Kissing . . . kissing, they bucked and writhed, shoving hips, rocking cocks. Pressure built. Cas’s shaft throbbed from it. Pain. Bliss. Pain. Every one of Mirceo’s helpless moans ratcheted up the brutal intensity.
Against his lips, Mirceo rasped, “About to spill in my pants! Don’t stop!” Cas drew his head back to witness the vampire in the throes. Mirceo’s smoldering gray eyes had turned black with need. “I’ve dreamed about this, beautiful. Ride me! Use me, demon. Use me to come. Do it. Ah, gods, DO IT—”
Mirceo’s back bowed. “AHHHH!” Head thrashing, he began to ejaculate; Cas could scent it.
The vampire’s hot, creamy seed.
That scent hurled Cas over the edge. He was going to culminate with this male harder than he ever had before. Heart thundering, he tensed as if to take a blow.
His release was a detonation.
He threw back his head and roared to the ceiling. Bliss radiated throughout every inch of his body from his scalp to his curling toes. His mind turned over. His heart in his chest.
Pleasure had bested him. The hunter had been slain. . . .
Cas shook his head hard. Beat this obsession. Sex beckoned mere feet away. His females for the night had started leisurely sixty-nining.
A pair of courtesans going down on each other would normally put him in a lather to join in. But the sight did little to soothe his agitation.
Two options: I’m bisexual, or Mirceo is somehow enthralling me. In Poly, Cas had encountered males that others considered attractive and felt nothing. Yet just recalling the scent of Mirceo’s cum made his cock throb.
His head snapped around when the vampire’s voice sounded from the hallway. A nearby door opened and closed. Mirceo’s low, accented words came from the next room over.
He would be bedding two nymphs on the other side of that wall.
Will I hear him spending? Those females screaming?
Damn him! Cas refused to allow Mirceo to ruin this for him. He would join the two panting courtesans in bed, taking them so long and loud that the vampire never doubted Cas was free of him forever. . . .
ELEVEN
My plan isn’t working out as intended.
Mirceo paced, crazed at the thought of his mate with another. With others. Yes, the demon had bedded countless females before, as had Mirceo . . .
But now he’s blooded me. Now he’s brought me back to life.
Mirceo’s own dates lay unclothed on the large bed, marveling at his behavior. He might’ve thought he would miss lush breasts and curvy bodies—he’d desired females and males equally—but now all he wanted was one very stubborn demon.
Even an immortal like Mirceo had to strain to hear sounds in the next room. These walls were thick by design. Want to see him!
The Dacians were secret observers; tonight Mirceo would return to form. Planning to test his enhanced abilities, he whispered to the nymphs, “Back in a moment.” He traced into the hall, then transformed into mist. Invisible, scentless, he flowed into Caspion’s room, merging with the wall.
The demon sat on a divan, lost in thought. He didn’t seem to register what the females were doing to each other—though their wantonness was brow-raising.
Ah, the play of emotions on Caspion’s face: lust, misery, then wrath. The demon clenched his fists and stood, staring in the direction of Mirceo’s room.
I need something to spur him into action. But what? Ah, yes . . . Withdrawing as invisibly as he’d entered, he returned to his own room. “Ladies,” he told his nymphs, “I’ll pay a fortune in gold if either of you can amuse me.” He feigned a bored yawn. “Make me laugh.” Whenever he and Caspion had gone out carousing, they’d often laughed for hours. Caspion had once drunkenly admitted, “I like your laugh, vampire. Rubs me on the inside.” If the demon heard Mirceo’s amusement now . . .
Rising to the challenge, one of the nymphs recited a bawdy limerick. Mirceo did laugh. Loudly.
Five . . . four . . . three . . . two— Caspion appeared and lunged for Mirceo, tracing him in midair. Suddenly, they were outside the palace in the damp night. The rolling green hills all around were covered with dew. The waxing moon hung heavy above.
Caspion shoved him against the exterior wall, cracking the bricks. “I could kill you for this!”
Mirceo drawled, “Decided to get me alone all to yourself?” For the first time, he was attracted to a warrior who could overpower him, a Dacian, and make him submit. Surprisingly, that thought got Mirceo hard as stone.
Who knew?
Behind Caspion, a palace sentinel exited to check out the commotion, but Mirceo waved him away. Attention back on the demon, he said, “All you had to do was ask.”
_______
“You want to ruin everything I enjoy? Why?”
“When was the last time you enjoyed it?” the vampire demanded. “You took me from those females because you’re jealous of me with others!”
I . . . am.
How? When had this bone-deep possessiveness taken hold? “You called me your mate, but the day after your blooding, you’re right back in a brothel! Exactly as I’d expect.”
“Because I knew you’d be here, you lout, and I wanted to provoke you.” Moonlight shimmered over the vampire’s face and eyes. The black ring around his light irises grew, onyx overwhelming gray.
Spellbinding me.
Had Cas earned all his new strength only to be helpless against this male? Never. Cas snapped his fangs. His horns straightened, half in lust, half in fury.
Mirceo’s brows drew together. “Fuck, you get my cock hard when you go demonic.”
Cas growled. He watched in disbelief as his hands shot out to seize the vampire’s nape.
And then they were kissing, gnashing fangs, tongues tangling. Madness. How Cas had missed this madness! How much he hated it! His mind wasn’t wandering; he was hyperaware of every detail, dialed in to the vampire’s responses with a laserlike focus.
Never breaking their kiss, Mirceo reached down between them, fumbling with Cas’s fly. In the cool night, he shoved Cas’s pants to his knees. Then his own.
Cas jolted when heat seared him; their bared shafts had made contact. He hissed in a breath just as Mirceo lost his—they were even fucking breathing for each other!
Mirceo took both of their cocks into his hands, stroking them together. The sensations were unfamiliar. But so good.
He imagined what Mirceo’s length would look like pressed against his own, and couldn’t keep from bucking into the vampire’s iron grip.
Was that Mirceo’s pre-cum? Or my own?
Between kisses, the prince admitted, “You drive me insane with jealousy!”
Cas yanked Mirceo’s hair free of its queue, then threaded his fingers through the length. “Get used to jealousy—because once this fever passes tonight, I will be with females.”
Mirceo grazed a fang over Cas’s jugular. “I’ll never allow it.”
Cas tilted his head back and stared up at the sky. “And you think to stop me?”
“Every time you’re inside a female, I vow to the Lore I will be too.”