Ace in the Hole

Home > Other > Ace in the Hole > Page 1
Ace in the Hole Page 1

by Sedonia Guillone




  ACE IN THE HOLE

  Sedonia Guillone

  www.loose-id.com

  Warning

  This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id® e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  Ace in the Hole

  Sedonia Guillone

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Published by

  Loose Id LLC

  1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-2924

  Carson City NV 89701-1215

  www.loose-id.com

  Copyright © July 2007 by Sedonia Guillone

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.

  ISBN 978-1-59632-502-9

  Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader

  Printed in the United States of America

  Editor: C. B. Calsing

  Cover Artist: Christine M. Griffin

  Dedication

  To Mitch ‑‑ Always.

  Thank you to my critique partner, Ruth Axtell Morren, my editors, Corina Calsing and Raven McKnight, to Mitch for teaching me about poker, and for the title and premise. And to the Quad for having me on board.

  Prologue

  Women, the goddesses of Heaven, seek to descend toward Earth to acquire the yang essences of males to maintain their goddess position, as men seek to ascend upward to Heaven from Earth to attain the yin essence of females to become gods.

  ‑‑ Madame Lin from The White Tigress Manual

  Tibet, A.D. 900

  A shadow covered the mouth of the cave.

  Tenzin registered the increase of darkness through his closed eyelids. The presence of a physical body muffled the whistling of the winds around the rocks outside, and from the depths of his meditation, which left him at rest and vibrantly attentive at the same time, his awareness expanded to include the stranger’s distress.

  No, not distress exactly. Need. Hunger.

  The stranger’s footsteps scraped, one by one, across the stone floor, making the scratch of pebbles echo through the still depths of the cave.

  Tenzin did not break his lotus posture or open his eyes, for his absorption in the mantra made movement and speech difficult. Only when the footsteps stopped directly in front of him did Tenzin drag up his eyelids.

  The visitor was breathing raggedly. Flakes of snow clung to his shaggy dark hair, eyelashes, and heavy beard stubble. His tall form emanated physical strength, it broadness hidden by layers of heavy clothing. He dropped to his knees, bringing his gaze even to Tenzin’s.

  Tenzin stared. Spirals of fear whispered through his body. Never before had he seen a pair of eyes glow like those of the man before him.

  The man’s ruggedly strong facial features showed he was from a different part of the world. His eyes, gleaming like tiny lanterns, were large and round. Thick raven hair rioted about his face and jaw, matching the heavy stubble on his cheeks. His skin, a swarthy reddish color, also had a strange glow about it.

  Tenzin’s heartbeat rose. No normal man’s eyes would appear like this. Tibetan culture was rich in demon lore. Could this possibly be the legendary son of the brag srin mo, the ogress of the hills? The creature was a myth, supposedly, but in this wild land of snows, anything could lurk, unseen indefinitely by the human eye. This demon son was said to crave human flesh and blood as its food. Which meant that the lust in those glowing eyes was bloodlust…

  Remaining in his lotus posture, Tenzin tried to imagine what Lord Buddha would have done if confronted with a demon such as this. In truth, the Buddha had faced many demons by understanding their emptiness. Those, however, had been his inner demons, apparitions which he’d learned had no substance other than what the power of his mind gave them.

  The being in front of him, on the other hand, was quite real. Of flesh and blood, judging by the feral scent radiating off his skin and clothing, barely masked by the incense Tenzin had lit before meditation. Facing such a…man…as this, with eyes glowing, hunger palpable… Tenzin had no example on which to draw, no one to help him.

  He was truly, utterly alone.

  “I am a simple monk,” he managed to say. His voice mingled with the panting breath of the stranger. “I have nothing to offer but a cup of yak butter tea and my company in this wild land.” Tenzin swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry and tight.

  The man remained silent. He curled back his upper lip to reveal a pair of gleaming fangs, their smooth, sharp whiteness like that of a snow leopard’s incisors.

  Tenzin refused to break his posture, refused to run. He came from a strong people, people whose strength was compassion, not violence. He had no defense against a creature like this, whose hunger would probably drive him to take Tenzin’s life. As a monk who’d devoted all of his four and thirty years to prayer and meditation, he would die with dignity, face the death for which he’d been preparing since birth.

  He made his choice none too soon.

  The stranger grabbed his shoulders, his grip powerful, inescapable. The pressure of his hands rooted Tenzin down on his hassock. The man-creature leaned toward him, his lips curled back, fangs flashing in the lantern glow.

  The demon’s hot breath pulsed across the side of Tenzin’s neck, just before he licked the supple skin. The sensation was surprisingly pleasant. A groan vibrated in the demon’s throat. The sound trilled against Tenzin’s skin, and his body tingled in a sensuous way that, though he tried to fight it, aroused him, made his body want what was happening to him.

  A sudden prick of pain made Tenzin jolt. His breath hitched as the fangs sank into his skin. He groaned softly as pleasure invaded his body, swirling with icy heat in his gut and down into his cock. His eyelids fluttered, and then all the tension in his body ran out like water in a stream.

  The demon slid his fangs out. Tenzin sighed and tilted his head a bit more as soft lips closed over the wound. The sensation was intensely pleasurable, like the eruption of seed from his male stem. As a monk, he’d foregone the pleasure of women but had used his own hand, enough to know…

  Tenzin’s mind relaxed, emptied of thought in the way he’d striven for in meditation. The crags of the cave’s interior, cast in shadows by the lantern light, now blurred in his vision, and he heard only the whistle of the winds outside and the murmurs of satisfaction as the demon drank his blood.

  Tenzin moaned. Pleasure now spread to every part of his body, covered the surface of his skin, made him tingle right to the tips of his fingers and toes. His vision blurred, and his own heartbeat now crashed in his ears, each pulse punctuated by the ecstatic suction of the demon’s lips.

  Moment by moment, Tenzin’s heartbeat slowed. Beat by beat, he heard the decreased rhythm, and the world around him began to fade. His vision grew darker and his body sagged like a limp doll in the demon’s iron grip.

  The demon lifted his lips away from Tenzin’s neck and looked at him. The creature’s eyes still glowed, and droplets of blood clung to his lips. The demon leaned into Tenzin again and licked the punctures. The moist warmth against the tiny wounds sent more waves of unfathomable pleasure through Tenzin’s b
ody.

  Tenzin groaned again. His likpa was fully erect under his monk’s robes, in spite of his weakened state. His eyelids fluttered; his head tilted back. And then the world went black.

  * * * * *

  Tenzin opened his eyes. His mind and body felt as if they were floating. He blinked, becoming aware of the shadows flickering on the cave walls. As consciousness seeped into his body, he opened his mouth, only to find his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth by terrible, sticky dryness. A low rumble vibrated in his ears.

  “The sound you hear is your own hunger.”

  Tenzin blinked again. The voice spoke in his language. In the shadows, a face appeared, hovering over him. The demon. He looked more like a man now. His eyes no longer glowed but were a deep brown.

  “You’ll be all right.” The stranger knelt by his side. He held up a bag made of skins. “All I could find for you was some sheeplike animal. Until you learn to feed, this creature’s blood will have to do.” His voice was deep, smooth, and he spoke Tibetan as easily as if it were his own language.

  No. No blood. Tenzin tried to say the words out loud, but the dryness enabled him only to make a guttural sound, like a beast. Since taking his vows he’d not eaten any meat, and now this stranger was about to feed him blood.

  “I know your holy people do not eat flesh,” the demon said as if he’d heard Tenzin’s thoughts, “but you are no longer one of them.” He brought the sack of blood closer to Tenzin’s face.

  I will not drink that. Tenzin eyed the sack and shrank back as much as his strength would allow.

  “I’m afraid you have no choice. Blood is the food of the undead.”

  Tenzin looked up. The demon seemed to have read his mind.

  The demon grinned. “Yes, I can read your thoughts now.”

  Before Tenzin could answer, the man-creature opened the top of the skin, and the scent of blood filled the air: coppery, sweet, pungent. To his horror, Tenzin’s mouth began to water. Craving, wild, unfettered, as deep and vital as the sexual drive he’d worked so hard to overcome, now grasped him.

  He reached up and snatched the skin sack from the stranger’s hands.

  The stranger didn’t hold it back from him, but instead cradled Tenzin’s head, lifting him gently, and put the opening of the skin to Tenzin’s lips. He tilted the skin so Tenzin could drink. Tenzin pulled the man’s hand closer, closing his lips over the opening of the skin.

  Ahhh. He gulped down the warm liquid, as thick as syrup, unable to satisfy his desire until he’d drunk so much he had to pause for breath. He stopped only long enough to pant a few times, then grasped for the sack once more.

  The stranger smiled at him. His dark eyes nearly glowed again. “We have eternity together, you and I, my friend.” The voice caressed Tenzin even as the demon’s fingertips ran gently down his temple. “I will show you every pleasure that existence has to offer.”

  Tenzin drained the last of the blood from the skin, panting now from the furor with which he’d drunk the blood. Mortification gripped him. What manner of creature had this demon made of him?

  The demon passed a hand over Tenzin’s brow. “I see you are disgusted by your enjoyment of blood. Don’t worry; you’ll grow to accept that part of you just as you’ll come to crave my touch.” He slid his fingertips down Tenzin’s cheek and brushed them across the seam of his lips.

  Tenzin shut his eyes and steeled himself against the creature’s soft touch. The mere whisper of those fingertips on his skin made his likpa throb with need. Lord Buddha, help me! he prayed silently and then called up his mantra, which rose and repeated in his mind, like a beacon through the darkness of lust.

  “No one can help you now, my love,” the demon said. “Not even your gods.”

  Tenzin gritted his teeth against the demon’s arrogance and steeled his resolve not to become like this creature. “I am not yours,” he ground out. He wanted to rise, to run from the cave, back to the haven of his monastery, but the erotic thrall of the demon’s touch held him prisoner.

  The demon leaned over and pressed his lips to Tenzin’s. Back and forth he brushed them, like the touch of a silk shawl.

  Against his will, Tenzin moaned. The demon’s heavy beard stubble rasped his clean-shaven cheeks and chin. The scrape brought with it a pleasure-pain that made his entire body vibrate, throb with need. The man’s scent, a mixture of earth and musky sweat, passed into Tenzin’s senses and made his likpa harder. The tide of pleasure engulfing him threatened to drown out his years of meditation.

  Gentle fingertips caressed Tenzin’s cheek as the demon coaxed Tenzin’s lips apart with the tender probe of his tongue. Tenzin’s eyelids shuttered, and he parted his lips, sought the moist warmth of the man’s mouth with the tip of his tongue.

  A soft groan vibrated from the demon’s throat into Tenzin’s mouth, and he deepened the kiss, mated his tongue in a gentle dance with Tenzin’s. Each gentle lick of the demon’s tongue intensified that need coursing through his body.

  Tenzin felt a pair of hands scrabble at the layers of his monk’s robe. The demon yanked at the coarse material, and Tenzin felt a swirling mixture of cool air and body heat on his bared chest. The demon broke their kiss. He nipped greedily at Tenzin’s lower lip, then continued a trail of gulping bites down his throat. Each nip and lick of the demon’s tongue sent a fresh wave of heat into Tenzin’s groin. His cock pulsed hard with life and pushed against the layers of cloth still covering his lower body.

  The demon swirled a hot, eager tongue over one of his nipples. Tenzin sucked in a breath and arched his chest. His body seemed to have a will of its own, uncaring of his lifelong struggle with his desires. The demon seemed to sense his physical submission in the greedy way he suckled Tenzin’s skin.

  Tenzin fought back the urge to bury his fingers in the demon’s wild, dark hair and follow the movement of his head from one side of Tenzin’s chest to the other as he laved his nipples into tiny dark peaks.

  Suddenly, the demon’s head jerked up. His hands froze in their grasp on Tenzin’s robe. He stared down at Tenzin and placed his hand flat on hiss chest, over his heart. “This cannot be.”

  Tenzin felt his heart pound under the warmth of the demon’s hand. “What cannot be?” The lust this stranger had stirred up in Tenzin still spiraled through his body.

  “Your heart still beats.”

  “Should it not? You obviously did not kill me.”

  The demon growled. “I’ve sired you. You cannot still be alive.”

  Again, that arrogance. Tenzin sat up. Alive or not, he did not want to be under this creature’s control. He had never even belonged to the mother and father who’d created his body. The remembrance caused new strength to surge through his limbs. “As long as my heart beats in my chest, only Lord Buddha is my master.”

  “You’re mine.” The demon curled his lips back as if to prove domination by showing his fangs.

  Tenzin clenched his fists under his robes. His blood coursed hot through his body, and he found himself willing to fight this demon for his freedom.

  The demon glared at him. The glow of bloodlust once again lit his eyes. “You’re coming with me.”

  Tenzin sprang to his feet and returned the demon’s hard stare. Raw physical power infused every muscle in his body. “I will not!” He felt his own eyeballs heat, saw the glow of them reflected on the demon’s cheeks. The pressure of fangs extending from his gums filled him with a sense of power. Without thinking, he reached out and clutched the demon’s shoulder.

  The man-creature’s eyes widened. A look of fear flashed through their depths. His mouth dropped open, and he trembled as if seeing the most frightening creature imaginable in front of him. He thrashed out of Tenzin’s grasp, whirled around, and fled the cave.

  Tenzin let out a deep breath. His fangs itched, and the heat receded from his eyes. All he heard was the whistle of the cold wind outside the cave.

  For what felt like a long time, he stood and stared through the mouth of the
cave, his fists clenched, ready to fight should the demon return. What had caused the creature to run away as he had? All Tenzin had done was touch him.

  Tenzin lowered himself back onto his pallet and resumed the lotus posture. He tied his robes up around his body and made the mudra with his hands. He closed his eyes and called on his mantra. Instead of the holy word resounding in his mind, images barraged him, memories of the feel and scent of the demon’s kisses, the icy heat of that tongue on Tenzin’s nipples.

  Tenzin let the images pass. He didn’t fight them or hate them. The images shifted. He saw a woman, a beautiful woman with smooth golden skin and ripe breasts. Her dark nipples gleamed with promise and she laid back, thighs spread so that Tenzin could see the soft, inviting folds of her sex. He’d never laid eyes upon a naked woman in his life, but somehow he knew that his imaginings were true.

  His cock hardened again. His mouth watered with the desire to smell and taste that hidden part, to bury his likpa deep inside it. The need was as raw, as powerful as it had been under the demon’s erotic thrall.

  The images never ceased. He squeezed his eyes shut and remained faithful to his mantra in spite of the burning needs of his body. He pulled a string of prayer beads from the depths of his robe and counted off a bead for each beat of the mantra. Perhaps if he meditated long enough, the craving would subside, as it had in the past.

  He was wrong. In the several days that followed, the cravings worsened. The hunger returned and rumbled deep in his belly. With a will of its own, Tenzin’s body rose from the pallet and drove him through the mouth of the cave, to the world beyond. He let himself be led, driven by the instincts he’d struggled so long to master, to a place where he could get blood.

  Horrified at his ache to taste coppery, sweet blood, he knew his body would never rest until the hunger was satiated.

 

‹ Prev