by Danika Kane
Slapping his hand against the door, he shoved the hard wood inward until both hit the doorjamb. Even in the dim lighting of the wall sconces and the fire blazing in the stone fireplace, he could make out the fear on the young man’s face. The dark-haired boy couldn’t be more than twenty-five, his needs still evidenced by his hard cock standing at full attention, the cock ring keeping him nice and stiff. Growling, he allowed the guttural sound to filter into the room as he advanced, keeping his eyes pinned on the shimmering face of the boy.
“Delicious,” he whispered, the tone barely more than a savage hiss. Tonight, he was hungrier than usual, a concept the boy couldn’t have known when he’d ventured into the darkened club, one meant for all things kinky. Sakima was a businessman first, after all, and owned many corporations. His kink club was his favorite. Perhaps because he was easily able to secure men for his particular needs.
He concentrated on the way the chains sounded as the boy struggled. For him metal against metal was a powerful aphrodisiac. Moving further into the room, he held up his hand, twisting his wrist. Sighing, he nodded as the lights lowered. Sakima certainly didn’t need any light to indulge in his savage needs, his joyous proclivities.
As he inched closer to the boy, he inhaled the seductive scent of terror mixed with sweat. No matter the fear coursing through the boy, he was indeed sexually stimulated. “Very nice.” Closing the distance, he tilted his head as he raked his nails down the boy’s chest to his groin and wrapped his hand around the base of the boy’s cock. “What’s your name?”
“Je… Jeffrey.”
“Well, Jeffrey. You’re going to make me very happy tonight as I assure you I will you.” Sakima jerked off his shirt as he walked toward the small bar nestled in the corner, tossing the material onto the floor. He lifted the decanter top, pouring the brandy and inhaling the rich aroma. As he poured a hefty amount in to a snifter, he gazed toward the fire, his thoughts drifting to Caldre. The man had spunk as well as good looks. He would make a fine fighter with nurturing and hard work.
He would also make an incredible mate. Swirling the glass, he growled, dragging his tongue across his sharp fangs. The very realization a human was this important was almost debilitating. Almost. He took a long drink of the fine cognac and closed his eyes, imagining days of the past. He swallowed, the burn in the back of his throat always giving him a slight taste of being human again. The moment was just enough to keep his emotions, as well as his needs, in check.
After another drink, he set the glass down and cut his eyes to the boy. On this night, he had no patience for frivolities. He simply wanted to fuck and feed quickly. Swaggering over to the boy, he brushed his hands up and down the boy’s chest to his groin, enjoying the feel of his warm skin, the way he smelled. Sakima glanced up at the chains holding him in place and wanted to be in total control tonight. Nothing less would do.
“Tell me, Jeffrey. Have you had a man before?”
“No, sir. I… No, sir,” Jeffrey whispered. His voice was strangled, breathless.
“Mmm. Well, I assure you after tonight you’re going to want more.” Chuckling, he unfastened the boy, pulling Jeffery’s tense frame into his chest. Lifting his body with ease, he moved Jeffrey toward the fire, positioning his stomach over the back of his favorite leather chair. “Now stay put while I ready myself.” He couldn’t help but purr as he unfastened his pants, freeing his thick and throbbing cock. Exhaling slowly, he rubbed his hand under his balls, cupping and squeezing. They were not nearly swollen enough. He needed to feed.
As he walked behind Jeffrey, kicking the boy’s legs apart, he grunted and continued rubbing and twisting his balls. The slip of pain felt good, damn good. Very gently he rubbed his other hand down the length of Jeffrey’s spine and smiled. There was nothing like indulging on a young man, one who wasn’t tainted by drugs or disease. They seemed so rare these days. Leaning over, he licked across the back of the boy’s neck. “You taste so sweet. So good to me. You’re going to be delicious to feed on.”
“Feed? I…” A strangled moan escaped his lips. He twisted his body, trying desperately to see what Sakima was doing.
Rolling his eyes into the back of his head, he shifted, hearing the delectable sound of his bones crunching as his body adjusted, transforming into the monster he truly was. As he lowered his head, watching the perfect licks of the fire, an element that could either be his salvation or his damnation, he allowed a low-slung guttural howl to escape his lips.
“What? What are you doing?” Real terror sounds escaped his lips and Jeffrey pushed up from the chair, his back slamming against Sakima.
Sakima threw his head back and roared as he wrapped one arm around Jeffrey’s neck and with the other hand pressed the tip of his cock to the boy’s asshole.
“No! What are you doing?”
He clamped around Jeffrey’s neck, jerking him back. The force of the pull thrust the entire length of his dick deep into Jeffrey’s ass.
“No!”
Instantly he sunk his fangs into the boy’s neck, twisting his head until Jeffrey was completely immobilized.
“Argh…grrr…” His arms flailing for several seconds, Jeffrey struggled, slapping hard against Sakima.
Sakima grunted and pulled out his cock, shoving in again, the inertia pushing his fangs in deeper. The taste of the boy was unexpected, rich with an incredible flavor, and he closed his eyes, doing everything he could to control his intake. This wasn’t about killing but consuming.
Jeffrey’s body began to jerk involuntarily, bubbles of saliva dripping from his mouth. Strangled cries continued to slip past his lips for a full minute.
When the boy began to calm, his breathing ragged but much easier, he thrust in and out of the boy’s asshole in slow, deliberate moves, every move pushing the boy’s stomach hard against the back of the chair. The rhythm became orchestrated, almost perfect.
Sakima fell into his own heightened level of senses, his balls swelling with semen, his body filling with the blood he needed desperately. As the boy fell into his own level of pure rapture, finally succumbing to the monster who held his life in his hands, Sakima closed his eyes and savored the way the orgasm raced from his legs to the tip of his shaft. The second he exploded his load into the boy’s dark hole, he could do nothing but think about Caldre and the fact he would claim the man as his mate soon.
Very soon.
Chapter 2
Caldre sat with his legs in the hot tub nursing a drink and studying the full moon. His body ached but the fight left every cell infused with adrenaline. Not only had he won the match but he’d met what he considered to be one of the most interesting men in the sport. And to think Sakima Mato considered his talent to be in the leagues as Stash was beyond expected. Could he really be that good? He’d read as much as he could about Stash and his fighting skills on more than one occasion and the truth was, the fighter used questionable tactics and very harsh ones. The fact he’d put so many men in the hospital, at least two with career ending injuries was something he had to really think about. Was he cut of the same kind of cloth?
Then again, did he want to be? He was aware he had an inner beast, an entity full of usually controlled rage. He had no real control over his raw emotions. Every day that they spilled over into firefighting he risked lives. For years he’d tried everything from running to boxing. Karate had seemed boring, tame in comparison. He enjoyed the battle, maybe too much. Even the thought of blood and possible permanent injuries wasn’t daunting. He wanted it all and he wanted the nagging nightmares to stop, to leave him the fuck alone. Sadly, he knew they’d never leave. At least not until Michael’s death meant something. He’d never forgiven himself for the circumstances and for the argument they’d had, the last words spoken. Life turned on a dime.
He rubbed his eyes before taking a sip of his drink. Michael had been a special breed of man, one who lived life to its fullest. Even in the last days, which were very dark for a man who had been so full of vivacity, he’d bee
n a sensuous person. Still, the odd warnings given to Caldre over more than one drunken fest would never leave him but he had no idea what his lover’s words truly meant. Dreams and evil. You have a destiny. Don’t be afraid to take what is yours. Whatever that meant. Those were the words he continued to think about after Michael’s death. Well, Michael would enjoy the fact he was a fighter.
He replayed the fight over in his mind as well as the words Sakima had said. His form did suck, his moves stilted. No matter how hard he’d tried to put everything together, he hadn’t been able to truly find a groove. Chuckling, he shook his head. Groove. Wasn’t that a ridiculous word to use? What he needed was a kick ass mojo, something other fighters feared. He wanted to enter a facility and have people stare in shock and awe. Yeah, he was ready for more. Harder training. Brutal coaching.
What he’d learned had been a combination of watching others in the sport and trial and error. There was no playbook he went by. While Coach Reynolds had certainly given him some direction and training, the fact was Caldre felt alone in what he was doing. He took another gulp of his drink before easing down the glass and slipping into the water. Instantly the warmth and bubbles soothed his aching muscles. He leaned in against the edge and wondered whether he could allow himself to consider another coach.
Well, the question he had to answer was did he really want to do something more with his fighting career or was this merely about dispensing with his private demons? He knew the answer and had known. Mixed martial arts was about so many aspects of physicality as well as cunning intelligence and he was… no, he could be an incredible contender.
Grinning, he slipped further into the water, closing his eyes and envisioned the accolades of winning a state competition, perhaps national. A single moan escaped his lips. He’d love to hold the title but he knew further competition would cause issues with the fire department, or at least he suspected there could be an issue. He certainly didn’t want to take the chance. The top contenders would be selected to go to the championship match in less than two weeks. If he didn’t make the cut, he’d already made a promise to himself he’d stop trying. Then he’d go to a psychiatrist to see if someone with a doctorate degree could figure out what the hell was wrong with him. Now he burst into laughter. Maybe his raging libido? “Dumb ass.”
Turning over, he took another sip of his drink before sliding his arms out onto the smooth deck and lowering his head. As the water pulsed against his back and legs, he smiled and thought about the strange sensations he’d felt around Sakima. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a lover, at least on a regular basis. He was hot and horny half the time and had been almost terrified to date anyone given the fact few knew he was gay. As if his sexual orientation should matter. He was the one to blame for his fears, not his friends or co-workers. Yes, he’d tried marriage, failing horribly, his ugly attempt to hide behind a mask.
Caldre cursed under his breath. There were days he’d never be able to forgive himself. If only he’d been honest with her. No, if only he’d been honest with himself those years they’d dated. Groaning, he rubbed his eyes. There was no sense in wasting concerns. She was happily married with twins on the way and lived just about as far away from him as she could get. Almost to the day she walked out the door, he’d met Michael. Merely thinking his name filled him with sadness. The supposed love and his life had been ripped away. “Jesus.”
He turned over again, growing more and more restless. Even the water wasn’t soothing him any longer. Antsy, he slapped his hand down on top of the deck and pushed up onto the edge, grabbing a drink and taking a gulp, polishing off the rest. From the alcohol to the warm water he was growing sleepy. As he leaned back against the deck he thought about the day he had off and slowly decided he was going to talk to Sakima, find out what the man was about. Talking wasn’t going to hurt and wasn’t a commitment at all. He could simply set up an appointment and see what the guy was about. A couple of weeks and then the decision would be made for him anyway.
Yeah, that sounded reasonable. Hell, he’d already programmed the man’s number into his phone and there was no time like the present, at least before he chickened out. Laughing softly, he leaned back further and grabbed his cell phone, searching through until he found the contact. He debated for another full minute, concerned he was being disloyal. Then he dialed the number and sucked in his breath.
“Caldre Parker. I had a feeling you’d call.”
The sensuous tone of the man’s voice caught him off guard. “How did you know who was calling?”
“I make it my business to check out anyone I make an offer to. That is why you’re calling, isn’t it? You’re interested in talking with me about my coaching abilities? You’re ready to take your career into a level few are able to achieve?” Sakima’s questions were pointed.
“Yeah.”
“There should never be any doubt in your mind or in the words you speak to me. Is that understood?”
Caldre hesitated, a shiver trickling down his back. The man’s command was powerful. Taken aback, he hesitated before answering. “Yes. That’s exactly why I’m calling. I want more. No, I need more.” He was surprised as his own level of conviction.
“Better. We’ll work on basic authority first. What did you have in mind, Mr. Parker?”
“I have tomorrow off and was wondering…”
“If we could meet,” Sakima interrupted.
“Yes, if that’s not being too intrusive.”
“Quite the contrary. I’m very glad you called and you’re going to learn to ask for exactly what you want and eventually you’ll sound convincing.”
Caldre exhaled slowly. The man was arrogant as hell.
“Good. You know your place. I do believe we could have an incredible business relationship together. What time would be good for you?”
For some reason Caldre was nervous, a tick appearing in the corner of his mouth. He swallowed hard and pressed his hand over the corner of his lips. “Around noon?”
“Why don’t you make it around four and we can have dinner together, get to know each other over a bottle of wine, a rare steak?”
Why did he have the distinct feeling Sakima was asking him out for a date? He was intrigued. “That sounds perfect. Four it is. Where would you like to meet?”
“My house. I have an incredible chef I hire from time to time. I also have a training facility here so you can see what you might be getting yourself into. I’ll email you directions. Sound reasonable?”
“Perfect. Yes. I look forward to it.”
“Excellent. So am I. I must warn you, however. I am a brutal man and I expect total conviction as well as submission to everything that I ask of you, no matter what that is. Do you understand?” Sakima’s tone was dark, foreboding.
The words hung in the air as if he was supposed to be afraid. For some reason, he wasn’t. He was turned on as hell. “Then I’ll give you nothing less,” Caldre said quietly.
“Good. Very good indeed. Until tomorrow.”
As the call ended, Caldre sucked in his breath and realized he was shivering. “Whoa.”
Sakima walked into his office before nine on a stormy Friday morning, a languishing series of thoughts racing into his mind. The investors were breathing down his neck and the single report on Stash’s evening escapades was not the information he wanted to wake up to, especially not as front-page news. If he didn’t need the win, he’d fire the asshole for breach of contract. Unfortunately, Stash was well aware of his status and used the fact to his benefit as he gallivanted around the city, taking men and women like collector’s pieces. Well known for his sexual proclivities, Stash was as savage in bed as he was in the ring. Something was going to have to be done about the asshole before he single-handedly took down Sakima’s company. And his wealth. The investors weren’t going to stand for much more.
As he sat down he thought about the night ahead of him, unable to get Caldre off his mind. The young man was enigmatic, and not just beca
use of his fighting skills. Inhaling deeply, he could swear the tangy scent of the man remained in his nostrils. Or perhaps he was just remembering the other boy. Oh yes, Jeffrey. The taste of him lingered, giving him new hunger pangs. Growling inwardly, he couldn’t deny the fact he needed to feed more often. The realization left him concerned about the future. Could he potentially be able to train Caldre into becoming the man he required, the fighter he had to have?
Only time and training would tell. If Caldre was to become a champion, the young man would indeed have to follow every direction. But could he? Training. The word also meant something else and the double entendre he wasn’t certain he was ready for. If Caldre was his mate, intense training would be required to keep him from becoming a killer. Caldre was right on the edge of becoming one. Sniffing, he continued to ache all over.
The dreaded curse of his kind, kill or be killed. Find your mate and perhaps become human again. Bullshit. No amount of spirituality made any of this any better. He’d refused to believe in anything after the day of the massacre. The wretched day he’d hunted by himself, his thoughts of becoming a bigger man, a powerful Indian in the ranks of the camp. His pride had kept him alive while everyone he’d ever cared about had perished. Born in fire. Ending in fire. Swallowing hard, he would never forget seeing the plume of smoke as he raced back to find his camp in flames, the eerie silence worse than the screams of agony that plagued him every day of his life. And his death.
While he felt better after having fed, the ugly thoughts were still there pushing to the forefront of his mind. He wasn’t going to be able to pretend the curse wasn’t real forever. All his running, all the remaining humanity left in him had helped in what manner? The truth was his human side had made him more vulnerable.