All of which meant I felt that much closer to him.
Sometimes, we'd fucked half-dressed. A few times, despite the knowledge we might need to dress quickly, appear respectable, and get to the nearest bomb shelter, I'd insisted on complete nakedness.
"You never, ever sweat," I'd whisper in wonder. "No matter what I do to you, you don't perspire."
"We don't," he'd say with laughter. "I've told you before."
"Yes, but..."
Yes, but it was always different to experience things for myself. Adam could tell me what it was going to feel like, and his words never even came close to the way it was in reality.
I trail a finger down the ridges of Adam's spine, waiting for the familiar wriggle when I reach the dip in the small of his back. I asked him once if it was ticklish; he said yes, no, kind of.
"Pleasure so intense, it feels tickly," was how he'd put it. "It almost hurts."
"Get on the bed." The words don't sound like they're coming from my mouth, but Adam undoes his belt in readiness. My cock's so hard, I could explode; he doesn't expect foreplay or preliminary waffle, so he won't get any.
"On my knees?"
"What else?" I'm almost scared to touch myself; I've never undone my belt or fly so carefully. If I come too soon, this night would be even more of a disaster than it is already.
Adam gives a quiet huff of laughter as he climbs onto the bed and I haul his trousers and shorts down, taking over while he settles his weight on his forearms. "Bloody hell; you're keen."
"Shut up." I'm glad he can't see the look on my face; he'd have something to say about the discomfort that no doubt shows there. I'm not normally this rude with my lovers, even the ones I don't actually like that much. "Just shut up." And I climb onto the bed behind him. I've never lubed myself so carefully before; a couple of strokes, and that's enough. I'm less gentle with Adam, though. I don't feel too bad; that's how he wants it.
"God, that's cold." But he pushes back when I work a lubed fingertip inside him. "More."
I could slap him with my free hand, the one that's just resting on his hip, but he'd enjoy it too much. Pulling away from him, I reach for the lube bottle again, give my hand a good soaking.
"Fuck---" Pain or arousal, possibly both, choke any more words in his throat when I force a couple of fingers inside him, just brushing against that spot that makes him cry if I do it right. He whimpers and pushes back.
"Am I hurting you?"
"No. Yes."
"Which is it?"
"Both. Don't stop."
"You don't want my cock inside you, then?"
"Yes. Please."
God, I love it when he begs. It was never like this before, so abandoned, when we had to be careful. Now, no one gives a fuck, not here in this building. I've screwed plenty of other men, and they've begged---made me beg, too---but to hear Adam, now, say please...there's no feeling of power quite so strong.
The tip of my cock slides in easily, but I stop there, listening for the pleading, inarticulate whimper. I push forward again, just a little, meet with some resistance. Okay, maybe he's not as ready as I thought. Should have prepped him more, used more lube.
"Just do it." Adam pushes back violently, making me grunt in shock.
"Oh. Oh God..." My head spins. Fucking hell. I'm inside Adam Locke for the first time in how long, and I've never felt such an unrelenting tightness around my cock. Like I was made to fuck him. Don't move. Don't move, Nathan. If you do, you'll come. Whatever you do, don't come. Not yet. Silently, I count to ten. Or some random number. I don't know what I'm doing anymore.
Movement from Adam brings me back into the present. He can't push back any farther, but he does something with his hips that makes my balls tighten. Oh, he knows exactly what he's doing all right, the taunting bastard. Balancing on one forearm, he reaches down between his legs, but I grab his shoulder, tightening my grip when he persists.
"Let go." He doesn't, so I pull at his arm until he has to, and somehow, despite a struggle--- playful, just to pretend he's putting up a fight---I cover both his hands with my own, pinning him to the bed. "You keep your hands off."
"A guy's gotta come sometime." He laughs, and I watch the curve of his mouth, the line of his jaw, barely resisting the urge to bite his damn neck.
"Not until I tell you to."
"You were never this masterful before."
"Because I was fucking scared of you back then." I pull back and slam into him again, nearly coming myself when I hear the grunt forced out from the back of his throat. "Not now."
"You're hurting me."
"You wanted me to."
"I know. I love it."
I wish I'd known; I wish we'd done this before, but I was too scared, too wary of being caught. Never able to let go. Never able to let him know what I truly wanted. "I'm not doing this to please you."
"Then---" another whimper as I push deeper inside "---why are you doing it?"
"Because I need to get laid, and you're here and willing. Aren't you?" I whisper into his neck.
He tries to wriggle away, control our movements somewhat, but it's my turn to balance on one hand now, using the other to grab his hair and pull his head back.
"Aren't you?"
Adam nods, movements restricted under the grip of my hand and the occasional sharp don't fuck with me thrust of my hips.
"Good." I let go of his hair, and he lets his head drop forward, small groans of desperation escaping his lips whenever I move inside him.
I just let my lips hover on the skin of his neck, not kissing, certainly not biting. Not yet. Not until I reach that feeling of inevitability all too soon.
Adam cries out, and for a moment, I wonder if he's come before me, or if I'm hurting him, but it's my fault---I got carried away and let my fangs penetrate his flesh. He doesn't resist; in fact, he tilts his head to make it easier for me.
Only a few drops of blood at first, but when I'm seconds away from coming, I suck harder and coat my tongue with the metallic taste of vampire's blood. It's something I haven't experienced while fucking in all too long. A muffled grunt strangles in my throat, and shaking, I come inside Adam while his blood fills my mouth. I can't swallow fast enough, and already, I'm thinking about how I'm going to fuck him next time round.
"I prefer you with your skin marked."
Adam's lying face down on the bed, sheets rumpled around him, completely naked, as I am.
After that first time, we finally managed to get rid of our clothes. There's no sweat coating either of us, of course, but there are bruises on either side of Adam's neck, a couple of spots of blood. Marks that will fade quickly and easily. I had snapped a couple of his fingers pulling his hand away from me earlier. He was flat on his back as I fucked him face to face, and he kept reaching up to touch me, but I had wanted him pinned to the bed. There was a struggle, something snapped, and Adam had screamed.
I had stopped, but he'd told me to carry on.
"Fucking hurts, but why stop?"
His fingers had mended within the hour. No lasting damage. It certainly hadn't stopped him from coming all over his abs while I fucked him, semen coating his pale skin with me not even pausing to let him recover.
"Huh?" He lifts his head off the pillow, looking at me with sleepy eyes. Who'd believe it, a vampire, actually tired? I wonder if I've fucked him so hard, he'll actually need to sleep.
"Your skin. It was perfect earlier, but I prefer it marked." I'd bruised his hips too, but those marks had faded within seconds. That's the trouble, and the great thing, about fucking a vampire. They can take whatever you dish out.
Broken fingers, bruised hips, bitten necks.
"You'll just have to do some serious damage when you're ready for round...five? Whatever. I've lost count." But he smiles.
"If you're sure you can take it."
"Please. When have you ever known me to concede a fight?"
"I thought we were fucking, not fighting."
"Same thing, isn
't it?" Adam props himself up on one arm, shameless in his nakedness. Well, why wouldn't he be? We've seen each other from all angles today. "Just as well you've got plenty of energy. It'll be daylight soon---we'll have to think of something to occupy ourselves until nightfall."
"I'm sure I can think of something," I reply, my voice thick with languor, yet also arousal. I'm sitting up, kind of, leaning back against a pile of pillows, legs stretched out in front of me. There are one or two spots of blood on the sheets; not that I'm worried. The hotel staff will be used to it.
But like I said, only one or two spots. I didn't want to waste it, after all.
But I'll have to be careful for another reason.
If I take too much from Adam, he'll weaken, and though he could call room service and have a couple of pints sent up, I'm anticipating him asking to drink from me. Fair's fair, I imagine him saying. But last time his fangs were anywhere near my neck wasn't too pleasant an occasion. I'm not scared of him anymore---I think. What's he going to do? Kill me twice over? But there are some experiences I have no wish to remind myself of if I can help it. Just yet.
"Nathan?" Adam's voice has that inflection, the rise at the end which makes my heart sink. He wants something. "I have a favour to ask."
"Yes?" Not an agreement, merely an urge for him to continue, to get it over with. "What do you want now?"
"Nothing terrible; don't sound so scared! Jesus."
"Whenever you put that voice on, it's always something untoward." I roll my shoulders, working out a kink. We're almost unbreakable, but hours of relentless fucking will throw up a few muscular niggles now and again.
"Not this time." He sits up straight, meaning business. And he doesn't take his eyes off me.
"When we're done here..."
I look sideways at him. "When we're done here what?"
Adam pauses for a second before telling me what it is that's on his mind. "I want to come and see where you live."
Chapter 13
"THIS IS QUITE POSSIBLY the closest thing to insane I have ever done." I stop outside my front door, my head spinning. I should have known this was a bad idea. Well, I did, right from the start. But I'd let Will persuade me. I'd let curiosity take me to Vlad's. Or maybe Adam was right, and it was guilt. I'd lied to him for years, and as the image of myself as a truthful, honourable man crumbled, I gave in.
"Besides have hours of violent, hot sex in a hotel room with the guy who nearly killed you years back, thereby releasing decades of pent-up anger and sexual tension, you mean?"
One hand holding the key in the lock, I let my head bow for a moment. "Stop it, Adam."
Behind me, he laughs. "Stop what?" He grabs my backside and tries to give it a squeeze. "This bloody overcoat; why do you have to still dress like a soldier?"
"Because I am one."
"You were classified as missing, presumed ---"
I straighten up and look over my shoulder at him.
"Never mind," he continues, giving a casual shrug. "You won't listen anyway."
Maybe that's all it takes. To resurrect oneself from the dead, appear in Adam's life again, bugger him senseless, then shoot him a dirty look. That's all that was needed to get him to fall in line, to shut up when he goes too far.
"Okay, okay." He shows his palms in mock --- has to be mock---surrender, and I get on with unlocking the door.
"How long have you been living here?"
Adam asks, looking around himself, even up at the ceiling, as if this is a cathedral, not a vampire-friendly basement flat in a town far away from where he's been living lately.
"A few years."
"Fuck." It's almost a whisper. "I still can't believe..." His gaze darts everywhere---at the wallpaper, the carpet, the light fittings. "All this time..."
"Only a few years, Adam." I settle my travel case by the wall, underneath my coat rack. I can deal with the unpacking later. Laundry and returning my toiletries to the bathroom can wait. I use toiletries? Oh yes. Being dead doesn't stop one wanting to be clean and to smell nice.
"No, I meant..." At last, his gaze meets mine.
"All this time, you were alive, and I never knew."
He strokes a hand down a patch of wallpaper. It's not flocked or even woodchipped. Nothing to it; just flat, two-dimensional paper pasted to a wall.
"Living in a house like this."
I'd planned to give him a guided tour of sorts, or rather, felt that that would be the polite thing to do, but Adam wanders off on his own, and I follow along as if he's the tenant and I the visitor.
"Your bathroom's immaculate," he comments.
It's now I realise I have no idea where he lives, what his everyday (everynight?) life is like. But now isn't the time to ask. And if I do ask, it'll open up a dialogue; this will start to look like a regular thing which I want to carry on.
Which I don't.
He's only here out of politeness on my part.
To show a little faith in him, which is still far more than he deserves. Okay, you tried to kill me.
I can't say all is forgiven, but let's try to get over it. This is where I live now. Good day to you; have a nice eternity.
"Mine's not got a window either. I live in a deadblock."
Deadblocks are tenements specially built for vampires, as opposed to one like mine, which is adapted, but not purpose-built. Against my better judgement, I'm impressed.
"You're putting down roots where you are?"
He's less likely to move if he resides in such an apartment block, whereas I could up sticks and find somewhere else without too much trouble.
There's Alyssa to think of, of course, but we could keep in touch by phone and email. I trust her; she's the only person I'd want to maintain contact with if things with Adam get difficult and I need to skip town.
"It's handy, not having a window in the bathroom. Means I didn't have to get blackout blinds. I've seen some have theirs blocked up, but bricked-up windows in certain areas? Nah."
Adam shudders at some unnamed image or memory in his mind's eye. "Yeah. Advertises to outsiders that a vampire lives there."
"And society has a new group to hate," I mutter, then shake myself out of my maudlin state.
Sinking into the past yet again? That just wouldn't do at all.
"It's bad enough being gay and not knowing where a random homophobe will pop up. Being a vampire, as well? I'm sure I saw a headline in the Daily Mail the other day, blaming the undead for rising house prices."
Against my will, I snort with laughter, and Adam grins, no doubt thinking he's got me. The seduction has begun. Oh, we fucked like crazy in that hotel room, and I'm almost hard again at the thought, but the kind of seduction that makes Adam dangerous is his ability to fuck with someone's mind. I've been inside his body; now he's determined to get inside my head, if I know him at all.
"Kitchen," he says, as if reciting the names of each room will help him remember the layout of the place. "No food?" He opens and closes a few cupboard doors, and I surprise myself by doing nothing to stop him. "You choose not to eat?"
"Don't need to." I lean against the doorframe, fold my arms, and shrug. It's almost amusing, watching him satisfy his curiosity about how I live, how I pass my days while the human race bustles by outside.
"No, we don't need to, but don't you ever miss food for its own sake?" He pushes a drawer closed, grimacing at the paltry number of knives and forks I own. "Sensual pleasure and all that."
"I have other ways of amusing myself."
"I'll just bet you do." He sidles past, taking a split second to place a hand over my crotch and give me a gentle squeeze. A warning, in the sense of I'm not done with you, yet.
"For goodness' sake, Adam; not everything's about flirting."
"Isn't it? Hmm. Is this supposed to be a bedroom? I assume that room at the front of the flat is the living room?"
"Yes. Why do you ask?"
He tuts, and, not having entered the room, turns on the spot and stares at me with that
are you stupid look on his face. "There's no bed in it, Nathan."
"So? I don't sleep. We don't sleep."
"I know we don't, Nathan." He looks me up and down again.
Good God; he hasn't changed at all. Still insatiable.
A shiver of desire ripples my spine. I try to deny that I want to fuck him again, but what else did I think was going to happen here? I'd show off my house, then Adam would be off somewhere else before the sun rose, maybe to a local safe house or dead man's hotel before returning to his former life?
"Stop. Flirting."
"Bit hard to stop flirting with the guy who had his cock up my arse for hours not so long ago." His gaze lingers on the place I want his hands to be.
"In fact, I'd say it was very hard."
"Stop it." I shift my weight from foot to foot and clear my throat unnecessarily, just to create some noise. A distraction. To give myself time to think of a way to handle this.
Adam smirks and turns back to viewing the bedroom-without-a-bed. "Bookcases and an easy chair?"
"I like to read."
"That cupboard in the corner; I assume that's where you keep all your clothes?"
"It's called a built-in wardrobe."
"I know that; I'm not stupid. I'm so not stupid that I could tell you without opening the damn thing that you have all your shirts laundered and ironed, hanging according to colour; same with trousers all immaculately pressed, creases down the front so sharp, you could shave your balls with them."
"Ha bloody ha. Have you quite finished?"
"I could prove it to you, if you like---"
"No, no, that's quite all right." My interruption stops him in his tracks. The thought of Adam feeling so at ease in my home as to wander round, inspecting different rooms and even raking through my wardrobe sets my (very sharp) teeth on edge.
I feel the frown wrinkling my brow as I follow Adam into the room he correctly surmised earlier is the living room, where he flips on the overhead light, just as he did in every other room he visited.
Bring Me to Life Page 15