Obediently Grif grasped the wood as he shook his head. "No, Master."
"Then we will begin." Dominic stepped back and tapped the end of the crop against his leg. "You may speak if you wish." That was the last thing Dominic said before the crop sliced through the air and landed with a sharp slap to Grif's buttocks.
The sting against his flesh instantly drew Grif's attention and his fingers curled tighter to the wood. The burning sensations stung just beneath the surface and he breathlessly waited for the next hit. His voice came out in a low whisper, "You can do whatever you want to me, Master." Grif placed implicit trust in Dominic, even when the other vampire nudged at his comfort levels.
* * * *
Grif had asked for time alone in the room that had been set aside for him. With only a small mattress, bedside table, and one lamp, there was nothing else to distract him from his own thoughts. Dominic had already tested him on many levels, giving Grif no choice but to focus and deal with his own internal struggles.
Staring up at the ceiling, he sighed quietly as he let himself remember. Each threat Quinn had thrown at him had lost its meaning. Grif had blocked nearly all of his memories about everything, but Dominic no longer allowed him to get away with that. At times it was a nightmare he wasn't sure he'd ever wake up from. But Dominic had dragged him out of that place, and being able to deal with the events had lightened part of the burden deep inside him. The only thing his mind shied away from was what happened after Tage showed up.
Dominic entered, then moved across the room to Grif. As he settled on the edge of the mattress, he said, "You've been in here for over an hour, Grif. Now tell me what I want to know."
Rolling to his side, Grif stared at the opposite wall, keeping his back to Dominic. It cost him considerably to even say anything. "I remember. I remember too much of it."
"If it's prompting you need, then I will gladly do it." Dominic reached out and smoothed Grif's hair from his cheek. "Do you want me to hold you while you talk?"
"No, not necessary. What happened was the same as what used to happen. Being raped, beaten, and tortured. Normal daily events for Quinn. Not a damn thing I could do about it. You've probably had enough of the details." It was hard not to shut down as the words poured out of him, and Grif remained far too focused mentally on the vivid memories, but at least he could do so without completely falling apart.
"You fought him, Grif. You beat him. How did you do it?"
Rolling to his back, Grif stared blankly up at Dominic, puzzled by his question. "I hardly remember any of that." His forehead creased in concentration and the words came out slowly. "Tage came into the room. He wanted to rescue me. I was freaked out and afraid for him, but I wasn't really surprised. I should have beat his ass for that."
Dominic smiled and settled beside Grif, propping himself up on his arm. "What happened then?"
"I sure as hell didn't beat him." Lowering his gaze, Grif refused to meet Dominic's eyes. "Quinn came in and tried to get to Tage. I did attack him then, but it wasn't enough. Tage didn't get out."
Slipping a finger beneath Grif's chin, Dominic tilted his head back up to force Grif to look at him. "I know you, Griffith St. James. When you are driven to violence, there is little stopping you. Tage might not have made it out, but I seriously doubt that you just turned the other cheek and let it go at that."
"I don't really remember much but going after Quinn. He punished me for it repeatedly. I put Tage to sleep afterwards, but I don't know if Quinn did anything to him. Or even if my power worked for Tage." Grif hadn't seen Tage again until the Council's guards came to the house, so he wasn't sure at all what happened to Tage.
"Tage was fine," Dominic reassured him. "Your ward around him prevented Quinn from laying a finger on him. In fact, the Council Elders, myself included, were quite impressed with the strength behind your ward. Quinn…was an Elder as well, though he was not on the Council."
Grif mulled over what Dominic said for a long moment. "It did work then? I wasn't sure if it would work against Quinn. I tried, though, and tried to keep Quinn's attention on me so he wouldn't go after Tage."
"None of us have ever seen such a strong ward placed by a young vampire, Grif. It was as strong as an Elder like myself would do."
"I didn't talk to Tage about it. I should have, I suppose, but I think I was afraid to." Another small smile broke through at Dominic's comments. "I had to protect him. At least I know I did." It relieved some of the burden Grif had been carrying around inside him. "I would have killed Quinn myself if I could have."
"When I first met you, you would pick fights. Do you remember that?"
Wincing slightly, Grif nodded good-humoredly . "Something neither of us will forget since you saved my ass several times."
"Back then, you picked fights without regard to whether you would win or not. You had the heart of a warrior, but not the discipline. Now, you've developed the discipline to fight well, instead of carelessly. Do you remember that, after you attacked him, Quinn had no choice but to chain you to keep you from attacking him again? You inflicted a great deal of damage to him the first time. Now I look at you, see what you've been through, and I realize that you are very much the warrior, as brave as any knight I fought alongside."
Eyes widening, Grif stared mutely at Dominic. When he finally found his voice, he spoke carefully and slowly. "Is that how you see me? I had thought I was weak."
"It's how everyone sees you, Grif. You, love, are the talk of the Council. We're all amazed, and I…" Dominic smiled slowly and smoothed his thumb over Grif's lips. "I admire you more than you will ever know. I've fought with men who never knew even an ounce of the bravery and courage that you possess."
"Sometimes I think only you would see me that way." Grif reached up, running his fingers through Dominic's hair. "You have no idea how much it means to me. I think I've been afraid that eventually you'll grow tired of me because I have been so weak."
Dominic's expression grew serious and he caught Grif's hand, lacing their fingers together. "Grif, you are not weak. There's nothing weak about you, never has been. Don't you see? You're an inspiration to others who think they don't have it in them to stand up for what they think is right. Out of all the people I've known in my lifetime, human and not, I admire you above all others—for your strength, your courage, your determination. And to Tage, you are a god...a hero made flesh."
Trying to see himself as others might see him wasn't the easiest thing to do, but Grif began to understand his own assessment of himself had been flawed. Studying Dominic's face, it took Grif a moment to form the words. "Thank you, love. You've believed in me more than I've been able to believe in myself."
"Then maybe it's time to change that. It's time to believe in yourself, to realize how very much you mean to everyone, and how strong you really are." Dominic leaned down and kissed him softly. "I love you, Griffith. You are the world to me."
Grif's arms slipped around Dominic's neck, returning the soft kiss. "I'm starting to think you're right. As always." He couldn't resist adding the last two words. "And we're equal in that because you're everything to me."
Dominic chuckled. "Good. Now kiss me."
Master and slave had given way to lovers. Grif lifted his head as one hand tugged Dominic down to him. "Whatever you command."
The soft touch of his lips brushed over Dominic's, then molded more tightly in a deeper kiss. Dominic hummed softly, happily, tongue playing with Grif's as he rolled them, pulling Grif up to straddle him. Hands on Grif's hips, Dom rocked up, grinding them together. Stray drops from Grif's cock slicked the leather of Dom's pants, and Dom finally pulled away from the kiss.
"Need to get rid of these," he said, voice gone husky, deep. "I want inside you."
A smile curved his lips as Grif drew back his head. His kneading fingers played over Dominic's shirt, itching to reach the skin beneath. "I know I was resistant to your idea of retreat, but I'm glad you didn't take no for an answer."
"I know yo
u, love." Dominic started unbuttoning the shirt slowly, almost teasing. "Besides, I wanted the collaring as something between us. You still have Tage, after all."
"And what about Jason?" One brow quirked and the smile became a grin. Since Dominic took too long with the shirt, Grif impatiently pushed aside the material; his fingers strayed in a loving touch over bare skin. "Actually, you two will have some things to work out as well. Jason has some heavy adjustments to make."
Dominic groaned and arched into the touch. "Yes," he hissed, though whether it was in answer to Grif's questions or his touch was anyone's guess. "Jason and I will talk more later. Right now, his concern is Tage. He loves Tage, very much."
"I'm not sure how much everything has affected Tage. Sometimes it's really hard to tell with him." Grif knew he would have to attend to it when he returned home. For the moment, however, he focused on Dominic. Lowering his head, his lips followed the path of his fingers, pressing light kisses over Dominic's chest.
Falling silent, Dominic ran his hands over Grif's back, tracing slow circles over the smooth skin. He finally slipped a hand between them and popped the button on his pants, then unzipped them carefully. When their cocks touched, sliding along each other, he hissed, bucking slightly at the friction.
"Grif…"
Staring into Dominic's eyes, Grif pressed harder against him, relishing the awakening sensation and the growing hunger in his lover's expression. With a slight shift, Grif began pulling the pants down, then tugged them completely off. As his gaze roamed slowly over Dominic's naked form, his voice took on a husky tone. "You are absolutely perfect, love."
Dominic reached out, hunger and desire turning his blue eyes dark. "As are you." He tugged Grif down and rolled.
It never took very much effort on Dominic's part to light the fire of need inside Grif. His hands curled tightly to Dominic's arms, trying to hold his lover in place. His position left him completely open to Dominic. Reacting instantly to the movement, a low groan rose from deep within Grif. The rock of his body increased the friction, literally begging Dominic to take him. "Now. Need you now."
Without saying a word, Dominic tugged open the drawer on the bedside table. It took only a minute for him to slick himself, then with one strong thrust, he pushed inside, taking Grif's mouth in a hard kiss as his cock filled Grif's body.
Feeling the surge deep inside him, the rush of emotions and desire swept through Grif. His body arched upward, straining against Dominic. Their joining was as necessary to him as blood; the place Dominic took him to shut out everything else but his own body and the two of them. Raking his nails down Dominic's arm, he left red marks in their wake.
Dominic growled into the kiss and caught Grif's arms, pinning them to the pillow above his head. "You are mine." Eyes that were once blue now burned deep red, hunger for everything boring into Grif.
Nothing in Grif struggled against the rising heat between them. He knew what Dominic was doing. Nails clawing into Dominic's hands, Grif deliberately pushed his own mind into a near blank state. The only thing left to him was the sensation of Dominic inside him as he waited for his lover to truly fill him.
The change was clear, sudden. With the last of the barriers gone, the beast residing in Dominic roared as he laid claim to Grif completely. Every thrust was brutal and swift, driving Dominic deeper inside Grif's body, making it clear who and what he was to Grif. Gripping both of Grif's wrists in one hand, Dominic brought his right hand down and placed it directly over Grif's heart.
"Mine." Dominic pressed his palm to Grif's skin, the touch burning into Grif's soul, branding him forever.
Without access to his natural mental defenses, the flood hit Grif in a tidal wave as Dominic took him over. It rolled through him, leaving Dominic's full power rushing through him. His body convulsed with the pain of the runic symbols burning into his skin; the burn itself seeped deeper into his body. The one word resonated completely through Grif and he screamed as he came. Shuddering violently in the throes of release, he exposed his throat to Dominic to complete the ritual.
Dominic struck hard and quick, the sound that erupted from him seemed to shake the walls. He drank deeply, the bite brutal, painful. His nails extended into claws and dug into Grif's wrists as he held Grif pinned, writhing beneath him. With a final, forceful thrust, Dominic came, the growl filling them both.
Dominic's power, pain, and pleasure kept Grif in a state of heightened awareness, tied by the bonds of Dominic's demand. Writhing beneath Dominic, Grif made no attempt to stop anything. He couldn't have tried even if he'd wanted to. With the higher volume of blood loss, Grif's body grew limp and still he didn't protest.
Only when the beast was satisfied did Dominic stop feeding. He licked the wounds closed and lifted his head. He pressed a soft, reverent kiss to Grif's lips and whispered, "Drink. I am a part of you, Griffith." Then he turned his head and drew Grif's face to his neck.
Dominic was the only thing in him at the moment. Grif's mind had given way to allow the ritual its place inside him. When his fangs sank into Dominic's flesh, he drank slowly, feeling Dominic's blood burn through his system and strengthen its claim on him. After a moment, his head dropped back to the pillow. Nearly exhausted, he still clung to the sharp, more pervasive sense surrounding him. They were indivisible now, and no matter what else happened, they would always be together.
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
Mychael Black never set out to write erotic romance (or romance or erotica, for that matter). When Mychael first started writing (way back when), it was to be a fantasy author—someone along the lines of Tolkien or Mercedes Lackey. Mychael even thought about breaking into horror. Then, somewhere down the line, Mychael got hooked on gay porn.
The rest is history.
Born in Alabama in 1976, Mychael is known by many names. At this point, most people in the e-publishing world (readers and authors) know Mychael as Kay Derwydd.
The name Mychael Black came about when Mychael started working with Shayne Carmichael. (See Shayne's bio for the progression of that whole thing.) To date, Mychael has written countless works with Shayne, plus several single-authored works as Mychael Black.
When not writing, Mychael can usually be found researching anything medieval—arms, armor, history, religion; anything Welsh—culture, language, history; languages—namely Welsh, Hebrew, German; and only God knows what else.
Aside from research, writing, and editing, Mychael spends most of the time chasing down two young children and fighting off the plot bunnies left and right.
More information can be found at the following places:
http://www.geocities.com/mychaelblack
http://mychael-black2.livejournal.com
Who is Shayne Carmichael? His real name is Shayne Lee Smith. He was born in Itazuke, Japan to American parents. (ie - Dad was in the Air Force). From the age of three to eight, he lived in Taiwan. He's traveled a lot, and only discovered even more he wants to learn about the world.
When not writing, Shayne is a self taught PHP and MySql dynamo. Or at least one would think from the number of scripts he's been begged to write for free. With any spare time left to him, Shayne runs ERWI (Erotic Romance Writers International), aggravates his co-author, Mychael, to no end, often drowns under Mychael's plot bunnies, and holds a forty hour a week job.
Currently Shayne is working on a six book series, The Legends of the Romanorum. Blood Ties, Blood Magic and Blood Sins are being written by Shayne. The Prince's Angel, And the Two Shall Become One, and Forever May Not Be Long Enough are being written by Shayne and Mychael. Included in the writing list are a few other books, Magic and the Pagan, Night Song, and numerous novellas and shorts.
Shayne writes under the pen names of Sable St Germain and Shayne Carmichael. Sable was an RP character he used to play. Shayne Carmichael is a combination of his first name and Cian's (Angel/sorcerer in The Prince's Angel) last name. The character Shayne writes for in The Prince's Angel is Mael Black. That would explain why Mychael's las
t name is Black, and the character Mychael writes for is Cian.
Shayne's first official publishing contact is with Phaze for the Power of Two. A vampire D/s, BDSM story written with Mychael Black. The status of Phaze author has been one of their goals. Having achieved that, their next goal is to take over the world.
Over the last nine years, Shayne has rped (roleplayed) and written both male and female characters. Gay, lesbian and het (vanilla and non vanilla). You could say he runs the gamut.
He's never believed whatever gender he happens to possess dictates what he can and can't write. And he pretty much ignores anybody who thinks that way. Especially since he's never been a vampire, were tiger, ghost or guide, but he writes about them anyway.
Hell, he could be a woman pretending to be a man, or a man pretending to be a woman. He might be a 21 year old sex crazed female or a 60 year old dirty old man. It's the world wide anonymous web, remember? In the anonymous vacuum of web space, nobody can hear you scream. They can't tell your age or sex either.
In the publication of most of his books and for advertising, his persona is male. In the comic strip The Beleaguered Lives of Mychael and Shayne, his persona is female. Why? He likes confusing the readers. Then again, maybe he's a bit of both.
Whether he's a man writing gay, lesbian and kinky het or a woman writing gay, lesbian and kinky het, doesn't matter. If he can draw you into a story with his words, he's done his job.
Who is Shayne Carmichael? Does it really matter?
Shayne shares a website with Mychael Black, his partner in crime at http://www.theprinceangel.com.
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