by Emma Jaye
After the bald man punched him, stealing his breath, the youngest one, the one with the dark hair, had scooped him up as if he weighed nothing.
“Come, my dear. If you’re good, that doesn’t need to happen again.”
Ezra concentrated on getting air into paralysed lungs as the dark-haired man carried outside and into a carriage. The man with the sandalwood scent cradled Ezra on his lap, rubbed his back and whispered that everything would be alright.
“You’re one weird bloke, Silas.” The man who had punched him sneered.
Silas didn’t stop drawing circles on Ezra’s back through his thin shirt. Now that spots no longer danced before his eyes, and he could breathe again, Ezra felt hard flesh pressing up against his hip. He might be a virgin, but he recognised a hard cock when he felt one.
They were sitting on the opposite side of the carriage to the door. He couldn’t see the street because of the pulled blinds, but they couldn’t have come too far. If I can get out, I could– Ezra stayed limp, lulling them into a false sense of security while he plotted.
Silas’s icy voice replied to his companion. “Be careful what you say, Morvan. I’m still his heir. And don’t hit him again. He’s not adult yet; you could kill him. As it is, Father won’t be pleased that you’ve marked him.”
“How do you know I made a bruise? I barely tapped him.” Despite his words, Morvan sounded worried.
If Silas’s father scared this vicious brute, Ezra never wanted to meet him.
“Shall we check?” Silas said, pulling at Ezra’s shirt where it tucked into his trousers. The action kicked Ezra back to the here and now. If they touch me; if they...
Eyes focused on the door handle, he lunged forward.
The bald vampire caught him around the middle before his grasping hand reached the brass handle.
“Fuck off, fucking let go.” Ezra kicked and struggled, fear lending strength to his limbs but Morvan pinned his arms to his sides without difficulty.
“Stop fighting,” Silas said, his voice tight. “Can’t you tell you’re turning him on?”
Morvan grunted as Silas’s elbow found his gut, but it didn’t persuade his captor to relax his grip.
“Maybe that ability only comes when they’re adult.” The bald man chuckled.
Ezra’s fear shifted to anger; the bastard was laughing at him. “Fuck off, pervert.”
The man holding him let out a deep, booming laugh. “Oh, you have no idea.”
“Morvan,” the voice from the other side of the carriage was sharp. “Keep him quiet, one thing we don’t need is attention.”
Ezra took the hint and screamed ‘help’ loud enough to rattle the windows.
Morvan’s hand, which had been holding Ezra’s bicep from underneath his body, slapped across his mouth.
The man’s eyes started to glow. Ezra couldn’t look away. What the hell is he?
“No compulsion, remember? He was very clear about being the first,” Silas warned.
Morvan growled in frustration. His eyes lost the glow, although he didn’t break eye contact. “Shut up, or I really will hurt you.”
The thought of the punch not being ‘really hurt’ had Ezra’s mouth snapping shut.
A vicious smile graced Morvan’s lips, but his eyes didn’t leave Ezra’s. “See, fancy pants? All it takes is a little gentle persuasion.”
A pungent, sweet, unfamiliar scent pervaded the jostling dark space, but Ezra didn’t dare look away. That would involve turning his head. The thought of exposing his neck to this grinning man sent a shiver up his spine.
“And you’re planning on holding him like that the entire way?” Silas said.
“Won’t have too. Ezra and I are coming to an understanding, aren’t we, boy?” A rough hand cupped his face. “You don’t mind if I look at you, do you?” Morvan’s other shovel-like hand moved to Ezra’s rough cotton shirt, pulled it free and lifted the hem.
Fear lanced through him at the thought of becoming an adult sex demon, of becoming anything like his mother. His jaw snapped shut, closing around yielding flesh. Morvan tore his hand out of Ezra’s mouth. The bloody hand fastened in his hair, wrenching his head back. His eyes widened at the sight of Morvan’s elongated canine teeth; they hadn’t been there before.
Fangs. Fuck, they’re vampires, they’re fucking vampires. A small whimper left him as the vampire’s eyes focused on his exposed neck. I’m going to die, right here, right now.
He couldn’t move, couldn’t do a damn thing as the fangs descended toward his vulnerable throat. If he hadn’t had a piss before he heard the disturbance in the hallway, he would have lost control of his bladder.
“Stop.” The muffled single word from Silas gave him a spark of hope. If they fight over me, perhaps I can use the distraction to–
Morvan’s gaze swept down Ezra’s body, breaking the spell of his eyes. Ezra’s heart stuttered at the hiss that emerged from the vampire. Ezra didn’t twitch a muscle, fearing any movement would drew the vampire’s attention even more. He’d thought animals ‘playing dead’ when confronted by a powerful predator was a stupid strategy; he didn’t any more.
“Fabian will kill you,” Silas’s voice was less muffled. “I bet he tastes damn good, but is it worth your head leaving your neck?”
Morvan’s fierce snarl relaxed a fraction. Ezra remained frozen, praying that they’d somehow forget about him. He could almost hear his heart pounding, advertising his tasty blood.
Silas sounded bored as he continued. “I won’t try to stop you, probably couldn’t anyway, but if you feed he’ll hunt you down. And that doesn’t bother me one iota; you know how fond I am of you, you uncouth, ugly, son of a bitch. Unfortunately, if you’re downgraded to fertilizer, I might be promoted to his second as well as his heir. And you know how I hate politics.”
Ezra took a shallow breath as Morvan’s fangs retracted; he hadn’t realised he’d been holding it.
“Let me put him to sleep,” Silas suggested, “then we–”
“You think I need help to do that?” The growl was back, but Ezra risked a glance at Silas.
The younger vampire rolled his eyes. “Please, enough with the machismo. If you think you can knock him out without compulsion or leaving a hint of a bruise, go ahead. Don’t forget, he’s human right now, any bruises will last. It’s also why this stuff will work, for now at least.”
The sound of a bottle clicking against wood made Ezra’s mind whirl. No longer being on the menu was a plus, but his gut churned as they spoke about him like a dumb animal going to slaughter. Don’t they realise I can understand them? Maybe I can use that they think I’m stupid. A slaughterman would never suspect a cow could open a cattle pen.
“I can look at him after?” Morvan looked down at him, licking his lips.
A halo of golden light surrounded the vampire. For a moment, Ezra thought he’d gone mad before he recognised the glow as lust. For a moment, he felt flattered, then anger at his reaction flooded him. He twisted and kicked, trying to get free of the vampire and his own unwanted reaction. I’m not like my mother, not a piece of fluff to be drooled over, pawed and fucked, used and forgotten.
Silas grinned at his colleague. “Tell me again, how old are you?”
Morvan scowled as he held onto Ezra without effort. “A hell of lot older than you.”
Silas chuckled. “Well I won’t tell if you have a bit of a feel as long as there are no marks, and you don’t trigger the change. You know how much he wants–”
Ezra bucked in the bigger vampire’s grasp. “No, no don’t. I can’t–”
A damp cloth that stank of the unfamiliar chemical pressed over his nose and mouth.
SILAS KNELT IN THE space between the seats. Morvan’s grip in the boy’s hair kept him relatively still while Silas held the chloroform soaked cloth to his face.
The fear radiating from their captive as the drug invaded his system went straight to his dick.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” Morvan groaned. “Eve
n over that stink he smells like a female in heat.”
“Don’t worry; this won’t hurt. It’ll just make the journey to your new home more comfortable. Breath deep and relax. I’ve got you.”
Keeping his smile in place, Silas pressed the cloth against the boy’s nose and mouth even harder as he thrashed in Morvan’s unyielding grip. His eyes fixed on Silas, pleading, begging. During this brief connection, he was everything to the immature incubus. Words of reassurance poured from his mouth unbidden. For a count of five, brown eyes bugged, then the movements slowed, his eyes rolled, grew heavy, closed, his fingers relaxed their frantic grip on his wrist, and his body went limp.
Silas nearly came in his trousers. The surrender, even though a chemically induced one, was so damn sweet. He hoped Morvan assumed he was making sure the drug had done its job as he continued to hold the cloth to the boy’s slack face. In reality, if he moved, the friction of his trousers on his dick might cause significant embarrassment in front of the older demon.
“Fuck, that made me so damn horny. I really, really want to wreck his hole–” Morvan’s voice was hoarse with desire.
“Well you can’t, not yet.” Silas snapped as he got back up on the seat. The thought of Morvan fulfilling his desire sent an unexpected spark of disgust through him, but Silas couldn’t stop it, even if he wanted to. It was going to happen, and Ezra would need comfort and care afterward. That thought cheered Silas a little.
“If you’re hoping I don’t know you want to fuck him just as much as I do, you’re more stupid that you think I am.” Morvan’s gaze focused on Silas’s crotch.
“Oh, shut up.” Silas’s frown produced a grin from the older vampire.
They both drank in the beautiful, limp body in Morvan’s arms. Silas itched to hold and touch him while he was senseless. The desire was an unfamiliar one. Yes, he knew he was odd for a vampire as violence didn’t sexually excite him. Silas preferred his human prey to capitulate without compulsion, to offer their throats because of his soft words, despite being frightened. If they passed out, they were merely a meal.
Morvan got turned on by his prey struggling while he fed or fucked, so he could understand why the other vampire was turned on.
But he couldn’t understand why tearing his eyes away from the fragile incubus seemed impossible. The way his long, delicate eyelashes brushed his cheeks, the dusky pink lips, open and reddened by Silas pressing the cloth to them, enthralled him. By Satan’s bollocks, he’s beautiful.
His focus was broken when Morvan’s thick fingers undid the top button of Ezra’s shirt. Regret for saying Morvan could examine the new clan asset washed over him. He felt... possessive? Which would lead to nothing but pain. The threat that his father would kill anyone who attempted to take this prize from him had been explicit. Son or second in command, it wouldn’t matter if they crossed Fabian, they’d die.
Morvan was revealing the dusky skin far quicker than Silas wanted, each inch should be savoured and enjoyed. Morvan was unwrapping him like a grocery delivery, not a priceless gift. Nevertheless, Silas couldn’t tear his eyes away in case he missed something. This body would never be in such a pristine condition again; Silas wanted to drink it in and imprint it on his memory.
At least the ugly bruise on the bottom of the boy’s ribs was red, rather than black. That the mark wasn’t any bigger than a fist meant the chances of an internal injury were low. However, Silas would still keep a close eye on the boy’s condition. Use of the aesthetic would have to be minimal so he didn’t miss any deterioration.
Having to wake his adult nature to heal him from a possibly fatal injury, might be an excuse Fabian would accept without bloodshed, but it was a risk. That he was even considering the lie, piqued his interest.
Morvan glanced up at his fellow vampire. “I didn’t hit him that hard.”
Silas indicated the bruise with his finger. “You did. There’s the evidence. Once he’s adult it won’t matter, sex demons heal nearly as fast as we do, but until then, we’ll have to be careful. Verbal control, and if that doesn’t work, chloroform and restraint, not compulsion or hitting, agreed?”
“Yeah, I suppose so. Do you think we should check the rest of him?”
Silas let out a sigh. “You want to see his arse.”
Morvan’s lips pursed. “And I suppose you, Mr Goody Two Shoes, don’t want to see what he looks like before your father gets hold of him?”
“He’s an incubus; he’ll heal.” Silas tried to avoid the issue, but he wasn’t fooling either of them.
“Bollocks to that. You saw what the last one was like near the end.”
The two men looked at each other for a moment longer before Morvan tugged on the boy’s belt. Silas didn’t stop him.
His dick was long, thick and perfectly straight. No pubic hair and perfectly round, tight balls. Built to please. The urge to lean forward, to see how he tasted hit Silas like a train. To be the first person to–
Morvan flipped the unconscious boy over. “Fuck, would you look at that...” The reverence in the brutish vampire’s voice was almost comical, but Silas had to agree.
Ezra’s backside was firm, rounded, and smooth enough to make a young woman cry with envy. Blood flooded into Silas’s cock as he imagined that roundness pressed against his groin, his dick encased in wet heat as Ezra writhed and begged for more beneath him.
Leaving Ezra’s face squashed on the seat of the carriage, Morvan grasped the boy’s butt cheeks and pulled them apart. His tight hole was the same dusky pink as his lips and begging for something to push inside it. Silas ached to be the one. Finger, tongue, cock, he didn’t really care. Sex demons could provide lubrication, anywhere. It was an ability as essential to their feeding as a vampire possessing fangs. Yes, Ezra wasn’t a functioning incubus yet, but his mother had been right, his body, if not his mind, wanted the next stage of his existence.
Ezra’s hole winked at him. Silas nearly jumped out of his skin. Morvan’s deep chuckle made his face heat.
“What? I didn’t know anyone could do that when unconscious, I–”
A slight moan accompanied Ezra’s hips pressing against Morvan’s thighs. The big man flipped his captive over.
Ezra’s erection was disproportionate to his size. It lay, long, blushing and proud against his belly, the tip a little higher than his belly button. Clear fluid leaked from the head, enough to lubricate his way inside any hole he wanted to fill. Fuck, what would that feel like inside me?
When Silas pulled his gaze from the mesmerising sight, a glance proved Morvan’s hands weren’t somewhere they shouldn’t be. Is he having a sex dream? Could he do that as a virgin? Fuck, if he’s not virgin, Father’s going to go–
“Are you hard?” Morvan’s inquiry was a bucket of cold water.
“What sort of question is that?”
The deep chuckle came again. “Oh, this is rich, something Mr Educated doesn’t know. He’s reacting to you, to both of us, to tell the truth.”
Silas frowned. “What d’you mean?”
“He’s an incubus,” Morvan said as if that explained everything. The boy moaned, although still not fully conscious, his hand moved sluggishly toward his wide-awake erection.
A double tap on the roof signalled they were nearing the train station for the main phase of their journey.
Silas reached for the chloroform cloth. The last thing they needed was a bunch of humans running to the aid of a distressed young man.
“Give him here,” Silas ordered. For a moment, Morvan’s scowl suggested he might disobey. “You’re here for security, right? You can’t do that if you’re carrying him. Besides, you need to make sure the train carriage is available. I don’t think having him in a first-class carriage is going to work is it?”
The horses slowed from a trot to a walk and then stopped. The carriage bobbed on its suspension.
“Sex demons react to other people’s horniness a bit like we do to fresh bleeding wounds. You smelt it, your fangs pop out so you’re
ready to feed. We can extend our fangs at will too; lesser demons don’t have that control.
“For him, if you get wood; he’ll get wood. If no one around him is horny, nothing happens. That raddled old hag kept him isolated, so that might be the first hard-on he’s ever had; shame to waste it. I’ll be back in half an hour. You owe me one.”
Morvan dumped the half-dressed incubus on Silas’s lap, and left the carriage without another word. Silas’s heart stuttered as Ezra let out a whimper of distress and rubbed his cheek against his chest.
Silas picked up the cloth and placed it gently against the beautiful face. Ezra moaned, his eyes screwed shut as he weakly attempted to push the cloth away. The thought of the thin layer of cloth between Ezra’s naked backside and Silas’s hard dick almost made him groan. A slight clothing re-arrangement and he would be buried balls deep in that perfect arse. Ezra would groan, squirm and beg, as Silas controlled his pain, his pleasure. But he couldn’t, he really couldn’t. Not yet.
“Shh, my dear, everything’s going to be fine. I’ll take care of you. Trust me.”
The warm body gradually relaxed. Silas removed the cloth, imagining it was him producing the effect rather than a drug. He wasn’t sure how much chloroform would be harmful, but the boy needed to be fully clothed to be carried through the station. They’d already come up with a ‘he’s a nervous passenger so he drinks,’ excuse for nosy humans.
Silas stood and lay his burden on the seat opposite. The boy was exposed from throat to knee. His arm hung over the edge of the seat, the back of his hand against the grubby floor. Silas picked it up and folded it across his chest, not wanting anything to mar his beauty. Apart from the bruise Morvan had produced, Ezra’s skin was an even light brown, soft, and utterly flawless. He wanted to lick every inch of it.
Shaking his head at being led around by his dick, Silas knelt, reached for the top of the boy’s shirt and did up the buttons one by one.
He got as far as the one between the dark pink nipples before he gave in, leaned forward and licked the perfect bud. Life, there was so much life throbbing under his tongue; Silas wanted to bathe, own and wallow in it. The boy tasted of vanilla, sweet, savoury and addictive. No wonder most sex demons had humans following them around like zombies.