Excerpt from ‘One Forbidden’
Well, I wanted to post SOMEthing today and my next review doesn’t look like it’ll be done (getting a bit rant-y), so here’s a yummy excerpt of one of the pieces I’m currently working on, One Forbidden – the prequel to Precious One.
Prince Azazel and his beloved general, Tynen, just returned to the tent from a battle. No sex, exactly, but definitely some sexy blood-sucking happening…
Tipping his head to the side to expose his throat, Tynen said, “drink from me.”
The unyielding trust made Azazel’s stomach tighten even further, but he made no move to bite. “I will not take from you. You need your strength.”
Tynen shook his head with a small smile. “I gorged myself so you could have from me. I know it makes you uncomfortable to feed from the humans; do not pretend. It is why you keep no consorts.”
Azazel’s fingers brushed almost reverently over the cream white column of Tynen’s throat, even marred as it was with the filth of days. His fangs extended at even the thought of sinking into that beloved flesh, but still he hesitated. Tynen’s strong hands came up his back to cradle his head, pushing it gently but inexorably down. Azazel did not fight, but turned his head to rest his cheek on his lover’s shoulder.
Sighing, Tynen ran his fingers through Azazel’s dirty hair. “Please, drink. I cannot see you so weak and underfed; you are already far too thin and you have not eaten for days.”
Azazel gave a deep chuckle. “You only insist because of how hard it makes you.” He punctuated his point by cupping Tynen’s groin through his breeches.
Responding with a little pleasure growl and clack of his teeth, Tynen’s hands returned to Azazel’s lower back. It made the prince burn with shame – he knew his lover could feel his strength fading and was trying to make him lean for support. “Feed before you drop,” Tynen muttered, his voice full of a steadfast and protective caring.
In a rare moment of defferent docility, Azazel nuzzled Tynen’s shoulder. “All right. Take off all of your clothes. I will want you and I will not want to wait.”
Tynen’s gave smouldered as he pulled away and shucked his tunic. He was covered in nicks and scratches and bruises banded his ribs and spotted his arms, but he was still moutherwatering – tall and statuesque, muscles sharply defined, broad shoulders tapering into a slender, lithe core. When he stepped out of his breeches his cock was already half-proud. Stepping over to the water basin, he took a dipperful and poured it where his shoulder met his neck, cleaning the spot Azazel’s lips would touch.
The prince actually felt faint as what blood he had in him left his head immediately. It had been too long since he’d touched Tynen, had Tynen. His lover was so trusting, so loyal, so willing. He stripped himself of his own tunic and let his breeches fall, unable to take his eyes off of the rivulets of water caressing their way down Tynen’s torso. He placed one hand on his lover’s hip, pulling him near again, pressing them flush chest-to-back. Arousal pounded through him as his body realized that his cock was in the position to claim, and his vision went tunnel as Tynen Presented to him. He could see the pulse point under the skin and was overwhelmed by that familiar spicy smell.
He had the overwhelming urge to drop his jaw and bite with his bottom fangs also, but he knew only too well he could not bite Tynen this way; only a marked consort. Nonetheless, his lover’s neck begged for it. He kept himself carefully in check as he lowered his head, drawing his tongue across the nape of Tynen’s neck in a sharp swathe, his saliva numbing the surface. His lover relaxed completely against him, trusting, giving himself.
Slowly, Azazel pressed his fangs into the muscle connecting neck and shoulder. Tynen let out a soft hiss, his body tensing momentarily from the pain. Then, the pleasant poison kicked in and he let out a long, aroused sigh.
Azazel was lost from the first hint of copper that leaked from the neat wound. He began to suck gently, giving a groan of satisfaction as the heady flavour of it rushed into his mouth. His first swallow was cautious, and it burned its way down through his gut, sending a powerful burst of vitality through him. After that, he could not stop. His starving body cried out for more, and he gulped it down almost greedily. Tynen moaned, bowing his back. His hands, which had somehow ended up reaching backwards to rest on Azazel’s ass, clenched.
As soon as Azazel felt the first pang of fullness, he released Tynen’s neck with sorrow, immediately swiping his tongue across the punctures to clean away the blood and ease the pain. He hated to lose such an intimate connection with his lover, a connection he knew he could keep, at least in part, if only they could Mark each other.
If only.
