by Willa Okati
“Doubt it.” Bree touched his throat wound and held up a hand smeared with crimson. “Looks to me like someone made a prior claim.”
Lucifer snickered. Odd, but that was the first time Bree felt anything even close to creeped out. “Only for a while,” Old Scratch muttered, settling back in his throne of skulls. “I can wait millennia for you to come back and be my toy.”
“Yeah, well, that’s gonna be then, isn’t it? Right now -- screw you.” Bree paused. “Come back? So I’m not here to stay?”
“Ignorance is among your sins, fool. No.” Satan’s clawed hand clenched into a fist. “You are not come to be my prize yet. Not just yet.”
“Hot damn!”
“Is that supposed to be funny?”
“Not so much. I’m going back, then, huh?” Bree grinned and folded his arms across his chest. “Julian’s making good on his word, then. I’m coming back in style.”
“A vampire. Creature of the night. Blood-drinker. Eater of souls.”
“Yeah, yeah, damned forever, shut out from the light of God, whatever. I read Dracula; I’ve got the memo. You want to let me be on my way now, or what?”
Satan eyed him. “Answer one question first.”
Bree eyed the Devil right back, then shrugged. Why not? “Go ahead. Ask me.”
“Are your balls truly bigger than your brains?”
Bree exploded into laughter. Peals of sheer mirth, a sound no doubt altogether foreign in Hell, echoed around him as Lucifer bared his teeth, made a gesture with one horned hand, and Hell went pitch black as he left it behind him for whatever came next. As a vampire, he might be damned now, if he believed everything Julian had said, and he figured that was why he’d taken a trip to Hell in the first place. All the same, it wasn’t time for him to stay there. Yet.
He felt himself falling again, but upward this time. Up and up and up, like a balloon on acid. Best free-fall ever. If it didn’t mean going back down to talk with Old Ugly, he’d want to do it again. But then, he had a few other things on his mind. Landing with a soft thump back in his body, Bree felt his lips crooking up at the corners.
Felt like he’d been laid out on Julian’s bed, arms folded like a corpse’s. He sensed the weight of a man sitting beside him, then felt a cool hand gently combing through his hair. “Have you returned?” Julian whispered. “Come now, Bree. Wake for me. Open your eyes to this brave new world.”
Fuck, yeah.
Bree snapped his eyelids open. The world jumped into sharp focus, blazing with colors never before so intense or alive. He felt cold, but wasn’t worried about it. He knew his heart didn’t beat and that he wasn’t breathing, but he didn’t care. As he ran his tongue over his teeth, he grinned at the mouthful of wicked fangs he found, but didn’t give those a second thought, either.
He turned his head to the side and saw Julian, still more monster than man, grinning at him like twelve kinds of a fool in what appeared to be total satisfaction. “I knew you would be strong enough.”
“Takes more than death to keep a bastard like me down.”
Julian’s beautiful eyes glowed. “May it ever be so.”
“Yeah. Hey, Julian? Something I wanna take care of right quick. You mind?”
Julian looked puzzled, but shook his head. Bree bared his teeth in a grin he knew would have sent anyone else screaming. “You asked for it,” he said softly.
Then, he moved. And fuck, could he ever move now! Faster than good old Superman and those god-damned speeding bullets of his, faster than the speed of light, and, as he’d hoped, too fast for even Julian to track. Not pausing for one moment’s consideration, Bree launched himself off the bed and tackled Julian by the stomach, knocking them both to the floor.
Without a word, he punched Julian in the face as hard as all his new strength allowed. Didn’t even leave a mark, but fuck, was it ever satisfying.
“That’s for killing me,” Bree said. “Now, let me take this opportunity to thank you for pretty much the same thing.”
Julian blinked. Then he began to laugh. “I knew,” he managed between whoops of giggles -- giggles! -- “I knew you would be a vampire worthy of the name, no matter how you tried to lie to yourself and to me!”
“Oh, yeah. Love these fangs. Wicked sharp. You mind if I play?”
“It depends. What game did you have in mind?”
“Well, pretty soon, tracking down someone young, hot, and healthy, preferably not pumped up on steroids, and having dinner for three. So to speak. Right now, though, I’m thinking I want to go for a little ‘turnabout is fair play.’”
Julian grinned, savage and beautiful. “Oh, do you, now?”
“Damn right. You gonna tell me no?”
“I would not dream of it.”
“Good vampire.” Bree bent to kiss Julian. He didn’t bother being gentle, and neither did his maker. Their fangs nipped at each other’s mouths, delicate nibbles that closed within seconds, but not before they got a small taste of blood. Bree savored the rich, salty, coppery fluid on his tongue. Might have made him gag when he was mortal, but now? Better than Russian vodka, besides giving him a buzz just like diving off a bridge.
Yeah, he’d fallen from grace. Then again, Bree figured he’d never been in too good with the Guy Upstairs, and if this was to be his fate, damn him all over again if he didn’t plan to enjoy it.
Really enjoy it.
The hard-on he’d sported down in Hell had come back with him. Felt different now, hard as if carved from stone, swollen stiff despite a lack of blood and, oh, so ready to play. He rubbed against Julian like a tomcat in heat. Julian groaned, lifting his hips to press against Bree’s. Bree slipped down to bite at Julian’s nipples, leaving circles of teeth marks that bled sluggishly in fucking gorgeous kaleidoscope patterns.
Julian’s cock also rose to the occasion. He arched and writhed beneath Bree, releasing devil-cries and cursing in a language Bree didn’t know. Maybe no one else alive spoke it. Didn’t matter, though. He got the point. No translation was needed for “Want to fuck. Fuck now!”
“Plan on it,” Bree growled. He tore at Julian’s pants, shredding them off as easily as ripping a Kleenex into pieces. Bared his maker’s cock, stiff and proud, cold and steely hard when Bree put his hand around the thing. “But I figure you owe me this one.”
Julian howled out in apparent bliss at Bree’s touch. Yet his voice retained a touch of laughter when he asked, “You think yourself vampire enough to top me already?”
“Don’t think,” Bree said, baring his fangs. “Know.”
Without a second’s hesitation, Julian brought his bare legs up to lock around the small of Bree’s back. “Go on, then,” he whispered. “Show me your power, Bree.”
“Guess we don’t need lube.”
Julian flashed fangs at him. “What do you think?”
“I suspect vampires like it rough.” Bree slipped a hand between himself and Julian, angled his cock just right, and pushed forward with all his strength. He felt his cock pop past a forever-tight ring of muscle and deep into Julian’s ass.
Good. Really, really damned good.
Bree worked Julian’s cock with an iron fist, pumping it up and down, hard and fast, even as he lunged in and out of his lover’s ass like a fucking sex machine, all the while listening to Julian scream out his pleasure. He raised his own voice in a bellow of holy-fucking-hallelujah bliss.
They could have gone on forever, but Bree figured they did have other things to do, after all. He moved his hand just right, tugging on Julian’s balls just as he thrust deep into that tight back channel. Then, he just ... let go, as easily as he’d said goodbye to his mortal life, and poured out his first immortal orgasm deep inside Julian’s rectum
Holy. Fucking. Hell. Waves of pure black light rolled over Bree in thick flashes. Every muscle in his body spasmed with ecstasy, contracting into hard knots of agony and bliss. For all that, he still felt it when Julian came, arching high and hard, spilling gouts of semen over Bree’s hand. Both of them let
out screams fit for creatures born in Hell.
Coming down wasn’t like it had been before. No boneless, helpless, sweaty flop over his partner’s body. Adrenaline, the taste of blood, and a new surge of extra power kept Bree upright, a grin blazing around his fangs, as he pulled out.
“So,” he said. “Still think I’m worth the trouble?”
Julian laughed. Not the tired laugh of a man who’d just come hard enough to turn his world upside down and inside out, who should be brain-dead from his mind being blown all to pieces. No, his sound was vibrant with the wild, wicked energy and glee of his kind. Their kind.
“Trouble? Bree, you will never be anything but trouble. Now, and ever after. Why do you think I chose you? Not just because I knew you would make a vampire that could face down Lucifer himself, but because I knew you would put me to the test in everything.”
“Yeah? So what’s my final score?”
“Full marks.” Julian reached up to stroke Bree’s cheek, fingernails trailing light scratches down his newly scaly skin. The pain was pure bliss. “We’ll make this city our own, Bree.”
“Yeah? Maybe later. I’d rather eat, fuck, and maybe fuck again. Then we can see about world domination, Pinky.” Bree grinned savagely. “Speaking of eating, you want to get up, find us some clothes, and take me out hunting already? I got a good few tastes in while we were rutting, but I want more. A lot more.”
“Hookers have a good flavor.” Julian sighed and stretched like a happy cat. A happy, horny, saber-toothed tiger in the moonlight. “Let me up, and we’ll do that very thing. You think like one of our kind already, Bree. You make me proud.”
“Whatever. Food, fuck, lather, rinse, repeat, okay? We can talk about ‘proud’ later.”
Julian lifted them both off the floor so easily, Bree knew he’d been letting Bree dominate earlier. Playing along. No big deal. He’d be strong enough soon for a fair fight. He figured Julian knew as much, too.
Bree watched Julian’s gorgeous vampire ass stride away from him toward a dark wardrobe he just knew would be full of really fucking great gear. He leered at his new lover, running his tongue over his fangs, already making plans for their next roll between the sheets -- or on the floor, up against a wall. He wasn’t picky.
“Do you plan to tell your friends?” Julian asked with a casualness Bree could tell right off was feigned “Show them what you’ve become?”
Bree frowned. Not that he minded his changeover one bit, nor would he go back for all the world and a guaranteed spot in Heaven, but he didn’t really want to freak out the Brotherhood with his new look. They were mortal, lesser creatures than him now, but they’d treated him okay. “You got any more fancy masking tricks up your sleeve -- the kind you used to hide your real face earlier? I could use one of them now, I think.”
Julian turned back, arms full of leather pants and vests. His gorgeous eyes sparkled. He smiled, his features melting back into that of a mortal’s. Smooth and even. He handed the clothes off to Bree, then bent to kiss him, a light brush on Bree’s own monster mouth.
“Fuck!” Bree jerked back. Didn’t hurt, but felt strange as all hell, like cool water washing over him. When he reached up to touch his skin, his face and begrudging grin felt as normal as Julian’s. “You’re teaching me how to do that, you know.”
“Am I?”
“You bet your ass.”
“You’d wager an ass as good as mine? I wouldn’t bet yours for a fortune in gold. Not after I’ve waited so long to find my perfect mate.” Julian grinned, licking his lips. “Next time, Bree, it’s my turn. I’ll fuck stars into your eyes.”
“Fair’s fair, and I know I’ll get my share of you, as well.” Bree smiled back, savage and hungry. Not how he’d planned his day to turn out, or what he’d expected out of life, but hell if he wasn’t taking it all and then some, all he could get his hands on. No more masks. No more lies.
He was Bree at last.
“Come on, Julian. Let’s go play.”
Willa Okati
Although a relative newcomer to the field of e-publishing, Willa Okati has been writing since before she was old enough to pick up a pen. She thinks she knows where those dictated stories are hidden, but she'll never tell.
Willa is also very interested in the paranormal: magery, Wicca, New Age philosophy, transgender studies, and of course, writing. You can drag her away from the computer if you really fight, but you'd better be prepared for a battle.
Just so she doesn't sound entirely dull, Willa has her fun: she is a practicing member of the SCA (Society for Creative Anachronism) and is involved in her community. She is owned by far too many cats, all of which have serious attitudes, and addicted to anything made out of chocolate or involving coffee. She is quiet, but has a very wicked sense of humor that springs out when you least expect it.
A secretary for eight years, she now writes full-time -- and wouldn't trade it for the world.
She loves to hear from readers, and always responds. You can contact her at [email protected] or visit her website to check out her work at http://www.willsheornillshe.com.
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Read on for a tantalizing glimpse of
Spindrift
by Jules Jones
Available Now from Loose Id
Spindrift
I woke the next morning to an unfamiliar weight and warmth next to me in the bed. It was some time since I'd taken anyone to this particular bed, so I didn't have trouble remembering that it wasn't a lover I was sharing it with now.
Niall didn't seem to share that view of himself. As I stirred sleepily, he rolled on top of me, his erection rubbing against me.
“Niall!” I spluttered, trying to fend him off.
He looked as bewildered as I felt. “But I thought you liked men?”
So it was deliberate. I shouldn't have had to think about this when I was still half asleep, and when my body was remembering of its own accord that I'd just spent the night in bed with an attractive man. “I like men. But I don't like taking advantage of people.” Though there seemed to be some room for doubt as to who was taking advantage of whom -- Niall was refusing to shift and was bigger than me. “You don't have to do this.” The image of those silkie women of legend haunted me. Niall, insisting on doing the washing up last night ... “Niall, I took you in because Jock asked me to. Not because I expect anything in return.”
“I know,” he said, and bent down to kiss me briefly. “That's why I want you.”
“Niall, are you gay?”
“There are people I like and people I don't like. Does it matter if they're man or woman?”
Not a straight answer, but as much of an answer as I was likely to get, I suspected. Did it matter, as long as he was doing this because he wanted to rather than because he felt he should?
“Richard, I want to do this.” He was unbuttoning my pyjama top as he said it, making it clear with deed as well as words. “I'll stop if you don't want it, but can you say that you don't?” He slid one hand down to squeeze my erect cock through my pyjama trousers.
All I could think of was how good it felt, and how much better it would feel without cloth in the way. I knew I shouldn't be doing this, but Niall was doing his damnedest to convince me that I should, and there's only so much temptation a man can resist. I put my arms around him, pulling him down against me, enjoying the feel of his hard, fit body along the length of mine.
“That's better,” he said before kissing me again. He tasted slightly of salt, which must have been my imagination, considering his attempt to drain the hot water tank the night before. He felt good in my arms even before he started thrusting against me, his cock rubbing against mine.
The bloody clothes really were getting in the way now, but I didn't want to let go of him for long enough to get them off. I grabbed at the waistband of his pyjama trousers, trying to pull them down enough to free his cock. Frustration at first, with his weight pinning them in place; then he realised what I was doing and lift
ed his hips slightly, just enough that I could drag the annoying cloth down past them. Oh, god, but I wanted him, wanted to feel his cock right against mine. I hauled my own clothing out of the way, far enough at least that we had skin-to-skin contact where it mattered. I could feel him properly now, hot skin against mine, his cock dragging against me. There was cream in the bedside cabinet, but I couldn't for the life of me let go of him long enough to look for it. It would have to be rough and ready, none of the little refinements.
He deserved better than that, we both did, but it was far too late to stop now. I was almost there already, morning erection on top of sharing the bed being all I'd needed by way of foreplay. He was in similar straits, frantic against me, gasping my name as he hung on to me.
Then he said more than my name. “Want you, Richard. Want this ... with you ...” And it was enough for me.
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What people are saying about
Spindrift
Spindrift is a touching love story that will leave you wishing for more. After the first few pages, I left reality and was firmly entrenched in the narrative. There is a sensual quality to the writing style that I found especially appealing.
-- Annabelle, Joyfully Reviewed
Ms. Jones explores the myth of the selkie, puts her own unique spin on it and has penned another winner in my book.
-- Michelle Naumann, Just Erotic Romance Reviews
The relationship is believable and I couldn't wait to find out how things would turn out. Jules Jones knows how to write a wonderful story with very erotic scenes!
-- Anita, Enchanted in Romance