks sealed over. He licked up the thin trickle of blood that ran down toward Tate’s collarbone. Finally, he felt Tate collapse and go boneless underneath him. He withdrew his fingers and leaned back on his elbow with a smile.

  Tate began to chuckle. Alex raised an eyebrow as Tate opened his eyes halfway, saw Alex’s expression, and began to laugh harder.

  “Laughter is not the reaction I usually get,” Alex said.

  Tate struggled to contain his amusement, but it bubbled out of him again.

  Alex smiled back, uncertain how he should be feeling about this. He thought that Tate was simply showing uninhibited pleasure at what they’d just experienced together, but he wasn’t entirely sure just the same. He was starting to feel a little uncomfortable when Tate pushed at Alex with one foot as he tried to wipe the smile off his face.

  “First of all,” he said, when he finally got the laughter under control, “I’m laughing because you made me feel really, really good. Trust me: this is a good reaction.” He chuckled some more. “I just can’t believe I told you to ‘bite me’!”

  Alex felt a self-conscious smile sneak across his features. “Well, okay—when you put it like that.”

  Tate rolled up easily, pressing Alex down on the mattress and leaning over him with a feral grin. He reached across to the bedside table, grabbing a small washcloth from a stack near the reading lamp, and tossed it to Alex. “Now, it’s your turn.”

  Alex was surprised. Most of his previous lovers were wiped out from a feeding experience and the orgasm that came with it. Tate seemed almost energized by it. He wiped his fingers slowly, letting the washcloth drop to the floor, wondering how it was that Tate was prepared for the messy side of sex and how many lovers he’d had. He supposed he should have asked, but it was not something that usually troubled vampires.

  “That’s really not necessary,” Alex said, touching the side of Tate’s face gently. “Really, I’m okay. More than okay. You gave me everything I needed.” And more.

  “Did you really get off on the act of drinking my
blood? Or are you saying that just to be polite? Don’t you want me to touch you?” Tate slid one hand down Alex’s abdomen, pushing down the line of dark hair, where it disappeared into his briefs. He splayed his fingers over Alex’s cock and palmed him through the cotton material. “You seem pretty hard to me. So what is it?”

  Alex felt his thighs tip open of their own accord. “Maybe there was just a little bit of being polite there. But really, it’s different for me.”

  “Different?” Tate looked delightfully interested. He continued to stroke a thumb slowly over Alex’s cock head. His own cock was still mostly erect, and if cocks could be said to have an expression, his seemed smug. “How so?”

  Alex hitched his shoulder in a little half-shrug. “I don’t come very often. It’s no big deal, really.”

  Tate pulled his hand languorously up Alex’s body, fingers flexing and stretching as he pushed his hand along Alex’s skin. It was as if he couldn’t help touching Alex, as though he was unaware that he was doing so.

  It felt amazingly good.

  “So is this ‘different because I’m a vampire’ different, or ‘different because I’m Alex’ different?”

  “How would I know?” Alex said, aware that he sounded a shade cross. “I’ve always been a vampire.”

  “What I meant,” Tate said, pausing to plant a butterfly kiss on Alex’s belly, “is whether or not it’s different when you're with another vampire. Is it?”

  Alex thought back to the time that he spent with Victor. “To be honest, I’m more likely to come when I’m with a stranger than a vampire,” he admitted. “I’m not sure what that says about me.”

  “Maybe it says you’ve had selfish lovers in the past.” Tate smirked.