D'Argent Honor - Eternal Triangle Part 1

ETERNAL TRIANGLE.

by Ann Jacobs.

Chapter One.

His houseboat rocked gently at its moorings in the wake of a fast-moving motor launch. His soft, willing slave was on her knees before him, giving him head not for a club scene but because she loved him. As he loved her. Pretty much satisfied with his life, Chad Lalanne tunneled his fingers through Katie's long dark hair and encouraged her to deep-throat him.

There was just this one thing. If only she weren't a vampire. Two months ago he hadn't even known about vampires other than that they weren't to be messed with, but then Katie had been bitten by an out-of-control Dom who'd happened to be one. It stung Chad's soul that he hadn't been able to protect her.

"Yes, like that, my angel," he said when she took him deeper, sucked him harder.

In order to be able to accept his guilt, Chad had dedicated himself to understanding everything about vampire culture and needs. It still made him feel impotent when he considered the fact that his own considerable strength meant nothing when it came to protecting his woman from the overzealous attention of a vampire.

He knew, though, that she needed a vampire companion to mentor her as well as satisfy her need for nourishment lest she lose control and feed on Chad or worse, a member of the club. Much as he hated to admit it, he also needed the protection of another male vampire. So when Katie had gone to feed at the only vampire bar in New Orleans' French Quarter and run into Philippe, a member of the honorable and powerful d'Argent clan, and when she'd subsequently told Chad that Philippe was a s.e.xual submissive, Chad knew what needed to be done.

Not that the idea of bringing a third party into their private lives didn't have potential for bringing trouble of a different kind, but as he saw it he had no choice. As a Master, he'd been struggling with his own feelings ever since checking out the tall, powerful-looking vampire and inviting him to join them tonight at the club for a menage a trois. The idea of bringing a male into their relationship, one who might consider he was Chad's as much as Katie was, tempted him for dark reasons he'd barely let himself think about, much less shared with her. He would take Philippe d'Argent as his second slave because Philippe could provide what he could not-a safe, portable supply of blood for Katie and protection from male vampires who might a.s.sault her.

But the vampire posed dangerous temptation to Chad. He'd felt it the moment Philippe had met his gaze, recognized him then deliberately broken the visual connection and lowered his eyes provocatively, much like Katie had done when she'd first knelt before him. Chad's reaction had been much the same, a tightening of his muscles with need, the absorption of his mind with every aspect of a new potential mate.

He wouldn't utilize his new slave's admittedly tempting holes. He wouldn't. After all, he was a Dominant. Master of his own s.e.xual destiny. He hadn't used another male s.e.xually in over ten years, and he wasn't about to do it now.

"Suck me, my darling," he said, his voice tight as he framed Katie's head between his hands and tried not to picture himself sucking d'Argent's c.o.c.k, shoving his own up the buff vampire's a.s.s or down his throat. "That's it." When Katie inclined her head and swallowed his full length, Chad let out a moan of satisfaction. "Oh, yeah," he croaked, drowning in the feelings...the love...the sense of receiving as well as giving s.e.xual pleasure.

Katie swallowed the last drop of her Master's hot e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.e and pulled away, looking up at him and reading the worry in his dark eyes. Even though he'd been the one to propose this menage, she sensed a confusing reluctance in him. She knew men as well as women attracted him s.e.xually, knew from the way he spoke of Philippe after meeting him that he was intrigued. Something he wouldn't discuss, something buried so deeply in his head that she couldn't put her fingers on it, was holding him back. She wished Chad would confide in her, but the only reason he admitted to for bringing another party into their relationship was to provide her with the one thing she needed to survive-a regular supply of fresh blood. That need had kept them tied in New Orleans since she'd been turned. She hated that because she knew how he missed the frequent trips they used to make into the bayou country where they'd both grown up.

She'd seen their new partner first. Something about Philippe d'Argent, with his brooding blue eyes and a look of loneliness, had caught her attention when she'd been in New Orleans' only vampire bar, trying to get used to the idea of regularly feeding her blood requirement. Working so long at Club de la soumission had given her a sixth sense about men and their intentions. She'd known from the outset who he was, sensed he wouldn't harm her even though something she couldn't put her finger on about his imposing appearance disturbed her. What had amazed her was to learn he was a submissive. She'd dared to speak to him, and he'd told her about his lost Master...his need for a strong Dom to help him over his grief. What she'd learned had been enough to take her back to tell Chad about him. Her Master had checked him out then issued the invitation.

Tonight would begin what she hoped would be a lasting arrangement, but she was in no way certain. Katie couldn't help wondering if Philippe would agree to handing over control of his s.e.xual being to a mortal Master, and whether Chad might accept an active third party in their relationship. She wasn't at all sure he could set aside the prejudices she saw as products of a mortal upbringing much like her own, and welcome another male-submissive or not-as an equal partic.i.p.ant in their s.e.xual games. Their lives.

A muggy breeze blew across the waters of the Mississippi River, making the boat rock gently on the water. A sea bird squawked his mating call from a perch on an upended oak tree that lay on the other side of the river, half on and half off the swampy land where it once had grown, its roots rising toward the sky. Katie closed her eyes against the late afternoon sun, turned away from the shuttered window and traced her Master's taut golden skin with one perfectly manicured nail. "You know, his skin will be even smoother than yours."

"Yeah, I know. More like yours?" Chad lifted her hand, brought it to his lips then sucked her forefinger inside. "Are you looking forward to having both our c.o.c.ks working inside your tight holes tonight?"

The question sounded casual, but Katie's sometimes off-putting vampire intuition allowed her to sense some of her Master's underlying qualms. "If that's your pleasure, my darling Master." His reaction puzzled her, for they frequently partic.i.p.ated in dungeon scenes where another man or men joined Chad in forcing her to the releases she sometimes found difficult to achieve.

"It is. Come. If we don't hurry, we won't make it to the club in time to meet your vampire pal." Chad stood and pulled her up. "Or for me to punish you for having looked at him while you were feeding at that bar."

Philippe couldn't quite shake the feeling someone had been watching him earlier. Probably the female vampire's Master, he thought, since it would have only been natural for a Master to go out of his way to protect his slave before coming to him and issuing an invitation for menage. He checked his watch then glanced out his office window, wincing at the brightness of the late afternoon sun. The temporary job he'd taken on-reorganizing a fellow vampire's importing business-was going faster than he'd imagined. On Monday he'd go check on the warehouses being built on higher ground than those washed away by the killer hurricane almost two years earlier. Then he'd report back to Sam, and his time would once again be his own.

He had little to take his mind off what he'd agreed to do tonight. Though grief still ruled his heart, his body had suddenly come back to life. It was time. Time to a.s.suage the ache in his b.a.l.l.s, put Jacques out of his mind and move on to a new s.e.xual relationship. Philippe sat back, fighting the compulsion to leave now and make his way to the BDSM club. Would the shy female vampire's Master take him, or would he order Philippe to service her instead? Would he remember how to f.u.c.k a woman? He sat back, closed his eyes and recalled the chance meeting he had a feeling might change his life-only he wasn't sure the change would be for the better.

This restlessness had begun last night as he'd sat alone in his room...

He was hungry, but he didn't want to go to the nearby vampire bar. It was too soon to face the place. Only one year had pa.s.sed since Philippe had wakened from an evil vampire's poison to see Jacques laid out on the edge of the dance floor there, destroyed beyond redemption.

Now Philippe stared out the window at New Orleans. The French Quarter with its promise of dark and sensual pleasures had a way of bringing back memories long buried beneath his single-minded quest to avenge his lover's death. Memories of long nights' vigils and longer days' steamy hours spent in this third-floor room of a small hotel off Decatur Street. Bodies entwined, taking each other and loving it, oblivious to the heat and humidity as the blades of an old-fashioned ceiling fan cooled them. They'd drunk from each other, symbiotic nourishment that required none other.

Philippe had lain alone on that bed staring out at the gold ball of a moon lighting an indigo sky. Since the evil vampire clan that had kept Philippe too busy to think about his lost love was no more, he now had time to grieve. To remember his Master's hands skimming over the planes of his vampire body, the sensuous stretching of his lips when he'd sucked his Master's c.o.c.k...the pleasure-pain when Jacques had first claimed his virgin a.s.s. The joy of fulfillment when Jacques had occasionally allowed Philippe to pump his own male essence into his Master's accepting mouth. Those days were gone, gone with Jacques to the sky to which dead vampires' ashes went to spend eternity.

A hundred years had pa.s.sed since Jacques had changed him. A century since Philippe had enjoyed the softness of a woman's body, the thrill of feeling her hot, wet sheath surrounding him, drawing out his seed. Well, not quite a century. Jacques had sensed his occasional need for a female's softness and had found them one to share from time to time. Philippe wrapped his fingers around his own flesh, tried to remember...

It had been too long. He'd spent too many nights in his Master's strong arms to have more than a few vague memories of long-ago encounters with women. He'd loved Jacques as he had never loved another being, mortal or immortal. His c.o.c.k hadn't stirred since his love had died, not even during the vampire orgy held a month ago in celebration of the d'Argents' final victory over their archenemy.

It stirred now, almost as if it had a mind of its own. Getting up and crossing the room, Philippe opened the rosewood box on top of the dresser and stared down at the elegantly curved silver sounds Jacques had given him for their love play. He missed the s.e.x but more than that, Philippe grieved for the lost friendship, the knowledge that he was half of a whole, an extension of his lover and Jacques an extension of himself. Still, he'd never forget his first night as a vampire or the feel of first one sound and then the next making their way down the flesh of his c.o.c.k, through his bladder and s.c.r.o.t.u.m and on to nudge his prostate gland. Or the l.u.s.t that had overcome him when the largest of the sounds was secured by piercing his flesh and pa.s.sing a thick gold ring horizontally through his p.e.n.i.s, through the eye in the sound and out the other side. Jacques had closed the ring with a captive bead. Then he'd lapped away the lubrication that seeped out around the blunt, circular end of the sound that capped the tip of his c.o.c.k head.

Philippe had become acclimated to life in the sophisticated world of the d'Argent vampires. But losing Jacques had laid his s.e.xuality dormant. Picking up the box, Philippe took it to the bed and sat beside it, the wispy mesh of the mosquito netting blowing gently in the breeze, tickling his flesh as a lover might. Many times he'd been on his knees on this bed while Jacques had taken him from behind. Now Philippe saw nothing but a crowd of noisy mortals apparently in search of yet another bar...yet another drink. Their collective restlessness seemed to rub off on him. With one hand he stroked his c.o.c.k. With the other he rubbed the polished rosewood box, tracing the elaborately carved pair of lovers forever captured in flagrante delicto.

He laughed. Strange, he could recall the Latin phrases pertinent to his mortal calling as a lawyer, but he couldn't conjure up even the faintest memory of the lovers he'd had before an angry client's bullet had sucked out his mortal life-and Jacques had rescued him with a vampire kiss.

Philippe felt his fangs elongate. His c.o.c.k thickened and throbbed against his fingers. His nipples swelled and hardened as though longing for a lover's kiss. He opened the box once more, searched by feel for the slender foot-long sound Jacques used to insert deep within his body for love play, long after the ritual was finished. With the fingers of his other hand he twisted the threaded end of the thick barbell he wore in his Ampellang piercing until it loosened. Then he slid the bar through his c.o.c.k and out the other side.

As the sound moved through his s.c.r.o.t.u.m, Philippe felt drops of lubrication well up around it. A sense of s.e.xual urgency surged through him when he found his prostate and began to stroke it with the blunt end of the sound. G.o.ds, but he wanted to drink his partner's come, or feel the total ecstasy of a ma.s.sive c.o.c.k pounding against the sound, of hot, slick fluid spurting up his a.s.s. Just imagining that had Philippe's c.o.c.k jerking, stimulated by the sound and his imagination. Yet he did not come. His climax was for his Master, and his Master was gone. Giving his full attention to his newly awakened c.o.c.k, Philippe carefully threaded the barbell back through the piercing just behind his c.o.c.k head, fed it through the eyelet in the sound and secured it.

The thick ring he'd had at first had been much more convenient for securing a sound. But his Master had preferred the smoother feel of the barbell on the rare occasions when he'd allowed Philippe to penetrate his throat or his tight, inviting a.s.s. Perhaps I'll change it to suit myself. Perhaps I'll cut my hair. But he knew he wouldn't. Not unless he found a new Master.

His need to feed, a dull pang of hunger before, raged in Philippe's head. His fangs elongated when he spied an elderly tourist pa.s.sing on the street below and pictured himself sinking his fangs into her throat. He had to feed quickly. A vampire could only suppress that bodily urge for so long. Not wanting to revisit the scene of his Master's death but unwilling to prey on an unsuspecting mortal, he made his way downstairs and the few yards down the street to the bar.

From his seat at the bar he studied the early evening crowd, a few dark-skinned Owenga in colorful native garb, some businessmen winding up the night's activities...and one very lonely-looking female vampire perched three stools down from him. From her dark hair and honey-colored eyes, he guessed she hailed from one of the southern European countries. She had a lost look about her...a look he imagined mirrored his own.

"Would you like an introduction?" Philippe looked up when the waiter spoke, saw an expectant look in his eyes.

"Just a draft of O negative, if you please." Unusual. Most vampires had a sixth sense about each other's s.e.xual preferences, but then Philippe himself wasn't all that certain of his own when his c.o.c.k twitched, making the sound inside it reverberate off his flesh when he ogled the female's rounded a.s.s cheeks covered with jeans so tight they must have been painted on. They'd be soft, and so would her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, he knew, pulling from vague recollections from long ago. He itched to wrap his hands around her tiny waist, hold her...sink his c.o.c.k into her and come. His b.a.l.l.s ached, and his c.o.c.k throbbed urgently beneath his loose linen slacks.

He wanted her like he hadn't wanted a woman in over a century. Yet he sensed submissiveness in her downcast eyes, her shy demeanor. And gave up the notion of having her ease his l.u.s.t. He had to have a Master...or a Mistress. He could manage a complex business with ease, control the work lives of scores of employees. But it did no good to deny that in s.e.xual matters he was purely submissive. "Au revoir, mademoiselle," he said softly, and from the look in her eyes he sensed she understood.

But he couldn't look away. Something about the slight angle she held her head, the dainty way she sipped her winegla.s.s full of rich, red blood...the occasional furtive looks she shot in his direction fascinated him, made him want to challenge her. Deliberately he moved back from the bar and turned so she couldn't fail to notice his erection. And they talked, exchanged names, danced around desire neither one of them had been able to deny.

Philippe turned back to his desk, tidied the stacks of papers and shut down the computer. Maybe if he focused on the mundane he'd be able to treat the coming evening as what it was-a BDSM scene, nothing more.

Then he picked up the card the Master had handed him, looked at the elaborately scripted scarlet lettering on a black background etched with a subtle rendition of handcuffs and a coiled whip. Club de la soumission. Philippe had heard the name before from some of the d'Argent males who had made use of its facilities. His c.o.c.k felt as though it might explode, so loudly was the sound reverberating against its inner walls. Turning the card over, he looked once more at the note on the back, visually scanned the small, no-nonsense block print.

Tonight. Nine o'clock. Give the card to the manager and ask for Katie and Master Chad.

Philippe could hardly wait. He remembered the times Jacques had found a female they could share, recalled the joys of working with her to serve their Master's pleasure. The prospect of doing it again-sharing a Master with Katie-had him more eager than he'd been for decades. But it wasn't only joining her in serving her Master that had him reacting this way. It was the Master himself, the way Philippe had reacted to meeting him. He'd never thought another Master would stir his c.o.c.k the way Jacques had. But that flesh had leaped to life, startling him, when the mortal Master had appraised him, his aggressive stance spurring an urge in Philippe to submit. Philippe had lowered his eyes, but it had disturbed him. The first time he'd felt this way since Jacques, so of course guilt and resistance had stirred. When he'd looked up in defiance against his long-held grief, Chad was already gone. But his hard-on was still with him.

Eager to take Katie's lush body at the Master's command. To bring their woman pleasure with his c.o.c.k while Chad f.u.c.ked him...

She saw him the moment he stepped inside the club. Her p.u.s.s.y swelled. Her nipples turned hard as stone. She swore the smell of s.e.x began to fill the room as she stared shamelessly at the bold outline of his c.o.c.k beneath those loose-fitting trousers. No one would mistake Philippe for anything but a d'Argent vampire-tall, muscular, with dark hair that lay in waves past his broad shoulders over the fine material of an aqua dress shirt. He looked elegant, self-a.s.sured. Not the least bit submissive except for the downcast eyes, the slight tilt of his head that had his hair obscuring one side of his handsome face.

His hair. That was what had struck Katie as unusual about Philippe. The d'Argent males she'd encountered before wore their hair short-except for the submissive ones. They shaved their heads as a sign of their s.e.xual enslavement, unlike her mortal Master who kept his own head clean-shaven as a statement of his Dominance. Philippe's brilliant blue eyes marked him a vampire made, for as she'd heard it, all the born d'Argents had green eyes.

She lowered her gaze to his crotch, eyeing the impressive bulge of his s.e.x. He'd be pierced, she hoped, because according to what she'd heard, all made d'Argents who were able to function s.e.xually wore rings through their c.o.c.ks. It would have been a shame if that monster hard-on he'd displayed so blatantly last night had been just for looks.

Katie loved her Master. She'd loved him since they'd both been mortals indulging their s.e.xual preferences with members at Club de la soumission, before a vampire Dom had lost control and changed her. Still, she couldn't help imagining this gorgeous stranger forcing her to her knees, stuffing his c.o.c.k into her mouth. Or mounting her from behind, filling her a.s.s or c.u.n.t and ramming into her over and over until he screamed with the force of his climax. She'd like for him to tie her up and discipline her. Take her blood for his sustenance and give her his. Be as much her Master in the bedroom as Chad was.

But I am submissive, like you. I cannot be what you're looking for in a lover. He'd said that last night when they'd been two lonely vampires taking their nourishment in a vampire bar. She'd met his gaze, found his mind so open she'd been able to read not only his conscious thoughts but also his ambivalence. He wanted her but yet he didn't. He wasn't sure he could take a dominant role, or even if he could make love to her. That hesitance was what made her certain he'd be ideal as a partner for her and her mortal Master. If Chad would accept a male vampire submissive as their partner en menage tonight, perhaps he'd invite Philippe into their relationship and make it whole.

His gaze settled on the padlocked collar around her throat then moved to sear her b.r.e.a.s.t.s with vampire heat. Come to me, she projected, for her voice had deserted her. Please.

His desire came through strongly, a vampiric projection of thoughts too private to put in words. I want you to reach down, caress my c.o.c.k. Roll my t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es between your palms while I feed from that vein you've deliberately made so vulnerable. Katie hesitated a moment then crossed the room, oblivious to all eyes but his.

She held his gaze, took his hand, tried not to notice the wetness of her p.u.s.s.y or the tightness of her nipples. Instead she concentrated on the weight of her Master's collar, the jingling of its padlock against the gold hasp. "If that is what our Master desires, it will be my pleasure. Welcome to Club de la soumission. You'd best hurry and disrobe. Our Master awaits us in the observation chamber."

Chapter Two.

Philippe followed Katie, his feelings mixed. Dungeons had never been a major turn-on for him, and he found the constant thwacks of floggers. .h.i.tting flesh a bit distracting as he crossed the main salon. Not that he hadn't enjoyed the occasional discipline sessions Jacques had meted out, or the humiliation of being shared by Jacques with their vampire friends. But being watched by strangers? Mortals?

It would be all right. After all, Katie and Master Chad were employees here, and she seemed quite at home. She'd made him comfortable at the bar last night, at a time when he'd thought nothing could have taken his mind off the chilling memory of Jacques lying on that very floor, destroyed. Philippe found himself focusing not only on her soft and willing body that might be his tonight, but also on the Master who might choose to claim them both.

After all, having dozens of mortals watching their scene couldn't be all that different from partic.i.p.ating in one of the d'Argent clan's vampire orgies, Philippe told himself as he stripped down in one of two anterooms outside the torture chamber. If he'd been mortal, he imagined he'd have been slick with sweat. As it was, his skin was flushed and his pulse raced with antic.i.p.ation as well as a good bit of dread. Sitting on the bench, he inserted the sound in his c.o.c.k and secured it with the barbell. He brushed his hair and restrained it at his nape with a black leather thong.

He hadn't cut it since Jacques... No, Philippe wouldn't think of his dead Master, not now. He gathered his courage and walked through the swinging door into the torture chamber. Katie was already there, secured over a side horse while her Master cracked a cat-o'-nine over her lush a.s.s cheeks.

A golden G.o.d, the Dominant laid another stinging blow on that delectable flesh, his well-defined muscles bunching beneath his skin. Philippe couldn't take his eyes off the mortal's rippling muscles or his tanned, hairless skin. His perfectly sculpted oiled scalp gleamed in the glow of several muted spotlights. Obviously comfortable in his own s.e.xual Dominance, the Master wore nothing but black leather chaps that drew Philippe's eye to his large, low-hanging b.a.l.l.s. Philippe's mouth watered at the sight of the Master's c.o.c.k, long and thick and already erect, its head purplish with a drop of lubrication glistening at its tip. As far as Philippe could tell, the Master wasn't pierced except for his left ear, where a large gold hoop dangled.

Philippe's own s.e.x hardened when he imagined the buff mortal invading him, taking him, punishing him the way he was punishing Katie. He'd whip him first then ram that big, hard tool up Philippe's a.s.s and make him come. Chad must have sensed his presence because he laid the whip down and turned to Philippe, who quickly lowered his head and focused his gaze on the chamber's polished marble floor.

Chad's mouth watered when the vampire approached, not on hands and knees as Chad expected of his subs but upright. Only his downcast eyes and respectfully lowered head hinted at the submissive role he intended to play, but Chad a.s.sumed this would be the vampire's first club scene and refrained from chastising him. Besides, he made an arousing picture, his pale skin a stark contrast with shoulder-length dark hair, muscles rippling beneath skin so smooth no amount of waxing could have achieved it. Vampire skin. The pierced c.o.c.k-an Ampellang studded with a hefty barbell-jutted straight out from thighs as thick as tree trunks. The gold cap covering the tip of the vampire's c.o.c.k head confirmed the presence of a sound or wand inside the impressive length.

"Look at me, slave." Dark lashes fluttered, and the sub looked up at Chad with clear blue eyes, just long enough to give a hesitant greeting, and his full lips curved into a smile that revealed gleaming white fangs. And desire.

Chad could tell that look, he'd seen it often enough, working as a Dominant here at Club de la soumission. To Master this one Chad would have to touch him like a lover, f.u.c.k his vampire a.s.s-kiss those delectable lips and feel them on his own c.o.c.k, sucking out his come. He told himself he didn't want to do it, that he'd promised his father years ago never to sodomize a male or let himself be sodomized again.

But then again he'd vowed to Katie when he took her as his permanent s.e.x slave that his greatest wish was to see to her care and s.e.xual pleasure. Since she now was a vampire, caring for her properly included taking a vampire partner en menage. A male vampire whose strength could protect her against the threat of another male vampire's attack. "Move closer," he spat out, angry with himself for having become so aroused at the idea of f.u.c.king another male.

The vampire obeyed, stopping within Chad's arm length. The look he shot at Chad was a clear challenge. Chad took it, reached out and squeezed the jutting c.o.c.k that practically touched his own belly. "Does it work without the jewelry?" he asked, turning so his own throbbing c.o.c.k nudged the vampire's.

"If you wish it to."

"If you wish it, Master." For a sub, this vampire lacked the tone of groveling respect Chad was used to hearing from the ones who frequented the dungeon.

The vampire inclined his head, focused his gaze on Chad's c.o.c.k and his own. "Master," he said, bowing his head the way a proper sub should.

"On your knees, vampire. Katie, tell this vampire what you want of him." Chad gave Katie a light slap on one reddened a.s.s cheek.

"His c.o.c.k, Master, if that is your desire."

Chad turned back to the vampire, tried to tamp down his own unholy compulsion to see if that pale skin felt as smooth as it looked. To feel the big pierced c.o.c.k penetrating his a.s.s. To cool his l.u.s.t he reminded himself his considerable strength would be as nothing if his male vampire slave should decide to turn on him. "You heard Katie," he snapped, furious that the vampire fired forbidden desires he'd long kept under wraps. "Stand up. She wants to feel your c.o.c.k in her a.s.s. First, though, lick her p.u.s.s.y. Stick your tongue inside and taste her cream. You'll like her rear hole. Unlike mortals', it's tight, clean, made for nothing but f.u.c.king, but then you'd know that, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, Master." The vampire bent and began licking Katie's p.u.s.s.y, obviously paying special attention to soothing the welts that had almost healed in the few moments since Chad had whipped her. Though he certainly possessed a vampire's superhuman strength, this one would be a gentle sub...one who'd take Chad's s.e.xual orders without question. Realizing that had Chad imagining...

His own c.o.c.k spurting into the vampire's mouth, his a.s.s. Him watching the vampire f.u.c.k his woman. Removing the sound from his slave's jutting p.e.n.i.s and sucking out his seed.

Chad settled his gaze on the vampire's tight a.s.s cheeks, imagined them beet-red from a flogger. Would his vampire a.s.s be as inviting as Katie's? Of course it would be. That sound would vibrate against my c.o.c.k like... He wouldn't wait any longer. "f.u.c.k her now," he ordered. The vampire stood and rubbed his c.o.c.k head along Katie's exposed c.u.n.t, the tip of the embedded sound stroking soft, wet female s.e.x. Chad's own c.o.c.k swelled to bursting, its slit opening, preparing... "Put it in her. All the way."

When the vampire spread Katie's a.s.s cheeks and worked his big c.o.c.k into her tight little a.s.s, Chad almost ordered him to take it out and f.u.c.k him instead. But he didn't. Instead he stroked the vampire's straining b.u.t.tocks, gave his seed sac a twist then let go as he prepared to penetrate. "I'm going to f.u.c.k your a.s.s, slave. Fill you with hot mortal juice. When I do, you will give Katie a vampire kiss. You will not come unless I say so." With almost brutal force, he breached his lover's tight a.n.a.l sphincter. Almost immediately the vibrations of the vampire's sound had Chad's b.a.l.l.s tightening, his c.o.c.k ready to spurt out his seed.

He was determined to hold out, endure the delicious sensations, slide in and out of the vampire's tight a.s.s while the vampire slammed his thick tool in and out of their woman's rear hole. His b.a.l.l.s collided with the vampire's. Katie's little moans fed Chad's l.u.s.t. His own b.a.l.l.s tightened. His c.o.c.k felt like iron. f.u.c.k but he had to come.

It was still too soon. But he couldn't help it. The vibrations...the vampire's tight a.s.s gripping the base of his c.o.c.k... The inner muscles clutching his flesh were hard, not soft. Erotic sensations flowed through Chad when their b.a.l.l.s collided with every stroke. Vibrations stimulated his prostate almost as much as if he were the one wearing the sound. "Now," he rasped, sinking his mortal teeth into the vampire's muscular neck as the vampire pierced Katie's jugular the way Chad wished he could.

He bit down, tasting a drop of vampire blood, imagining puncturing the vampire's vein the way the vampire had done to Katie, taking his sustenance from his lovers...giving sustenance to them. His c.o.c.k jerked wildly as he spilled burst after burst of slick, hot seed into the vampire's a.s.s.

Spent, he collapsed over the vampire's broad back and buried his fingers in the long fall of his hair. Oh G.o.d, he'd had sensations like never before, not even when as a young man of eighteen he'd given in to temptation back home and f.u.c.ked the new parish priest's tempting a.s.s. He could see why the Greeks had idealized man-love, the h.o.m.os.e.xual relationships frowned on in the modern mortal world where he must abide.

Most of the time Chad viewed that brief experience as an aberration and Father Andre as one who'd richly deserved the tar-and-feathering he'd received when they'd been caught. Sometimes-now included-Chad saw the priest for what he'd been, less one with a religious calling than one desperately attempting to deny how strongly he was s.e.xually attracted to other men. And he hadn't been submissive by nature, only to G.o.d. The two elements together had been impossible for Chad to resist. He feared they were impossible to resist now with the vampire, as well.

Only thing, the stigma attached to submission and same-s.e.x s.e.xual relationships would no longer be there to cripple him with guilt...if he should join his lovers' vampire world.

Once his Master withdrew, Philippe did the same, desperate to have the sound removed before his flesh exploded. He entered the Master's mind, read the self-denial, the shame... the underlying desire to leave the strictures of mortal society and join the world of the undead. And the denial of that unholy wish. Chad was a s.e.xual Dominant who loved Katie, his female slave, with a love that transcended s.e.x, and who desperately wanted not to want the sensations presently flowing through his body-those seemed the only facts of which the mortal was certain.

Tall, muscular in the way of a mortal who pa.s.sed his days at a gym, the Master was almost as hairless as a vampire. His golden skin glowed from a recent oiling, and his skull gleamed. Funny. In Philippe's world a shaved head was the sign of a male submissive, where in the mortal world the style apparently indicated Dominance.

Philippe fell to his knees. Reaching on the underside of the sound's cap, he retrieved a small tool and held it out in his open palm. "As you said, Master, you control my coming. This opens the barbell so you can remove it and the sound when it serves your pleasure. May you have mercy." He lowered his head once more, tried desperately to ignore the vibrations that rolled with vicious regularity through his male flesh...his entire body.

"I am Chad Lalanne, and I am your Master. I want you to tell me your name, although rest a.s.sured I may change it."

"If it pleases you, Master, my name is Philippe. Philippe d'Argent." Philippe waited, barely breathing. He could crush the man's bones with barely a thought. Males of any species were compet.i.tive, and Chad would be highly cognizant of their differences in strength. But would he realize that as a Master, with Philippe as a submissive, he had a power over him that transcended vampires and mortals?