Caught by His Vampire Mate [Vamp Mates 2] (Siren Publishing Classic ManLove)

by Dakota Dawn

  Darrin sniffed the air. “Humans.”

  A minute later they were surrounded by humans with bloodshot eyes. At the sight of the three of them the group started chanting must kill. They did it over and over again just like the last humans.

  “They must be on drugs,” Darrin said right before a young man charged him. Something snapped in the group. They all rushed forward. Conlin killed the one right in front of him with a knife to the man’s heart. Ghost tweaked the nose of the man to his right, giving him a second to twist and stab the man in the neck. The scent of blood clouded the air.

  Ghost moved to help Darrin. Two more charged Conlin, and he went down swinging and slashing. Their chanting was getting annoying. He desperately wanted them to shut up and go away. He kicked one off him and felt a knife graze his shoulder. Adrenaline raced through him. Raising his knife, he gutted the idiot that had cut him.

  When the crazed man raised his own knife and was about to stab him, Ghost floated over and slapped him. The chanting man looked around. Conlin shoved him back, and Darrin sliced his throat. That guy had been harder to kill than the others. As another man jumped him, Conlin feared they wouldn’t last much longer.

  The man punched him in the face. Pain boomed through his cheek. He kicked the chanting man and tried to shove the big guy off him. If he didn’t get back on his feet soon, he’d be dead meat. After punching the man in the nose, Conlin got a chance to stand.

  Halfway up, he was jumped from behind and slammed to the ground. His head hit the ground hard, and everything dimmed. A knife’s cold blade pressed into his forehead for a split second. Pain slashed through his head. Blood ran into his eyes.

  “Fuck!” He was blinded by his own blood.

  The knife was suddenly gone, and a breath later he heard the snap of a neck.

  “Conlin, oh God, Conlin. Are you all right?” Darrin screamed in a panic-stricken voice.

  He couldn’t see a damn thing. “I don’t know. I can’t see shit.”

  “That’s because your blood is running into your eyes,” Ghost said from nearby. “To your right, Darrin,” the spirit warned.

  His brother twisted and another neck snapped.

  All he could feel was Darrin’s feet touching the outsides of his thighs. Darrin killed two more of the chanting humans and then cried out.

  “What’s happening?” Conlin yelled. His heart was racing, causing his hearing to be impaired. Blind and partly deaf was not good.

  “Darrin just took a bad cut to the face,” Ghost shot back in a horrified voice.

  Conlin tried to wipe his eyes clear, but more blood poured into them.

  Darrin snarled and hissed right before another neck snapped.

  Over the dim chanting, Conlin heard a thunderous roar and shivered. Tristan was here and he was pissed.

  Standing his ground, Darrin never moved away for him. Conlin was grateful for that. He could hear fighting all around him. The smell of blood littered the air worse than before. By the second the chanting was fading as more of them died.

  He heard Drake asking one of the humans why they were killing. There was a small hesitation and then the man answered, “Must kill good people…must kill.”

  Conlin slid back and sat up as he tried to clear the blood from his eyes. He heard a few more of the crazy men come out of the woods. Punches, grunts, and snapping of necks filled his ears.

  Darrin stumbled a step away, and Conlin could hear his brother throwing up. Darrin’s stomach couldn’t handle violence.

  He was about to reassure his brother when he heard a shuffling of feet, and then Darrin was hovering over him.

  “Stay back,” Darrin told the others.

  “We’re not going to hurt you or your brother. We’ve come to get you. Mates can’t be separated. You both need medical attention. Let us take you back to the house and we’ll talk this out,” Tristan said in a surprisingly calm tone.

  His heart lurched at the sound of Tristan’s voice.

  “What do you think, Conlin?” Darrin asked.

  “I don’t know? I like Tristan.” He was at a loss and being blind along with his pounding heart was making it hard to focus.

  “I don’t like Tristan, but you two need help. You are both cut really bad,” Ghost said.

  “Darrin?” Conlin called out.

  His brother fell, and before he could grab him, Conlin was wrapped in a growling vamp’s arms.

  “Oh shit!” he yelped. Looks like Tristan had been faking being calm. He felt his body changing and knew Tristan was misting them back to the house.

  Chapter Twelve

  Chaos broke out the second they arrived at the house.

  Fangs sank into his neck, and he cried out in surprise.

  “Darrin please wake up. Tristan is killing Conlin.” Ghost’s frantic voice echoed through his head.

  “Calm down, spirit. Tristan is injecting a healing serum into Conlin’s blood, so he’ll heal quickly,” Caleb said.

  “Luke, stitch Darrin’s cheek up. Milly, make up some of your healing tea. They’re both going to need it,” Drake ordered.

  “On it,” Milly answered.

  Fire lit his veins. Whatever Tristan was pumping into him was heating his blood and making him itchy.

  Tristan growled loudly and withdrew his fangs. Conlin felt the vamp’s tongue run over the small fang wound. A damp towel covered his eyes, and a second one covered the knife wound on his forehead. He squirmed as his cut was being cleaned.

  “You shouldn’t have left me. We are bound, my pet.”

  Something in the vamp’s voice struck a chord in him. “Was that why my chest hurt more and more the further I got from you?” The pain had been way worse than the pain from the knife wound to his head. The longing for Tristan had grown into a full-blown ice storm in his heart. He realized the only reason it melted was because Tristan had been quickly closing the distance between them. He couldn’t live without Tristan. They were truly bound. His heart leapt at the realization.

  A growl vibrated through Tristan. The sound sent a peppering of goose bumps all over his body. He’d never leave his mate again.

  “That’s right, Conlin. You belong with me,” Tristan’s emotion-roughened voice whispered in his ear. More goose bumps replaced the others.

  The vamp’s empath powers were amazing. The cloth over his cut was removed, and the vamp’s tongue slid across the injury several times. He shivered at the strange yet exciting feel of Tristan’s tongue on him.

  “Soon you’re going to have more of that than you can comfortably handle,” Tristan stated gruffly.

  He smelled flowers and realized Milly was back. “Here’s the tea.”

  “Thanks. Go back to the kitchen so Darrin won’t be enticed by your scent when he comes to,” Tristan said.

  “Will do, Tristan. I hope they both will be all right,” Milly replied.

  “They will be. Thanks for your help,” Tristan answered.

  Tristan’s arm went under his shoulders and a cup was placed to his lips. “Drink. Milly put her special touch in it so you’ll heal quickly.”

  He took a sip and made a face. The brew was awful. Laughter rumbled through Tristan’s chest.

  “This stuff is horrible,” he whined.

  “So I hear. Finish it,” Tristan ordered without sympathy.

  “I don’t—”

  “Just do it, Conlin. I think you’re going to need your strength,” Ghost advised.

  “Why?” The cup was pressed into his bottom lip. He took the hint and drank it all. His stomach churned.

  “That’s it, Darrin, wake up,” Luke coaxed nearby.

  Worry for his brother took his mind off his stomach.

  Darrin moaned, he tried to sit up. Tristan pressed him down onto the couch. “Lie back. I need your head wound to get better.”

  “How’s my brother?”

  “He’s coming to,” Ghost answered.

  “Don’t touch your cheek, Darrin,” Luke warned.

  Conli
n could picture his brother reaching up to touch the cut. He’d had to do the same thing himself. His brother’s must be a lot worse than his own since it had to be stitched. A new wave of itchiness assailed him, and he squirmed, wishing it would go away.

  “Here, drink this, Darrin,” Luke stated in a doctorly way. Like he expected his patient to follow his orders without complaint or questions.

  There was silence and then a gagging sound.

  “Keep it down, boy,” Luke ordered.

  He could hear more gagging and the shifting of a body on a couch.

  “Oh my God. Luke just pinched Darrin’s nose and held his jaw closed to make him swallow the tea,” Ghost blurted. The spirit’s voice was full of shock.

  “Luke does whatever’s necessary to get the job done,” Caleb said as if nothing out of the ordinary were happening.

  Conlin could hear some humor and pride in Caleb’s voice. In their world you had to be tough. Luke was proving himself to be an extremely capable man.

  “Ew, that was horrible,” Darrin grouched.

  “Yep, but you’ll be better in a matter of hours. Now drink this herbal wine so your scar won’t be so bad,” Luke ordered once again.

  “Scar?” Darrin questioned.

  “Oh yeah. Congrats, you just got your first battle scar,” Luke answered.

  “He was a true warrior, standing over Conlin and killing anyone who got near him,” Drake stated proudly.

  “Then he threw up,” Caleb added with a laugh.

  “That’s enough, guys. Drake, take Darrin to his rooms,” Luke ordered.

  “Wait. I want to see him,” Conlin said and tried to remove the cloth that covered his eyes.

  Tristan pushed his hand away and gently cleared the blood from his eyes. For the first time he realized that the cloth smelled like it had been dipped in herbs. With soothing strokes, Tristan cleaned him up and eased the towel away. He opened his eyes and sucked in a shocked breath. Tristan’s eyes were scarily intense and glowing. He swallowed hard when he became conscious of the fact that the beast in Tristan wasn’t going to just forgive him for running away. Payback was coming soon.

  “Conlin, check out your brother and see for yourself that he’s all right. Your mate can’t stay here much longer,” Luke stated softly.

  Looking at his brother, he felt his heart drop. A long, jagged cut ran down the side of Darrin’s face. It was red and angry looking. Stitches held the skin together. The black thread neatly crisscrossed the cut. It had to be painful.

  “I’m fine, Conlin. You should see yourself. How do you feel?” Darrin asked.

  “The ache in my head has lessened, but I’m itchy as hell. We’re lucky to be alive.” He looked into Tristan’s glowing eyes and then glanced at all the men standing around. “Thanks for helping us.”

  Tristan squeezed his hand. “You’re mine.” The vein in the vamp’s cheek started throbbing and his eyes flashed red.

  “Looks like we’re gong to have to finish this conversation tomorrow. Tristan’s about to come unglued,” Luke stated shrewdly.

  Conlin squirmed under Tristan’s intense stare and yelped when the vamp growled and lifted him into his arms. Within the blink of an eye they misted into Tristan’s bathroom.

  He was released long enough for the vampire to turn the water in the tub on full blast. “Strip,” Tristan commanded roughly.

  The thought of refusing never occurred to him. There was a wild aura coming off Tristan that he’d never seen before. With unsteady hands he shed his torn, dirty clothes.

  After removing his own dirty clothes, the vamp took Conlin’s hand and assisted him into the tub and then got in himself.

  The water level rose as they sat down. Warm water soothingly surrounded them. He closed his eyes and took a few meditative breaths.

  The scent of soap drifted over to him. The water rocked in the tub as Tristan moved around and then started to clean his whole body. It felt heavenly.

  As Tristan cleaned his own body, he asked, “What made you leave?”

  “Darrin and Ghost didn’t think we were safe here. They worried that a hungry vampire may lose control and drain me at any time.”

  “Well-fed vampires don’t lose control. That’s one of the reasons we keep an open bar. The safest place for you is here. Do you understand that?” The firmness of the vamp’s voice had Conlin’s eyes popping open.

  His heart tripled its beat when he saw the wild look in the vamp’s eyes. He had hoped the soothing warm water would have calmed the man.

  “Stand,” Tristan commanded.

  With his heart in his throat, he stood. Tristan came up on his knees and leaned in and kissed a bruise on Conlin’s side and then lightly touched the bruises that dotted the front of his body. With a start, he realized that he’d taken more hits than he’d felt. In the middle of battling for his life, he’d thought he was blocking almost all of the blows. His body, however, proved that his enemy had been quicker than he’d believed.

  Tristan stood and got out of the bathtub. He then turned and held his hand out to Conlin. On shaky legs, he got out and let the vamp dry him off. Tristan touched a lot of spots on his back.

  “Most of these bruises and scratches will be gone by tomorrow night. For you, it’s a shame that I have a good memory. You’re in deep trouble for not coming to me with your concerns. Even now I can feel the beast in me rearing to get to you.” Tristan latched onto his arms and misted onto the bed. The vamp spoke a few words and held his hand out.

  Conlin’s hands spread out wide and were pinned to the bed by an invisible force. As his heart raced the itching feeling in his body grew stronger. He squirmed on the bed. “I’m sorry that I didn’t come to you first. I’m not good with relationships,” he apologized.

  “I can see that. It’s good that you’re sorry. The animal in me wants to make sure you get the message that you belong to me, though.” Tristan’s voice had lowered and held a hint of a growl.

  Feeling the need to calm Tristan, he promised, “I won’t leave again. It hurt too much to be separated from you.”

  “I’m glad you’re getting it, but you stirred the animal in me when you almost died today.” Tristan’s eyes started glowing brighter, and a flash of red appeared for a second. His fangs extended. “Never put yourself in danger again. You’re mine.”

  A shiver raced up his spine as he watched the big vamp get a bottle of lube. The click of the lid had his shaft firming up. Tristan climbed on the bed and growled. Red flashed in his eyes again. The vamp grinned and made an outward motion with his hands.

  In stunned silence, he watched as his legs moved apart. An upward move of the vamp’s hands had his knees bending and his feet moving about a foot away from his ass. One more hand motion and his legs spread a little wider.

  Blood pooled in his groin. His shaft lengthened another inch. He tested his bonds. The dark side of him was content when he couldn’t move from his spread position.

  Cool lube was drizzled over his rear opening. Closing his eyes, he focused on Tristan’s touch. A finger circled his now slick star over and over. Just when the itching in his body started getting worse and he doubted he could wait another second for the vamp to start stretching him, a thick finger slid in.

  “Oh yeah, more please. I’m so itchy I need more,” he begged.

  A second finger pushed in, and Tristan spread his fingers and wiggled them. A long moan came from him. His body relaxed and invited the vamp in.

  Tristan ran his free hand over Conlin’s neck and down his bound lover’s body. Reaching the swollen cock, the vamp stroked the hard flesh until the veins in it plumped and the ones in his neck beat out a wild rhythm.

  In a sudden move, Tristan went from gentle lover to possessive beast. His fangs sank into Conlin’s neck at the same time his thick erection replaced his fingers in Conlin’s ass.

  A scream tore from his throat as the rush of pheromones pulsed through all the molecules in his body. Tristan started growling and pumping his huge
cock in and out of Conlin’s tight ass. Each draw from his neck brought more ethereal bliss. The hands gripping his hips tightened. The vamp’s thrusting erection started repeatedly hitting a sweet spot in his quivering canal, and Conlin screamed even louder as his hot seed raced up the length of his throbbing dick and erupted from his body.

  Tristan retracted his fangs and sealed the wound. He reared back and grabbed Conlin’s head in his large hands. Red flashed like fireworks in his eyes.

  “You are mine.” The vamp’s hips pumped faster and faster.

  Conlin’s body was still quivering from his trip to heaven when the vamp roared and buried his throbbing cock balls-deep in Conlin’s bound body.

  He dropped down on Conlin and once again growled, “You’re mine.”

  That ended up being the theme for the rest of the night and all the next day.

  The healing itch went away after his third climax. Tristan’s body pressing into his had helped immensely and so had the fact that Tristan’s cock never left Conlin’s body.

  His world grew hazy from excessive pleasure. The vamp’s hands never stopped roaming his bound body. Sometimes the touch was light and soothing, others it was rough and demanding. Waking to a fist pumping his dick as his ass was being pounded into brought on his fourth climax. He yelled as ropes of his seed spurted from his cockhead.

  Tristan stated gruffly, “You are mine.” The vamp then came inside his lover again.

  His world dimmed again as the vamp dropped down on him and nuzzled his face in Conlin’s neck and licked it lovingly. The erection in him only softened slightly. He vaguely wondered how Tristan could keep it up for so long. The soothing licks relaxed him back to sleep.

  Rhythmic rocking into his sore ass woke him some time later. When Tristan whispered, “You’re mine,” into his ear, Conlin knew the vamp was still asserting his dominance over him. Remembering the pain of separation, he had no intention of leaving again. He felt bad because obviously Tristan had been in just as much pain as he’d been in.

  “I’ll never leave you again,” he cajoled the vamp.

  Tristan moved his hands, and Conlin’s legs locked around Tristan’s waist. The new position had his leg muscles aching and tingling from the sudden change.