by Tara Lain
Lucien’s eyes widened.
“Hey, I’m kidding. It was a great orgasm. I’m just out of practice.”
Lucien kissed his neck. “What you need is more practice.”
“Purrrrrrr.”
Sammy’s mind raced and his heart beat fast. “No, I’ll take a rain check.”
“Very well. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Lucien turned on his heel and marched down the stairs.
Hells, what am I doing? Lucien said he was Sammy’s boyfriend, the very thing Sammy said he wanted. Now I’m fighting him off. Why? Yes, the fact that Ryder and Aloysius didn’t like Lucien mattered. He respected them both, but respecting them was not getting him any cock.
Shit.
Sammy walked inside, and the tiredness took over. Whoa. He wobbled a little, and Al leaped down to the floor. Self-protection. “I’m okay, guy. Not going to fall.” It had been a long day.
He carefully removed his suit, glad that Aloysius’s fur was black and wouldn’t show on the navy. It had been so kind of Lucien to get this for him. How did I show my appreciation? One damned kiss. He knew how girls must feel when their dates took them out for an expensive meal or bought them a gift and their only way to say thank you was with their bodies. It felt crappy.
He hung up the suit with his few shirts. It made everything else look shabby. What could he do to show his appreciation to Lucien except fuck him? That gift shouldn’t be a payment. He stopped. Paint him. I could do a portrait. Cool.
Sammy crawled into his sweats. Maybe he’d get started. It was such a great idea, and he’d wanted to paint Lucien anyway. Hells, who wouldn’t?
He grabbed a prepared canvas he’d been planning to take to class and set it on his easel. Aloysius padded over and sat in the middle of the floor, looking at Sammy.
Paints practically leaped into Sammy’s hands. Green. Deep green and a silvery brown color he mixed from three tubes to get right. He slashed the brush across the canvas just to wake it up. Deep breath. Let it happen. The edges of his vision blurred. Warm oil flowed over his brain and down into his hand. Wait. He shook his head. I need white and gold paint, don’t I? Deep. Dark. His hand moved, curving, looping, slanting down for the nose, long and slender. To capture the essence of the man. Not his form. The heart of his beauty. The wide eyes crowded by those high cheekbones…. No, they should be soft and round. Strong jaw. What? No. Green. Brilliance of green, shimmering like emeralds.
“Purrrrrrr.”
The vibration echoed through him. Beauty, truth, deep into the darkness.
Hells’ bells! He shook his head. What’s going on?
“Merwaor.”
Sammy stepped back when he heard Aloysius meow. The portrait wasn’t nearly complete. But even so, there was no chance that was Lucien staring back at him. No chance at all.
He frowned at Aloysius. “Did you make me do that?” Sammy gazed at the shining green eyes and long brown hair with pointed ears peeking out. Al didn’t have anything to do with it. Most amazing was the look in Ryder’s eyes. Even incomplete, they shone with something very much like love. Talk about your wishful thinking.
Sammy sighed, pulled off his sweats, brushed his teeth, and crawled into bed. He ought to be the happiest guy around. He had a doting boyfriend and some appreciation and respect from the community for once. Why did he feel like crap? Maybe he should have had sex with Lucien. That would have made them both happy.
HEAT. BUBBLING, boiling. Hells, what kind of dream was this? Turn over. Reset. Sammy shifted but couldn’t move from his back. Wait. Breathing in his ear. Not Al’s. Shit, his cock was on fire! Sammy shot to the edge of his bed and sat up. His cock throbbed. “Hells. What the fuck is going on?”
Lucien beamed at him, lying on his side on the bed, fully clothed. Had the guy been jerking Sammy off? “Ah, my dear. I knew you regretted our not having sex, so I thought I’d do something to relax you.”
“What the fuck? How did you get in here? What is this?”
Lucien laughed as he reached out his hand and grabbed Sammy’s cock. “Don’t pretend you don’t want it, darling. This hard-as-a-spike penis of yours tells a different story.”
Gods, his rubbing felt good—but somehow not in a good way. Sammy’s body wanted to surrender, but his brain screamed at him. I didn’t ask for this! He summoned what will he could and pulled his body back against the headboard. “Look, I get that you might think I want sex, but that doesn’t mean you can break into my place and force yourself on me. Go home and call me tomorrow, like you said.”
Lucien sat up, and his eyes narrowed. “Perhaps I made a mistake. But since I am here now, with cock at the ready, why don’t we just fuck?” He dived toward Sammy, who skittered off the edge of the bed and hit the wall hard with his back.
“Have you lost your mind? Get away from me.” His heart beat fast, and his cock had definitely given up any desires and was in full-flight mode with the rest of Sammy’s body.
Lucien came up on his knees. “You need more persuasion, little witch?”
“No!” Was Lucien being cute? Maybe he was turned on by violence, like that other witch who had come from Europe and tried to seduce Killian.
Lucien began a low, mumbling chant. Then Sammy heard a shriek from the bathroom. Aloysius. “Al!” The damned witch had locked the familiar away. Shit, how much power did that take?
The chanting got stronger. Sammy felt like energy was flowing out of his fingertips and forming a puddle on the floor. Soon he’d be that puddle. He inched away from Lucien, his naked back still to the wall in the narrow space behind the bed.
Lucien gazed at him, and his blue eyes shone. “Stop being silly, Samlyn. Let’s just have sex and get it over with.”
“If you’re trying to woo me, asshole, you sure have a funny way of showing it.” But his knees felt like rubber.
“Merrrrrwaorrrr.” The shriek echoed through the room. Sammy’s neighbors were pretty private, but somebody had to hear that cat. Surely they’d report it.
Lucien walked on his knees across the bed toward Sammy. Sammy wanted to run, but no body part cooperated. Lucien beamed. “Let me get that lovely penis back in action. I can make you come until you black out from pleasure. You know I can.” He mumbled the chant.
“No, Lucien, no!”
Lucien’s brilliant beauty darkened. “Now you’re just being silly, aren’t you? Say you’re being silly.”
“Merwaaaaoooowr.”
Lucien spat, “Shut up, you fucking cat.”
“Merwaoooowwwwrrrrrr.”
The caterwauling shrieked through the room; Sammy’s ears hurt, and Lucien cringed like it pained him too.
Lucien raised the decibels on his chanting, and Sammy flowed to the floor like his bones had dissolved. The witch leaned over him, grasped Sammy’s hair, and pulled his head back. “Time to fuck, little witch.”
Have to fight. Have to. This witch would not force him. No!
“Merwaooooowrrr. Merrrwaoooorrrr. Merwaowrrrrr.”
Lucien unfastened his fly and pulled out that unfurled cobra cock.
Sammy’s brain screamed. Shit, no. Not in me!
Lucien shoved Sammy until he fell sideways with his ass twisted toward Lucien. The strange dick that got scarier-looking by the second pushed against his ass. Sammy took a deep breath and managed to raise a leg high enough to slam Lucien back hard onto the side of the bed. Lucien’s golden head cracked on the footboard.
“How dare you?” Lucien rose back up. “It’s time to stop playing.”
Playing? Is he nuts? Sammy scooted along the wall until Lucien grabbed his hair. Ouch! Hells.
Lucien’s chanting got louder, and that reptile cock came straight at Sammy’s mouth.
“Merwwwwwaaaaaowwwrrr.”
Are the walls shaking? Gods, blackness washed over him like a thick, musty blanket…. Can’t fight. Going under. Giving up feels good. Give up.
Every particle of energy, every spark of volition poured from Sammy. Darkness filled his head and o
ozed down his body like old oil.
“Merwwaaaaaoooowwwwrrrrrr.”
Darkness.
Fire. Like a brand on his chest. Did I black out? He opened his eyes. Can’t move. A heap against the wall. But….
Am I alone?
Take stock. Check the ass? Not violated. I’d know, right? No pain there. But he felt like a blazing poker pressed against his neck. He tried to raise a hand to soothe the burn. No luck.
Where the hells is Lucien?
“Merwaor. Merwaor.” A soft feline whining came from behind the door. So Lucien had been able to keep Aloysius locked up but not quiet. Interesting. His powers weren’t quite all that.
What had the guy done to Sammy while he was out?
He raised his head, and pain stabbed through it until his sight vanished in a flash of white. He dropped back to the floor. “I have to get up. Somehow.” He tested scooting his feet a few inches. Nausea washed over him and he heaved twice, but witches couldn’t vomit. Why did he feel so bad? It didn’t seem like Lucien had forced him while he was passed out, and Al had to be the reason. That last shriek would have wakened the dead, literally. But gods, how could Lucien have caged Aloysius? Sammy thought he knew, and the facts made him more exhausted. Aloysius was a familiar. Beyond some basic power over his own form, he could only magnify the powers of the witch who held him. Sammy had little power, so Al had nothing to magnify. A tear slid down Sammy’s cheek. Useless.
He stared at his phone, a lifetime away on top of his dresser. He summoned power and tried to lift it. Shit, nothing. Not a quiver. Even less power than he usually had. Besides, who would he call if he could get the damned phone? His mom and dad didn’t need this grief, and he didn’t really want to tell them what happened. Chen couldn’t get out of his house easily at night. He could call Killian, but it was his anniversary. Plus it would get Lucien in tons of trouble. Shit, it should! But maybe Lucien really thought Sammy wanted this. Maybe Sammy had wanted it and sent the wrong signals? His skin burned like fire around his neck.
Tears dripped off his chin and flowed into a river. Stupid, useless witch. Can’t even keep a decent guy.
The door slammed open. Shit. Is Lucien back? He tried to sit up. Need protection.
“Sammy? Sammy, where are you?”
Ryder rushed around the screen that separated the sleeping space from the rest of the apartment. Sammy cried harder.
“Sammy. God, what’s wrong?” Ryder squatted down on the floor and reached for Sammy.
“N-no. Can’t move. Too sick.”
“What can I do? I’ll call an ambulance.”
Sammy shook his head and regretted it instantly. “No, please. I don’t think I need a doctor.”
“You sure look like you do.” Ryder grabbed a cover off the bed and tucked it around Sammy’s naked body.
Sammy murmured, “Would you let Aloysius out of the bathroom?”
Ryder frowned. “How the hell did he get in there?”
Should he tell him? He had to tell someone, but he didn’t want Ryder to think less of him. “Long story.”
Ryder got up and opened the bathroom door. Like a furry missile, Al leaped out, landed beside Sammy’s collapsed body, and immediately padded up to his head and started licking him on the forehead. “Hey, that feels good.” Like that warm oil when he painted.
Ryder sat back down beside Sammy. He reached out one long-fingered hand and brushed Sammy’s hair off his face. Then he began to gently caress Sammy’s cheek. Between Al and Ryder, light and warmth shone through his body. The burning on his chest and neck lessened. “That’s so nice.” His eyes closed.
“Tell me what happened, Sam.”
“I can’t.”
“Please. It has something to do with Lucien, doesn’t it?”
Sammy nodded. Wow. It didn’t even hurt so much to nod. Ryder’s hand kept up its gentle stroking.
“I actually came here to warn you about him.”
“I should have listened to you before.”
“This is a bigger warning. I found out that he’s having sex with both Maybelle and Bilden. There may be others. I came to beg you not to sleep with him. People who have sex with him seem weird. Did you notice how strange Maybelle and Bilden have been acting? I don’t know if the two facts are related, but I don’t think you should take the chance.”
Sammy started to cry.
“Oh God, what’s wrong, baby?” Ryder leaned over and put his hand under Sammy’s head, running fingers through his hair—something Sammy had dreamed about for years. And now? Hells.
“He tried to have sex with me. He really pushed it, but I think Aloysius saved me. Still, I feel like I’ve been violated in some way. I can’t explain it.”
Ryder pressed his head against Sammy’s neck. “Stay away from him, Sams. He’s bad news. I feel it.” He chuckled softly. “Aloysius seems to agree. He’s licking me.”
Sammy snuffled. “I didn’t want him here, exactly.”
“What do you mean?”
“He broke… I mean, I must have left the door open and he came in and I woke up and he was jerking me off, and I tried to get away. Now I feel like he sucked my blood or my energy.” He sobbed.
Ryder sat up. “Shit. I’ll kill the bastard. I’ll kill him.”
Sammy grabbed Ryder’s arm. “No. No, he could hurt you.”
“That wimpy bastard? I don’t think so.”
He had to keep Ryder away from Lucien. Lucien was a powerful witch. “I think he believed I wanted him to do it. I kept putting him off, but he said he knew I wanted it.” Then why in the hells did he feel so bad?
“Did you say no?”
“Yes. A lot of times, but he just kept coming.”
“No means no, even in Czech.” Ryder’s jaw clenched.
“Please don’t.” Al started licking Sammy’s forehead like crazy.
Ryder took his hand. “I’m not doing anything except taking care of you. First I’ll see if I can get you in a bathtub and wash that bastard’s smell off you. I’m making you some tea and a little something to eat. Then we’ll get you cozy in bed with Al.”
Sammy raised his eyes. “Tea? Really?”
Ryder laughed, and that felt good. “Keep licking, Al.” He went into the bathroom, and Sammy heard the water start. Then he came out to the little kitchenette. “Can’t give you coffee. Not good for you right now. Have you got any tea?”
“I think I got some for one time when Dr. Barth came over.”
Sammy heard rustling. “Got it. Hope it’s not ancient.” Pans rattled. Sammy closed his eyes. How nice to just lie here, snuggled under the covers. Gods, his neck burned. He shifted his head, trying to get more comfortable. Al’s tongue kept scraping across his forehead. Soothing.
Maybe he drifted off, because next thing he knew, he was floating through the air. Wow. Like a powerful witch. Wait. He opened his eyes. Ryder was carrying him wrapped in the blanket. “Uh, how are you doing this?”
Ryder’s glistening green eyes looked down at him. “Because you don’t eat enough, and you’re light as a feather.”
Sammy snuggled his head against Ryder’s shoulder. He smelled like vanilla. Sammy loved vanilla. “I forget.”
“Well, I remember, and you’re going to get fed.”
“By who?”
“By me. Shh. Just rest.”
With pleasure. But before he could snuggle back into Ryder’s neck, he was set on the toilet seat, unwrapped from his blanket, and lowered into a warm bath—bubbles all around. “Mmm. Nice.” The water smelled good but not as good as Ryder.
Sammy took a deep breath and scooted down another couple of inches into the warm, sudsy water. He felt a sponge on his arm. “You gonna wash me?” He couldn’t keep his eyes open.
“Yep.”
“That’s the best thing ever.” The sponge moved slowly over his shoulders. So nice. Down his arm. Mmm. Other arm. Then warm water sluiced across his skin.
The sponge started on one foot. Sammy giggled.
> “Ticklish.”
“Mmm.”
Up his calf, knee, thigh. Oops. He was way too exhausted to move, but nobody told his cock. The beast was rising like a seeking serpent, and the tip pushed through the bubbles. Sammy moved his hands down to cover the thing. “Sorry.”
“No problem.”
Quiet surrounded Sammy. Only the ripple of the water as Ryder gently washed his skin. “Sam.”
“Hmm?”
“Did he hurt you?”
Sammy opened his eyes. “I don’t think so. He tried, but Al was screaming really loud. Maybe he got scared and figured the cops were going to show up or something.” He closed his eyes again. Then opened. “The real problem is I feel weird. Exhausted, you know? So tired I can barely move.” He shifted his head. “And my neck hurts. Burns.”
“Where?” Ryder slid his hand up to Sammy’s neck and stopped. “What’s this?”
“What?”
Ryder’s hand rose out of the water holding a golden object. “This charm. I don’t remember you wearing this before. I didn’t notice it when I was carrying you because the chain is so thin.”
Sammy reached up and felt a metal charm on a tiny chain around his neck. “I don’t know what it is. It’s not mine.” Chills ran through him despite the warm water.
Ryder frowned big-time. “The charm is an angel. I saw one once before.” He dropped the metal back against Sammy’s skin. “On Maybelle. She said Lucien gave it to her.”
Sammy grabbed the chain and yanked. It dug into his skin. “Damn. I don’t want it. Get it off me.”
Ryder fingered the chain and rotated it around Sammy’s neck. “Good grief, there’s no clasp. It’s a continuous chain.” He pulled on it with two hands. “And it’s strong. I can’t get it off.”
Sammy took a deep breath. No need to panic. It was only a token. But the gold felt heated. “He probably likes to mark his lovers in some way, the bastard.”
“But how could he have put on a chain with no clasp?”
Sammy knew it would be easy for Lucien, but he couldn’t say that to Ryder. “Probably some heating device or something. I must have fallen asleep, and he put it on.” Passed out was more to the point. Hells. “I’ll get someone to take it off when I feel better.”