Ancient Blood- Masters and Servants

by Dora Esquivel

  Master and Servants

  Part Two

  While every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher assumes no responsibility for errors or omissions, or for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.

  ANCIENT BLOOD

  First edition. July 23, 2019.

  Copyright © 2019 Dora Esquivel.

  Written by Dora Esquivel.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

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  Chapter One

  Gabriel

  “FUUUCK!” That’s all Gabriel could say as he struggled to come yet again. She squeezed and rode him for all its worth, and yet, nothing. He rattled at the handcuffs he had given her to shackle him to the bed, but nothing helped him to climax. He had men and women with no results. He could get hard— oh-so-painfully hard— every single time, but he couldn’t come. He was so desperate for relief.

  Right now, his dick was stiff and tender. She had come multiple times, yelling and screaming as she bounced on him like a bucking bronco, her big boobs jiggling up and down. She snapped her head back, and her body convulsed as another powerful orgasm rocked her. Long, black hair lay matted across her neck and face. Disgusted by the scene, Gabriel turned his face away from her, and looked at the peeling paint of the wall, hoping he would finally get off.

  “Oh fuck, baby, you feel so good. Big and uncut. Nothing like my husband and his three inches. I want to ride you all night,” she exclaimed, as she ran her acrylic nails down his chiseled jaw.

  “You are one beautiful man. I have never fucked anyone that looks like you,” she said, as she contracted him tighter between her legs.

  The extra pressure made him cross-eyed, and yet nothing. Disgusted, Gabriel rattled his cuffs in desperation, his pleasure was right there, but he was denied. “Shut the fuck up, and get off me, you bitch,” Gabriel growled.

  The woman stopped, eyed him sweetly, and smirked. “I’m fucking you until I’m raw. Until then, I’m not letting you go, ‘cause I won’t get a man as beautiful as you again. You are the whole package— built with a beautiful face, and those fuck-me lips. Honey, let’s not forget that big piece of hardness between your legs. I’m getting my fill until I’m done.”

  Gabriel shook the cuffs in anger, hoping to break them from the railings. The bitch was gyrating her hips, bumping and grinding, enjoying herself, orgasming again, while his dick stayed hard like iron. It was agonizing; too painful for him to bear. He needed her off him.

  He bucked hard, trying to throw her off, but she only tightened her grip, fucking herself harder onto him. This seemed to happen every time he met someone. It was like a hunger he couldn’t satiate; he needed to feel the want and need they had for him. Men and women flocked to him, and he allowed them to do anything to him. Most just wanted to fuck him, and he allowed it.

  The men he shagged were rough and demanding. He needed the pain and violence like a deep thirst he could never quench. The men used him roughly; they enjoyed when he sucked their cocks, and they all wanted to fuck him. Every time he had sex, a painful denial happened— he couldn’t find release.

  All his engagements fucked him until they tired or passed out. Leaving Gabriel strapped down on the bed or on the floor for later use. He would become so needy, he didn’t care how they used him at first; but now, after a year, the whole process was becoming uneventful and tedious. The end result was always the same— a hard dick.

  One of the cops he’d messed around with had cuffed and screwed him over the police car. He remembered getting pulled over for speeding. The man was in his thirties, shorter than him, a rookie. Gabriel recalled how the man’s dark eyes glazed over, and he could smell the cop’s arousal; that smell triggered a response in him— like a rush. He needed more of that smell, that feeling.

  All it took was a smile and a laugh before they started kissing and touching. The rookie became desperate, ripping Gabriel’s clothes off, spreading him face down on the hood of the police car, lights flashing, cuffing his hands harshly behind his back, and then he penetrated him for hours until the young cop collapsed on top of him and fell unconscious onto the small country road. Gabriel was naked and cuffed, with cum all over his back, dripping between his legs, with his cock angry and beet red. This seemed to be a running theme in his life.

  After forty-five minutes, another patrol car finally arrived to find out what happened to their newbie. Gabriel’s arms were tired, and he was thirsty. Being cuffed took its toll, and he was ready to be let go. To his embarrassment, Bach, a longtime family friend rolled down his window and looked at him in shock. Quickly, Bach got out of his patrol car and grabbed him roughly by his cuffed arms, walking him towards the unconscious and seminude body of the other policeman.

  Bach looked down at the rookie and uttered, “What the fuck, Gabe? What did you do to Spencer?”

  Gabriel didn’t want to look at Bach, especially when he caught a whiff of Bach’s own lust growing, feeding his own darker wants. Go away, he wanted to scream at the man.

  Bach rubbed his hands through his short, blond hair. “What the hell am I going to tell your mom and Galen?”

  “Tell them whatever you want. I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Gabriel said quietly, lost in swirls of lust and denial. He could hear Bach’s blood rushing throughout his body, breath hitched, and his unique scent bombarded Gabriel. He wanted Bach, needed him— now.

  “Look at me. Gabriel. Look at me,” Bach ordered.

  Unable to disobey, Gabriel lifted his head and noticed Bach’s bright blue eyes blazing with heat. This wasn’t right; he shouldn’t touch Bach or want him in any way. Bach and his brother, Galen, had a long, volatile, and complicated relationship of sorts, with Galen never giving Bach commitment.

  Bach grabbed his face and kissed him with unbridled passion. A blast of ecstasy passed through Gabriel, setting off a bomb of ultimate pleasure throughout his body. Bach’s big hands grabbed his naked ass, spreading him wide.

  “ I need you to be Galen for now, I want you. Tell me yes, Galen,” Bach murmured.

  Gabriel knew this would happen. He knew Bach wouldn’t pass the opportunity to insert his twin’s name in the affair. Bach had it bad for his brother.

  Urging Bach on, he rubbed himself against the man’s big body and whispered, “Take me, Bach.”

  That night, Bach fucked him for several hours. Once the effect of whatever happened between them diminished, Bach uncuffed him and wouldn’t even look at him. Shame and disgust marred Bach’s perfect features. The rookie cop had finally woken up, lost and confused as he adjusted his pants.

  “Get your shit together and report to the station,” Bach ordered Spencer. The young cop gathered up his stuff, then ran to his patrol car and sped away.

  Gabriel rubbed his wrists and looked at Bach. “Bach, this isn’t your fault, you know that, right?”

  Bach’s vivid blue eyes bore into him. “So, who should I blame? The town whore? There have been whispers about you; how you drive people out of their minds with lust, they can’t control themselves around you. I didn’t w
ant to believe them, but Galen‘s been calling me up at all hours worried sick about you, saying that you make many men— men who would have never slept with another man— want to kill you. They think you’re drugging them.”

  Gabriel shook his head. He knew the rumors. He knew which males he had screwed. Some were straight and seething with rage, blaming him for their indiscretion. Not his fault, he knew that. But making these men understand was a different matter. Judging by Bach’s glaring shame, he couldn’t help but feel dirty, unclean.

  Gabriel didn’t understand this need, this craving. It was maddening and all-consuming. He stopped his MMA training and only pursued satisfaction, he had quit eating and sleeping. He was living off his mom and brother. If he didn’t get some sort of pleasure, he felt sick. So many strange changes were occurring, and he didn’t understand why they were happening to him. There was always a constant hunger.

  Bach bent down, grabbed Gabriel’s clothes and threw them at him. “I don’t know how I feel about all of this, Gabe. You know Galen and I have had our ups and downs since we were kids. Shit, I even followed him into the Marines, to Afghanistan and then back here. He will never be able to fully trust me because of who and what my father is. Now, I fucked his brother, his twin brother. How will he ever trust me?”

  Grabbing his clothes, Gabriel quickly slid on his jeans and boots. Part of him felt sorry for Bach and the eternal flame he carried for Galen, but he wasn’t going to take the fall for this mess.

  He replied bitterly, “Don’t tell him. Don’t tell him you fucked his brother while screaming out his name, and that you enjoyed dominating me as if I were Galen. Don’t tell him any of it. You’re good at keeping secrets, aren’t you? Isn’t that why Galen doesn’t trust you? Because when he needed you the most, you weren’t there for him.”

  Gabriel didn’t see the punch Bach landed in his stomach. He should have expected it, but deep down, he knew he deserved it and so much more. Kneeling, he tried to breathe but couldn’t. Bach grabbed his long hair and viciously jerked his head up.

  “I was only a child, scared of my father. You have no clue how much I feared that man. I have been trying to make it up to Galen all this time. I’m willing to die for him. What does it say about his own twin fucking his lover?” Bach seethed.

  “Nothing. Galen will never love you; he uses you because you allow it. He enjoys making you cry out in pain and blood.”

  Bach’s pupils expanded as he punched Gabriel’s face. A sick part of him enjoyed the pain and violence. Hit after hit, Gabriel started to feed off Bach’s anger, desperation, and hurt.

  “Why won’t he forgive me?” Bach cried out as he continued to punch Gabriel.

  Soon, Bach slid down and kneeled in front of Gabriel, ashamed of letting his anger get the better of him. “I’m sorry, so sorry, Gabriel. I’m sorry, Galen.”

  Gabriel looked at Bach. His brother was never going to fully trust this man, or love him like he wanted. Bach saved them both in Afghanistan many times over, but even getting shot at, Galen just couldn’t let go of his mistrust toward Bach and his father.

  Sensing the need and want in Bach again, Gabriel’s appetite returned. Unable to control himself, he leaned forward and kissed Bach. That night, Gabriel used Bach roughly for hours and continued their affair till this day.

  “Hey, honey, where did you go?” the woman asked, as she rode him like a horse.

  This past year had been crazy. The pleasure he fed off calmed him and made him feel stronger. Even with him skipping the gym and training, he hadn’t lost any of his build. Somehow, it even looked like he had gotten bigger.

  Gabe felt sick. He was right there, in his never-ending cycle of seeking release. Now, the same would happen here. She would fuck herself on him until she collapsed. He would feed off her pleasure, and she would come. A long fucking night awaited him, with no real reward for him.

  Chapter Two

  Lucien

  ANOTHER BORING EVENING, Lucien thought as he looked over Sargon’s left shoulder.

  The vampire was again using the old scrolls to write down offenses and passed judgments on other vampires and werewolves. He didn’t understand why they still used quill and ink to document all these infractions.

  Sargon told him these proceedings were all recorded and uploaded by another group of vampires to Sargon’s databases. Those databases contained over four thousand years of history. Lucien would love to read some of those files.

  Sargon had a group of techie vampires who maintained, secured and uploaded any new software or data to Sumuel’s servers. They had their own secure network and email. The less contact with humans the better. With all these modern marvels, Sumuel still preferred to read from ancient papyrus scrolls.

  All vampires’ and werewolves’ grievances, offenses, or violations were brought up at the end of the month at Sumuel’s massive country estate. Anyone who felt dishonored or cheated needed to come there to be heard. Punishments were quickly given out and settled with either money or blood. Bigger grievances required more extreme carnal punishments that Sumuel instructed Sargon on through the mind-link they shared.

  Lucien was glad he didn’t share that link with the ancient Sumuel. The ancient one was a sadistic, bored little man, but a very powerful vampire. He was the first of their kind, master of all supernaturals. No one knew how vamps had come into existence, and no matter how close he was with Sargon, he could never pry enough information out of Sumuel’s and Sargon’s odd relationship.

  He knew his master was never pleased when Sumuel called on him. Even with his icy demeanor, Lucien could read Sargon like a book— the way his eyes dimmed when Sargon made him kneel, or the little micro-muscle twitches that passed over his face when the other vamp caressed his face or body.

  Sumuel seemed to be immune to Lucien’s Incubi powers of lust and persuasion. Sumuel didn’t acknowledge Lucien, and he was fine with that. He only tolerated Lucien, and Sumuel made sure Lucien was aware of it. Sumuel was jealous and possessive when it came to Sargon. Lucien figured the old vamp didn’t like sharing his favorite toy with Lucien.

  Too bad.

  The open archways of the massive receiving room reminded Lucien of some of the old castles back in Ireland with their bluish limestone, where his parents once received their subjects. Back then, castles were dark, cold, and smelled like old mold mixed with human smells.

  Sargon’s massive house had all the modern conveniences and luxuries. Sargon did enjoy things like wi-fi, espresso machines, and 77-inch 4k HDR TV’s sprawled all over the mansion, and cell phones. Lucien couldn’t understand why Sumuel made Sargon write everything down.

  Lucien wanted this meeting to move along. He had a mate to claim. Tonight, he would sink inside Gabriel and complete the hybrid process. A year without coming had been painful for Gabriel from Roman’s— his second in command— accounts. His mate had been having sex all over the place, trying to come.

  Part of Lucien was rageful at the thought of anyone touching what was his, but his demon found it humorous. The wolf part of him was loyal and wanted Gabriel as a mate which meant no sharing, but his Incubi part was not so enthralled with Gabriel.

  His incubus acknowledged Gabriel as the wolf’s mate. And while part of his demon wanted Gabriel sexually, his incubus preferred someone else, someone Lucien himself had never considered— his second in command, Roman, a tiger shifter.

  The wild nights he had with Roman were memorable, but Gabe was his fated mate. Lucien sometimes hated his warring sides. He would need to find a way to coexist with these two creatures inside him. They were both a part of him, and somehow, he needed to make them work together. He’d have to embrace their differences and similarities.

  His Incubi powers had increased, and so had his wolf powers. He was faster and stronger than any other shifter. He was getting recognized more and more by the other clans. The clans had been under vampire rule for more than one thousand years. The last time they were free had been under Lucien’s fath
er’s rule many centuries ago. There were not many members of his father’s clan alive, but the few left were coming to him about pack issues.

  He remembered how many of them had treated him with contempt and pain during the last five hundred years. But now, as his powers had grown, some apologized and were speaking to him about his father and mother. Part of him wanted to kill the assholes for being weak, for not standing up to the demon and vampires that killed his family, but he was the last Lutair, the orphaned heir to a nonexistent werewolf kingdom.

  A younger were and a vamp bowed to Sargon and left. Lucien had not been paying attention and missed whatever the two supernatural beings— supes— had grievances about. It must not have been a big deal because no blood or corporal punishment had been dealt.

  He was bored with all of Sargon’s teachings this past year. He didn’t want to be Sumuel’s right-hand man like Sargon was, he wasn’t interested in vampire law, and he certainly didn’t want to live in this massive mansion if he got promoted to Magistrate.

  Most of the vampiric laws were based on old Sumerian codes. The laws were not the same for those who were richer and older, compared to younger and less powerful supes. The codes were based on retribution, not justice. A younger supe could bring a grievance against an older supe, but they better have a good reason and plenty of proof.

  If Sumuel found the complaint frivolous, the poor bastard would be subjected to whatever the older vamp thought fit as punishment. Lucien had only seen about twenty death sentences, but that was the older preternatural right. Most of the time, the younger vamp or were would be subjected to a lifetime of servitude to the aggrieved vamp. Meaning, the younger vamp or werewolf would lose all their properties, rights, and freedom. Everything would then belong to the vampire who brought up the charges.

  A two-system law existed; one that profited most vamps; one law clearly designed against all other shifters, and the other for the vampires. Lucien always found this unfair, but now, he was over a thousand years old, so he definitely fell into the laxer rules of Sumuel’s laws. He’d earned his place of power and prestige.