City of Dragons: Of Flesh and Blood

by Wilder, Adrienne

  Haley sighed. “You need to feed.”

  “Damn it. I know.” Orin buried both hands so tight in his mousey brown hair it could only hurt. “Fuck.”

  Deshi said, “Tell me what you need to make this easier for you.”

  Orin’s head came up and his sea-foam green eyes were filled with disbelief. Or maybe it was distrust. Haley wasn’t so sure which, but it was eating him up, whatever it was.

  Then his stare hit her and he clenched them shut. “Her being dressed, for one.”

  Deshi’s eyes grazed over Haley once, before coming back to her face. The corners of his mouth curled up.

  “I’ll get another shirt. That one was soaked.” Haley went to the fancy trunk sitting in the corner. On the bottom part there were four drawers. She pulled two out before finding a neatly folded T-shirt. Haley slid it on and came back to the bed.

  “Better?”

  Orin cracked his eyelids and nodded.

  “What else?” Deshi asked.

  Orin moved closer. “Just don’t…don’t touch me. I’m not my strongest right now and I don’t want to lose control.”

  Haley and Deshi both nodded.

  Orin unfolded himself and stood up. He slid across the bed behind the Prince, stopping about a foot away.

  “Tilt your head,” Orin said, and Deshi obeyed. He put a hand on Deshi’s shoulder to steady himself but it was clear in the way Orin hesitated, the way his face bunched up, he didn’t even want that slight contact. Haley slid herself to the floor and positioned herself between Deshi’s knees. She laid a palm on the inside of his leg and stroked his thigh. When she looked up, Orin’s eyes were too wide and his knuckles had turned white.

  “Do you want me to go first, or you? Or would you prefer I just leave?” Silence. Haley glanced up at Deshi. He brushed her arm in a way which said everything would be okay. Haley moved to stand.

  “No, wait!” Orin took a few quick breaths. “If I can get through this with you here, I’ll feel better, safer about everything else.”

  Haley slid back into place. “We want to help you, but you have to tell us how.”

  “Just...” He blew out another breath. “Just do whatever it is you two do. Ignore me. I’ll deal.”

  Haley hoped he was right. She moved a little closer and Deshi opened his legs. Feeding from the Prince’s inner thigh would give Orin plenty of space. It was also her favorite place to take blood from or have it taken. She brushed her hand along the underside of Deshi’s leg. The gentle roll of muscle and smoothness of his skin kissed her fingertips. Unlike Farley, Deshi was totally smooth. Details like body hair and belly buttons had been left out. When she looked at him his eyes were swimming gold, and small white points pressed against his bottom lip.

  She kissed his leg, once, twice, drew her tongue until she hit the edge of his boxers. With her left hand she pushed the edge higher, wanting a closer, more intimate position. Her fingers brushed the hardness forming under the fabric and she felt guilty. Like she was using him and giving nothing back.

  He touched the side of her head, and his thumb rolled across her cheek. Was he thinking about Emily right now? Haley hoped not. That woman didn’t even deserve his fantasy.

  Refusing to get angry and ruin this, Haley concentrated on what she was supposed to be doing. Which wasn’t too hard. Not when she ran a hand along the Jersey City Prince’s perfect bronze skin.

  Haley pressed her mouth to his flesh and felt him twitch. Her teeth ached but she wanted to taste him first so she sucked, rolling the flavor on her tongue. When she glanced up at Deshi, his eyes were closed and his bottom lip was creased from biting it. She didn’t look at Orin. She was pretending he wasn’t there.

  The burn fired up in Haley’s injured hand as her body anticipated being fed and the last of her resources burned away. Waiting any longer would border on dangerous so she bit, punching through the meat of Deshi’s thigh and locking her jaws on his flesh. Blood hit Haley’s tongue and her need rose. With long pulls Haley took what her body craved. Every so often she had to rework her bite, reopening the wound, and a fresh surge would rush down her throat. Haley swallowed, savoring the taste on her tongue.

  Deshi’s body made a little jump and she rolled her eyes upward. Orin’s head was over his shoulder, his mouth locked on the edge, his body heaving as he pulled blood from the wound. Haley watched and after a minute the tension in Orin’s face faded. Even his hand moved up and down Deshi’s upper arm, petting him.

  A deep purr kicked up in the Prince’s chest. His mouth opened and he began to pant. His teeth were too long now, too sharp, and he kept flicking his tongue over the points. The sight of him tasting himself brought a growl to Haley’s throat. Wet heat bloomed between her legs and her insides ached.

  If they had been alone she would have touched. And God of Man, she wanted to touch him now, bring him. But Haley wasn’t sure how much Orin would be able to stand. She hated not doing what her instincts demanded. This was the only time she got to truly be what she was meant to be.

  Kin.

  Deshi’s hands made two fists and the trembling in his legs became earthquakes.

  A low deep growl sounded from Orin as he shook his head like a dog, worrying his bite deeper. The Jersey City Prince cried out and the sound had nothing to do with pain. It took everything Haley had not to respond to his unattended need.

  Blood ran in rivulets down his chest and pooled at the hem of his boxers. His erection jutted out the slit in the front.

  The burn of the feed ignited and Haley popped her mouth free. Sweat bloomed over her skin. Sloppy wet sounds made by Orin tearing flesh drew a strained cry from her throat. Her insides were in knots. She wanted more of Deshi, his flesh in her mouth and other parts between her legs.

  She looked up just as Orin tore one last hunk of meat before practically throwing himself off the bed. His jaws worked to take down the flesh, and from the way he was curled around himself he had to be hiding his own arousal.

  Seeing him ashamed made her angry. And yeah, he’d explained why, but it didn’t matter. Haley looked up at Deshi. His eyes were half-lidded, his face strained. He was afraid to move. Afraid he’d offend Orin.

  Afraid he’d been forgotten again.

  And Deshi had been forgotten too much lately. No more. Haley pulled herself up and stripped off her shirt. “Orin, you need to leave.” He jerked his gaze away. “I’m not stopping. You can join us or leave. But Deshi needs me now and I’m not denying him just to make you feel better about yourself.” Orin struggled to stand. Fine, he’d get out or he wouldn’t.

  “Deshi…” Haley put a hand on his burning cheek and he smiled. It wasn’t going to take much to send him over. Haley leaned in and pressed her lips to his, but he didn’t respond.

  “Touch me,” she whispered against his mouth. Deshi’s eyes rolled to Orin. He was almost to the door. “Ignore him. It’s just you and me.” Haely pushed her body against him. That seemed to do it. The Prince’s hands came up and around her back, crushing her body against his. A deep growl rolled out of Deshi’s chest and his fingers dug into Haley’s sides. His mouth slammed into hers and she welcomed the brutal tasting. His tongue in her mouth, scraping against her palate. There was so much need in him and Haley drank it down.

  A hand cupped the back of Haley’s head, while the other dug into her ass. In one yank Deshi flipped her down and under him. His body curled up and over her and his teeth sank into her shoulder. Haley cried out, pulled her legs up and apart, welcoming him, but he still had his damn boxers on. She hooked her toes in the waistband and slid them over his hips. The Jersey City Prince pushed her farther up on the bed, leaving the last of his clothing siding down around his ankles.

  Haley arched under him, wanting more, but now that he had his mouth on her flesh he’d regained some calm. Deshi’s hands slid down her sides, kneading the flesh until he reached her thighs. He pushed her legs down and apart, then opened his mouth. Long sharp fangs coated in ichor raked across her cheek, t
hen her neck. He moved down, flicked his tongue along her sternum, lower to her navel. Deshi lingered, probing and biting the edges. As she bucked he held her flat. Haley lifted her head enough so she could watch him as he moved lower. The thrum in his chest rattled the walls, a deep continuous whirr. His lips caressed the flesh of her groin, his teeth nicked the skin. Lower still, just above her cleft, he kissed flesh and nuzzled the soft dark hairs.

  Deshi didn’t look at her. Not like Farley. No, this time was private for him, but it didn’t stop Haley from watching.

  His mouth pressed against her and his tongue parted the flesh. The sensation made Haley arch her back, but Deshi held her firm.

  The muscles in his back danced and rolled with anticipation as lowered himself again to taste her. Slow. Too slow. Haley cried out, desperate, needing, but the Prince refused to be rushed. Like everything else Deshi did, it was with methodical perfection.

  Haley felt him draw the softest parts between his lips and stroke her with his tongue. In long gentle pulls he worked her, tasted her, his purr rising and falling. Sweat bloomed over Haley’s body. Years, hours, minutes passed and then one more stroke, pull and taste, and he made her shatter. Haley came for him, begging, pleading and when it was over he looked up at her smiling.

  “Beautiful Deshi…” Haley reached out and he brought his mouth to hers. “I want all of you.” She licked his jaw, then the side of his head. “Deshi, I need all of you.” When she looked at him, his blue eyes were gone. So gold, the depths of them swam with the craving for what only his own could give him. A hand slid to her hip, the other to her lower neck.

  Deshi moved his body between her legs, stroking himself against her core. Haley’s breath hitched, her hearts thundered. “Deshi, please.” He kissed her, swallowing her words. With a firm press of her thigh to his hip, he let her know where he wanted her to keep her leg. Then, with the hand that had been bracing her, he guided himself inside. Haley’s body tightened and he stopped. “More.” She pulled him with her legs, but he wouldn’t move. “Deshi…”

  His lips brushed her jaw, her cheek, and when she relaxed he filled her in one fluid motion. Deshi thrust, cradling Haley against him. His face pressed against her neck and he made small sounds in his throat in time with each roll of his hips. It wasn’t long before those gentle sounds transformed into a deep possessive growl.

  And what began as a timid dance became a frenzied clashing of bodies.

  “Roll me,” Deshi said, his voice piteous. “Haley…” Now it was his turn to beg. “God of Man, Haley…” She slid her hands to the point between his shoulders. He tried to shrug her back, but she pressed, and with a primal snarl the Prince lost himself, his body surging.

  Haley spun her preternatural self outward, capturing that peak of pleasure and holding Deshi there. The sound roaring out of the Prince’s throat sounded anything but Human. His chelae punched out, shredding the bedding and eviscerating the insides of the mattress. Tears squeezed from the corners of his eyes, and cords stood out on his neck. Haley took him as far as his body would go, then spun him out. He came again, and this time the heat of his release pushed Haley over the edge.

  Chapter 35

  Farley opened his eyes when he heard voices, and saw darkness. It had to be morning or maybe afternoon. Either way, the CFKR was back to business as usual.

  As if to confirm his revelation, someone yelled out in the hall. He grimaced, preparing for it to hurt like hell, but it didn’t.

  That was a definite improvement.

  Just to make sure he wasn’t getting ahead of himself, Farley tested each limb and found everything working. Now he just had a slight personal problem to deal with. The raging erection between his legs. And it was far more than one of those morning I-need-to-pee things. This fucker was serious.

  Shit.

  He pulled the towel off his face and put it at the base of his cock, because doing this was going to make one hell of a mess. He palmed himself and damn, if it wasn’t like hitting a live wire. But ignoring it wasn’t an option. There was no way this thing was going away on its own.

  Farley pulled up a leg and pushed the other to the side. He winced going down, and again when he slid his hand back up. Fluid leaked from the tip, thank God. Otherwise he was sure the pressure would have popped the end off.

  He tightened his grip and swiveled his hips, moving slow until he could stand the feel of his own skin. The wetness made his fingers and palm slick, which he desperately needed.

  At least this wasn’t going to take long. Pretty soon he was thrusting into the tunnel of his fist, groaning, skin on fire.

  He opened his mouth and sounded off with short quick barks of pleasure. His spine clenched, his nuts clenched, and he fisted the towel with his free hand. God of Man, let something happen quick or his hearts were going to blow out.

  “Ah Fuck…” Just when he thought it would never end, the orgasm slammed him in the back of the head. Farley rolled, his hips jacking forward as he tried to hold the towel in place.

  And failed. Big.

  With the way his body jerked, it was a wonder he didn’t knock himself out against the wall.

  Or poke out an eye.

  Missing the towel, he wound up losing most of it all over his legs…and the coats…and the floor…it felt like buckets. Ten years later it stopped. With that taken care of, his body reached an odd calm. Farley didn’t even feel hungry, a testament to the power in that half-breed’s blood.

  The wet sticky mess cooled on his thighs. Boy, this was going to be hard to explain. “Christ on a cross…” Farley dropped his head back, trying to catch his breath. Never again was he going to touch a halvsie. No matter what. No way. No how.

  Farley got up, and used the towel to wipe himself down as much as possible. It was useless. Between his own body fluids and the blood from last night, his skin was practically crackling. He needed a shower in the worst way.

  Clothes were another issue, because the ones he’d been wearing last night were ash in the gutter.

  Damn. And he had liked those pants.

  A knock on the door made him jump.

  “Can I turn on the lights?” Claire said.

  “Yeah.” Farley did his best to prepare his retinas for the assault. No pain there either. Things were definitely looking up.

  “Can I come in?” Claire cracked the door a little, then pulled it shut. “Sorry, didn’t know you weren’t decent.”

  “Not like I have anything you haven’t already seen.” What the hell was with Humans? Even after they knew your body intimately, they’d go all twitchy when skin was exposed.

  “I just…well…”

  You’re Human. “What do you want?” Farley kicked at the coats and itchy blankets. There was going to be no explaining the mess he’d left. He decided the hell with it and shoved it all in the corner, then christened it with the soaking towel. Housekeeping could deal with it. They were probably used to walking in on this kind of aftermath. After all, this was the Tank.

  From behind the door, Claire said, “I brought you something to eat and some clothes.”

  “I need a shower first.” Boy, did he ever. He smelled like blood, sex, road grime and track rabbits. Speaking of which, Farley blew his breath into his palm. Oh, yeah, there was no kissing anyone with that mouth until he flossed with piano wire and rinsed with bleach.

  Not to mention, now that the lights were on, he could see how filthy he really was. His body looked like someone had used him for a toilet brush. That actually made him feel better about the blankets and coats. No sane person would have used the things without washing them first. Not after he put his nasty ass skin all over them. A smart person would just burn ’em.

  Farley yanked open the door and Claire jumped. Just below the observation window there was a paper sign which read, do not disturb, do not open, do not turn on lights. The last part was underlined three times.

  He looked at Claire and a bright red flush blossomed on her cheeks, clashing with her bl
ue sweater.

  “Here…” Claire tried to hand him a towel.

  “Towel is clean.” And he sure wasn’t.

  Claire said something else but Farley ignored her and headed down the hall.

  “Wait!”

  As Farley walked he rolled his shoulders, stretched his arms, cracked his knuckles, and fired off his neck with a twist. Ahh…that felt better.

  The Tank was pretty much empty, but the corridor leading over to the Center wasn’t. Several people stopped and stared. A couple cops even did a quick point and laugh. Farley threw a glance back at Claire. She was bright red and had her hand part way over her face.

  Like it was her naked and not him.

  Farley scratched his face, chest, butt, getting dried blood under his fingernails. Damn, he could play tic-tac-toe on his skin. Jesus, how did Terry stand having him in her car?

  Two lady cops shot him a whistle as he took a right toward the locker rooms. Another stopped and stared at the doorway as she exited the ladies dressing area. Farley smiled, waved, and kept walking.

  When he entered the Men’s side, Ken from IT came out of one of the stalls and cracked a grin. “Forget something this morning?”

  “Been one of those nights, my man.” Farley took a right into the showers, stopped at the first one he came to, threw the water on boil, stepped in, and let it slap him in the face. It took a few seconds, but eventually the jet spray was hissing from the heat. Steam billowed white into the air.

  Was it a figment of Farley’s imagination, or did he spend half his life under a jet spray and soap? Thank you, God of Man, for indoor plumbing! But then nothing about his job was ever neat and clean.

  Farley leaned against the wall and peed in the drain. His bladder thanked him for the relief.

  From around the corner Claire’s soft apology echoed against the tiles. It was followed by the sounds of her soft steps on the wet tile. Farley really missed Haley’s heels. Dangerous points ticking off her steps. Damn, he still needed to call her.