Chapter Fourteen
Hollen
“This is weird.” Hollen kept his voice low as he slipped into the kitchen, his new white shirt still surprisingly stainless after many round trips to the dining room. “How do I pretend that I don’t know what they are?”
The other servers didn’t seem to mind, their expressions almost empty as they moved back and forth like clockwork. Even an occasional correction from the chef didn’t seem to affect them, their lips seemingly sealed as they worked.
It was like working with a bunch of ghosts.
Still beat the customers, though.
He dropped the silver pan he’d been carrying into a nearby sink that was brimming with soapy water. There was another fresh tray already waiting for him on the counter, piled with delicate pastries adorned with peaches.
“I avoid looking at their mouths as much as possible,” said the chef, grinning as Hollen looked at him with wide eyes. “Sorry… Couldn’t help but overhear.” He held out his flour-covered hand, clasping Hollen’s and shaking it firmly. “Sean. Nice to officially meet you.”
“Hollen.” He stared at the powder left behind from the handshake, dipping his hand into the blistering water to wash it clean. He’d seen Sean that first night, but he’d never introduced himself, too busy with acting the fool.
“Cute. Sounds Christmassy.” Sean dove his fingers back into the dough he was kneading. There was flour on almost every part of him except his sleeves, including a smudge on his cheek. Sweat was beading on his forehead, his biceps bulging with each turn. It was mighty distracting, if Hollen were being honest.
“It kind of is,” said Hollen, leaning against the closest wall and letting the coolness soak into him. It was hot in the restaurant, almost warmer than he remembered Munro’s room being.
Hollen smiled. “I was born on boxing day, so I just missed it.” His feet were aching, along with his hands from carrying so many heavy trays back and forth.
The quiet lady in the kitchen who seemed only to plate and pour continued to work, her hair completely in place without a hint of tiredness about her. As soon as one filled tray disappeared, she began to work meticulously on the next, never seeming to miss any details in her silence.
It had to be getting close to midnight, and sleep was pulling at him in the worst way. Apparently, vampires had no issue with going out in the sun, so he had no clue why they wanted to be out so late, or why they wanted to eat pastries at all. From what he’d seen, there was no blood in any of the recipes.
“Is this your first time working with vampires?” asked Sean, patting the dough until it was in a rounded ball, before tossing it onto a large metal tray with a few others. “Most of my family are blood suckers, so I had an in.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Ten years ago, I would have done anything to open my own bakery, but it wasn’t in the cards.”
“Yeah.” Hollen curled his toes in his tight black shoes. They were a size too small, but it was all he’d been able to find that would match his ensemble. “I’ve had some pretty weird jobs, but nothing like this.”
“Munro’s pretty cool, and he’s not like some of this group. He’ll back off if you ask him to, unlike Rhys. That guy’s just an ass.” Sean nudged his shoulder, pointing to a scar on his neck that was barely noticeable. “Happened my second day. You stay away from Rhys if you don’t want to match.”
Hollen felt the blood drain from his face, and he had to lean heavily on the counter wall. He’d been so very close to matching that his head ached.
“Don’t worry about that, though,” said Sean. “You must be used to it from your own family. They vamps? Or something else?” He grabbed some plastic wrap, covering the tray before sliding it along the back counter where there were three trays like it already resting.
“Not really,” said Hollen, scratching the back of his head. “A few months ago, I didn’t even know vampires existed.” He touched his neck in the same place Munro had kissed so gently the day before. The skin was sensitive, sending goosebumps all down his arms and to his toes.
He dropped his hand. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to get hard just thinking about it. He doubted that would fly.
“Shit.” Sean paused, looking him up and down. “Are you a shifter then? Some of the old packs are pretty out there on traditions. You don’t give off many weird vibes, though.”
“Um, nope.” Hollen looked over his shoulder. The lady wasn’t ready with the next tray yet, and the coast was clear otherwise. He wasn’t sure if she could even hear him. “I’m kind of possessed by a demon.”
Sean’s eyes went wide.
“He’s a really nice guy.” Hollen held out his hand. “He’s saved my butt a few times. But yeah, he talks a lot. He told me about vampires and all that.” But I’ll have to ask him about shifters sometime.
“Huh.” Sean grabbed another hunk of dough out of the large mixing bowl, throwing it on the floured work surface. “I didn’t know that was a thing. Growing up with vamps, I never believed in God much, so I guess I didn’t think demons were around.”
Hollen let out a breath. He’d thought he would be faced with the same reaction as Adair’s. Things had improved on that front, but there was still a tenseness to the air every time they were in the same room.
“Does he have a name, or does that give you power over him?” asked Sean, making air quotes with his filthy hands. He chuckled as he pushed hard against the dough, the ball stretching smoothly before he folded it over itself again.
“His real name is hard for me to remember, so I just call him George. He’s cool with it.” Hollen smiled, shifting closer to Sean. His hands were huge, practically pulverizing the dough as he stretched and turned it with practiced ease.
“You best get the next one out there, kid,” said Sean, nodding to the piled tray that the lady had set out just a few minutes before. “For as long as they live, I’ve never met a patient vamp.”
“Thanks, Sean.”
“No problem, kid.” Sean tossed the rounded ball on a fresh metal tray, reaching for another chunk. “Stick around. It’s nice to talk to another mostly regular guy who isn’t hypnotized to the teeth.”
Hollen frowned, his gaze locked on the lady as she started on another tray. Her movements were smooth and meticulous, but Sean was right. She didn’t speak—not a word, her eyes glazed and distant. When she stared at him, there was nothing behind the emptiness as she looked through him.
What the hell? He took a step back with one tray in his hands, quickly retreating from the kitchen.
Entering the dining room, he had to blink to see through the shadows of the low lights, the warmth enhanced by the spiciness of tea. He approached the next table, desserts held high so he could easily slip the tower onto the middle of it. There were two seated vampires that were speaking another language, and they gave him about the same amount of attention as every other table had.
It wasn’t as if there were any questions between them. Every group got the same glass and food for a menu that Sean had mentioned changed every time he desired. There were no substitutions—no extras, only tea and treats before they would leave.
It was one of the strangest restaurants he’d ever been a part of. There were others when his notebook would be full at the end of the night with lists of substitutions and all of the questions he’d had to ask the kitchen. This was almost monotonous in its simplicity.
One of the vampires snatched a treat from the tray, taking a small nibble before offering it to the other. He grasped it from his fingers with his mouth, dragging his tongue to wipe the traces of fresh cream away. The first one grinned, a fond look on his face as he brushed some stray cream from his partner’s bottom lip.
It was sweet —not the biting and slashing that Hollen had expected and had seen before. They were all new faces, too, except the one woman who watched him from a far table. Someone else had served her, and she had mostly ignored the tray, her gaze locked on Hollen every time he came and went.
When Hollen turned away, an empty tray clutched in his hands, he spotted Munro standing at the entrance to the kitchen, a soft look on his face. He regarded the room with a regal type of relaxation that Hollen hadn’t seen before. There was no edge—no hunger—just contentment.
Hollen looked away, heat rising to his cheeks. He’d managed to avoid Munro for hours, only for him to appear right now. He’d seen him in passing once or twice, always managing to slip out of view. He just wasn’t exactly sure what was expected.
“You’re doing well,” said Munro as he approached, opening the swinging door to the kitchen for him. “Not a single spill.”
I guess we’re not talking about it. But it was impossible for Hollen to forget the feeling of Munro’s lips against his—or the taste of him that flooded his senses.
“Well.” He glanced down at his shirt. A peach had been left on one of the trays, and it had been slippery enough to slide straight off the surface and onto his chest. He’d scrubbed at it right away, but there was still a tiny spot left behind that he only noticed when he squinted.
“You look good.” Munro followed him into the kitchen, not looking at Sean, even as the chef inclined his head. “I was worried you wouldn’t come after what happened.”
Hollen’s cheeks burned, and he ducked his head, pointedly not looking at Sean. “It’s a good thing I did. I remember more servers when I came here. Did you fire everyone but the four of us?” It was busy enough that he could have used another two sets of hands to keep up.
“Something like that,” said Munro. Sean snorted as he wiped his work surface clean. He’d made close to forty balls of dough, each almost exactly the same size, despite how Hollen hadn’t seen a scale once.
“Oh, God.” Hollen covered his mouth with his free hand, his stomach protesting. “Did you eat them?”
Now Sean really did laugh, shaking his head before he turned to the loaves that had been proofing for an hour. Removing the plastic, he slapped them into oiled tins with expert precision.
“Remember what I said, kid? Munro’s one of the good ones.” Sean chuckled as he looked over his shoulder. “Right, boss?”
Munro pressed his lips into a thin line, shooting Sean a mild glare. “They weren’t to my tastes.” He found Hollen with his gaze, softening right away. “I have to hypnotize my employees to keep them from seeing who and what passes through the doors. I can only make it last so long before I return them home, their memories somewhat blank and their bank account adequately compensated.”
“Oh.” That’s not as bad as I thought. Hollen chewed on his lip. But why not me?
“ He’s lying ,” said George, his voice startling Hollen so badly that he jerked, the tray falling from his hands. Luckily it was empty this time, metal clattering against the hard tile of the kitchen.
“I don’t think so,” said Hollen, lowering his voice as he bent to retrieve it. There was a small dent in the corner, pressed into the immaculately designed surface.
“George?” asked Sean as Hollen stood, grinning as he grabbed a dozen more loaf pans to fill. “You have to tell that guy to give you a break.”
Hollen chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “He certainly has his opinions, and he doesn’t like Munro very much. Sorry, Munro.”
Munro was staring at him, his gaze narrowed.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to dent the tray. I was doing so good, too.” Hollen gently set it into the suds. They were still warm, but not hot, the dishes piling high within. The person who had been working on the dishes earlier in the evening had disappeared about an hour before, and they were starting to stockpile.
“I think my first full day is going okay.” Hollen forced a smile onto his face.
Sean nodded. “From what I’ve seen, we’re happy to have you.”
He cracked a yawn, swaying where he stood. With all the excitement and whatever was going on with Munro, he hadn’t slept much. Most nights he barely did, anyway. George had a way of keeping him awake with ramblings about the past.
The tray tilted in the suds as he stumbled, blinking hazily as he tried to get his focus back. “I used to be able to stay up for two days in a row.” He yawned again, his jaw creaking from the angle. Lately, he’d barely made it through the day without the need to pass out somewhere.
Munro shifted, a frown tugging at his lips. “You’re tired. If you aren’t able to continue—”
“Give the kid a break, boss,” said Sean, cutting Munro off. “It’s his first full shift, and it’s midnight. His bedtime is probably nine o’clock.” Lining up the bread pans, he finished the last of them, covering the whole array with a massive towel.
“Sorry.” Hollen rubbed the back of his head, suppressing the next yawn. “I’m not used to being up so late. Give me a couple days, and it won’t be a problem. I promise.”
Sean nodded. “I had a hard time, too. I’m usually here mid-afternoon to start prepping, and sometimes I’m still here mid-morning. It takes some getting used to.” He jerked his chin at Munro. “Not like these guys, who only need a couple hours sleep. They’d work us all to the bone if we didn’t remind them we’re mortal.”
“I was going to offer that you could have a rest in my chambers.” Munro crossed his arms, his gaze steady. “I can help the others finish tonight, and I’ll come wake you when everyone is gone. It’s not out of my way to walk you home again.”
The kitchen was so silent that Hollen could almost hear the yeast rising in the bread pans. He could feel Sean staring at him, his gaze almost heavier than Munro’s. A flush rose to Hollen’s cheeks as Sean raised one brow.
“That sounds really nice, actually.” Hollen flushed hotter, unable to ignore the low whistle Sean let out. “Let me just take out this last tray, then I’m ready.”
He was in and out of the dining room in seconds, doing his best not to look at Sean before following Munro down the hall with the flickering lights. The humidity of the kitchen gave way to pure heat as Hollen shuffled after Munro, sweat breaking out over his skin.
He couldn’t imagine working as hard as Sean in this heat, already overwhelmed when he’d just been walking around with trays all night.
He glanced at Munro. He seemed completely unaffected by the temperature, his movements smooth and even as they made their way down the hall. There was no dread this time as he passed the flickering lights, only a twisting in his gut of pure anticipation as they went into the darkness.
Is he going to kiss me again? It was almost all he’d been able to think about since Munro had escorted him home like a pure gentleman, wishing him goodnight with no pressure for a repeat kiss, even with as much as Hollen had longed for it.
“Don’t interrupt this time,” said Hollen, whispering softly so hopefully George would know the words were just for him.
The demon in his head grumbled. “ Someday you’ll listen to me. Remind me to tell you I told you so when that happens. ” The heavy sigh echoed in his thoughts. “ Just don’t do anything stupid .”
With that, George faded to the very depths inside that Hollen could barely sense. Hollen rubbed at his chest where George seemed to nestle right next to his heart, the pounding beat of him reduced to a tremor. “Better.”
He wasn’t sure how a demon with such a presence could shrivel up to almost nothing at will.
Walking through the throne room again was surreal. That freezing cold table was still right in the center of it all, black stone seeming to suck the heat from the room with a strange pull that tugged directly at his chest. George grumbled, shifting lower and settling into Hollen’s gut, where he was so much easier to ignore.
With the dining room filled to the maximum upstairs, the room below was left empty, the only sounds their footsteps and the heating vents that seemed to blast down here more than anywhere else in the building. Hollen wiped his forehead as sweat beaded there. How does everyone stand it?
George’s soft whisper answered his thoughts. “ They’re almost cold-blooded. If they get too cold, they’ll slow down until they eventually stop, frozen in position for eternity .”
Hollen bit his lip, pressing a soft “shut up” into his palm.
Munro looked over his shoulder, raising one brow at Hollen. “Is something bothering you?” He paused, a few steps shy of the door that led to his bedroom. It was beyond the chair that seemed lethal, lined with antlers with tips sharpened and dipped in silver. “Or have I made you uncomfortable?”
“No…I—”
“Perhaps I could escort you home instead.” Munro nodded. “Forgive me, I shouldn’t have presumed.”
“Stop.” Hollen reached for him, grasping Munro’s wrist. Instead of the cool skin he expected, Munro was warm, only the tips of his fingers slightly cooler. “Please. I want to stay.”
Munro curled his lips into a smile, the light of it reaching his eyes. When he wasn’t scowling or frowning, his eyes almost seemed to glow, the ice giving way to exotic beauty. He reached for the door, turning the knob and pushing it to reveal his bedroom.
“Do you remember where everything is?”
Hollen nodded. There wasn’t much to the room except a bathroom, a closet, and the bed. It was the bed he was focused on, anyway. The sheets were the same ones he’d woken up in, the color burned into his memory. They still smelled like tea, too, the scent that was getting closer to desire for his senses.
“You’re welcome to get changed into something more comfortable,” said Munro, motioning to a closed door that Hollen knew led to the closet as soon as they entered. “Or undress, if you prefer.”
Munro’s gaze was steady and piercing, his focus completely on Hollen’s hands as he fiddled with the top button of his shirt. It was almost as if he could see through the thin cloth and straight to the vulnerability underneath.
“Okay.” Hollen’s hands trembled as he untucked the waist of his shirt, showing off a quick glimpse of skin before he tugged the hem low. Munro had seen him naked, stripped of everything, including his boxers, but this was different. The last time, Munro had been trying to save him—warming him up the best he could. Now Hollen was practically stripping for him, his heart beating fast.
There wasn’t a drop of fear in his body. That was long gone and buried right next to his desire to listen to George. Just this one time on his own—that was all he was asking for. Any other time, he could put George first.
Hollen paused, his fingers resting on the white button at the collar of his shirt. It was nearly stifling with his desire to get naked. “Wait. What’s your policy on sleeping with coworkers?”
He’d been fired for less before, and this really was too good of a job to pass up. If Munro let him go for breaking the rules, he would be back where he started or worse.
He swallowed, his throat sticking. Or maybe he was reading this all wrong. Last time was simply to help him, and the kiss had been completely accidental.
“Is that what we’re going to do?” asked Munro, suddenly right in front of him. His hand replaced Hollen’s, parting the top two buttons with a gentle tug. “I thought you came down here to rest.”
His voice was so low it sent a shiver straight to his toes, crushing his worries into nothingness. He was sure Munro could talk to people over the phone and give them instant orgasms if he used that tone. And although he was gentle, there was an absolute order threaded through it. If he asked Hollen to strip and bend over the bed, he would have done it in a heartbeat.
“I’m not really tired anymore.” Hollen grinned, touching Munro’s wrists as his heart raced. It was an utter lie. The edge of adrenaline was the only thing keeping his eyes open. He couldn’t recall the last time he was so exhausted, including when he’d come down with a wicked case of the flu.
“Hmm.” Munro touched the bare patch of skin between the parted layers of his shirt. “What will we do about that?” He trailed his finger upward, glancing over Hollen’s pulse before settling on his chin. The brief pause was almost imperceptible.
He still seemed to be hesitant—probably waiting for some cue from Hollen.
“I always sleep better after physical activity,” said Hollen, sucking in a breath as Munro stroked his thumb along his chin. “I could try a walk, or run up some stairs as fast as I—”
Munro cut him off, pressing their lips together. Hollen instantly sagged into the kiss, letting out a gasp of pure exhilaration.
Yes. Hollen let out a sigh. When he parted his lips, Munro took the lead, delving inside his mouth and spreading his taste. The man must’ve lived off tea, because it was in every stroke of his tongue, the sweet spiciness pushing a groan through Hollen’s lips.
The sluggish, tired thoughts drained from his limbs, his nerves tingling into absolute awareness. Months without kisses were a memory, because now there was a beautiful man focused solely on him. He didn’t care if that same man probably wanted nothing more than to bite him. If Munro really wanted to hurt him, he’d had plenty of opportunities.
Throwing his arms around Munro’s neck, he deepened the kiss, pouring his longing into the touch. He pressed his chest to Munro’s, getting as close as he could—but it still felt too far. The urge to throw himself into something dangerous was undeniable, the need burning through his veins as his lungs longed for air.
“Are you tired?” asked Munro, slipping his hands beneath Hollen’s shirt as he broke their connection. His hands were cool compared to the warmth of the air and Hollen’s skin, grounding him in the moment.
“No.” Hollen forced the word through his lips before dragging Munro close again. Something had to be wrong with his brain to want someone so much, especially someone who was probably older than he could have imagined and had some strange ideas about human rights.
“Are you?” Hollen asked, drawing back for a breath. Munro’s face was bright, his eyes laser-focused without an ounce of sleepiness. “If you aren’t up to this—.”
Munro cut him off, closing the distance with a sharpness this time that made his lips ache. His touch was fierce as he crowded Hollen closer to the bed, the scent and taste of tea nearly overwhelming.
The back of Hollen’s knees hit the soft mattress, and he collapsed back, dragging Munro with him with a hold on his neck. He landed with an oof as Munro followed behind, bracing his weight so he didn’t crush Hollen. Hollen parted his legs and Munro eased between them, the sudden pressure against his cock curling his toes.
“Are you excited?” asked Munro, dragging his lips over his ear and nipping at the soft skin. “I can feel you pulsing—throbbing. You can’t wait for me to touch you.” His hands were at Hollen’s waist, squeezing and caressing. “Tell me how much you want this.”
Yes, yes, yes, hell yes. Hollen struggled to hold back the low moan that rose in his throat. It was rare to find a man who knew how to talk to him. Most seemed to think that he liked being tossed around or to be called ‘Daddy’s little slut’, when all he wanted was to be a little desperate.
“I—I want it.” Hollen groaned, bucking his hips as he tensed his thighs. His crisp white uniform pants weren’t made for something like this, straining at the seams until he was sure they would tear. Munro was broad enough that he was spread wide and throbbing directly against that seam.
“Cute.” Munro ducked lower, kissing Hollen once on his neck before shuddering and moving lower. “You taste so sweet.” His voice was much deeper now, thick and threaded with lust. It made Hollen want to twist and whimper, but Munro was everywhere, moving his hands and lips to uncharted areas.
“Of course.” Hollen reached for the hem of his shirt, flushing as Munro tracked him with his gaze. Instead of undoing each button, he tugged at the bottom, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the side.
Munro leaned back, seeming to take his fill from looking alone. His gaze wandered, pausing at each dusky nipple before moving on. It was insane to imagine what those lips would feel like on him, following his eyes with nipping teeth at his skin.
When Munro settled his weight back, the sensation against his bare flesh was breathtaking. Hollen bit his lip, fluttering his eyes just to feel. “You feel good.”
He didn’t just mean the sweet pressure against his cock. Munro’s weight on him was that perfect slice of heaven. He was pinned and helpless, cool hands and a wet mouth everywhere except where he really needed it. His control was slipping in a way that only happened when he was so close to the edge that all meaning ceased to exist except heat and pleasure.
Hollen opened his eyes, catching Munro’s gaze with absolute purpose. “Will you fuck me if I ask you to?”
He needed it more than a job and a friend. As Munro deepened his touch, dragging his hands over Hollen’s chest as certainty hardened into pure fascination. They barely knew each other, but Munro played him so well, knowing exactly where to touch and how hard.
Munro growled, dipping to Hollen’s chest and dragging a flat tongue over one nub. “That depends on how nicely you ask.” He drew back just long enough to watch Hollen’s reaction before he dove in again.
Hollen arched, digging his nails into Munro’s shoulder where he was holding tight. If he let go, there was a chance that he would slip away or even fall asleep, ruining his chances for good.
Another lick and he curled his toes, leaning into the touch. It was all tongue and pressure without the bite of teeth he’d expected. There was more to be had, even if Munro thought he needed to hold back. As far as Hollen knew, this would be the only time, and there was no way he was ignoring the yearning.
“You— You can nibble a bit if you want.” Hollen stuttered as Munro caught his gaze with a dark look. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind if you bite me a bit. Just try not to break skin.”
Bite me a bit? Hollen struggled not to facepalm. Obviously, the blood had drained from his head, leaving nothing but lust behind. If George heard him, he would have a fit. Don’t think about George. Not right now.
Munro shook his head in disbelief, his eyes blown black. “My teeth are too sharp.” He curled the corner of his lip. The canines were massive, stretching past the crowns of his bottom teeth into wicked points. It was a wonder he didn’t cut his lips constantly. Or maybe he did, and he had the healing powers the movies and books talked about.
The saliva he’d left on Hollen’s skin seemed to tingle, the fine hairs standing at attention until they were wetted again. “One slip, and…” Munro trailed off.
Hollen sagged, trying to fight against the thick disappointment. “Oh.”
Munro dipped his head, giving his other nipple the same treatment, even going so far as to suck until the drag pulled a grunt from between Hollen’s lips. It was so damn good, but Hollen could see the lines at the corners of Munro’s eyes and the set of his jaw when he had to pull away.
The realization crashed over him in a surge that went straight to his gut. “You’re afraid to bite me.” He bucked his hips as Munro stroked his side, burning for relief.
“No.” Munro shook his head, placing a kiss on his nipple before surging up to meet Hollen’s lips. Once Hollen was aching for air, Munro moved to his ear, whispering over his skin. “I’m going to bite you, but I’m waiting for you to beg me for it.”
Hollen bit his lip as prickling broke over his skin. He couldn’t imagine someone begging for those sharp points to dig into their skin until they broke through. It had to hurt—even if the edge of pain was almost pleasant when he was this hard.
He shook his head. “I won’t.”
Hollen gasped as Munro dipped and sucked his nipple into his mouth, bypassing his neck completely. They ached, pounding from the repeated assault. He grabbed at Munro’s hair, digging his nails between the strands. There was the tiniest scrape of something sharper, a yelp pushing through his lips.
Munro moved to his other nipple with one last lick. “I love your confidence.” He was fluid as he grasped it roughly between his lips, the sensation nearly torture.
“Ah.” Hollen parted his lip. There it was—that bit of ache that always went best with the peak of pleasure right before he came. He was already getting close, still retrained by thin fabric that gave everything away. There was an obvious wet spot that Munro was ignoring, focused on his chest alone.
“Touch me.” Hollen threw his head back. “I want you to… please .”
*****
Munro
He could almost taste the blood beneath Hollen’s skin, trapped below a thin layer with its sweetness beckoning. Every pulse—every thump had him spiraling closer to the edge of his restraint, until he was sucking each of Hollen’s nipples into his mouth while wishing they were something else.
They hardened beneath his tongue, flushing bright as he lapped hard enough to have the blood blooming beneath the very surface in a tempting spider web that he wished would catch him. Still, he went harder, leaving so little room for pleasure when his torture was nearing completion.
Hollen moaned and bucked, seemingly unaware of the struggle Munro was facing. He had been completely truthful. He’d never kissed someone before he bit them. Sure, a few of the people he’d fed from in the past had gotten close to him, sneaking their way into his bed before they inevitably moved on in one way or another.
But it had always been about the succulent sustenance pumping through their veins, not their hair or eyes or their quick wit. Lust was a natural side effect with feeding sometimes, even if it faded after every exposure. Nothing was ever quite like the first hit that was warmth and ecstasy entwined.
But now he was holding himself back and doing everything in his power not to bite into Hollen’s neck and end him as a river across his bed sheets. A few drops would sustain him, but would he be able to stop? Even now he could barely restrain himself without the copper liquid flowing down his throat.
“Touch me.” Hollen grabbed at him as he pleaded for a second time, guiding Munro’s hand until he was skimming the top of his uniform pants. His fingertips touched warm skin that was flushed and overwhelmed.
Usually, he took such pride in the white uniforms as the only things that were spotless and neat in his world of chaos and revolution. But it was keeping secrets from him now that he had only caught glimpses of before.
The fabric ripped under his hands easier than tissue paper, the extra layer of Hollen’s boxers offering only a slight resistance before it gave way with an elastic snap .
Hollen squeaked beneath him, opening his eyes wide. That flush on his cheeks darkened before he covered himself with his hands, his cock poking out between his clasped fingers.
Things had changed over centuries, but there was still nothing better than a nice cock that was hard, wet, and wanting, as its owner squirmed. Hollen was perfectly curved and flushed, the tip nearly purple where it poked through. His balls hung loose and soft between his parted legs, nearly as flushed as his cock.
“Let me see.” Munro was surprised at how gentle his own voice came out—a dark request when he was burning for more. Hollen dipped his head before slowly peeling his hands back, seeming to look anywhere except at Munro.
Staring for days wasn’t an option, especially when Munro couldn’t keep his lips to himself for long. He took a risk, kissing Hollen’s neck and letting out a shudder that was stronger than the last.
Saliva flooded his mouth, his stomach growling as if hadn’t eaten for weeks. He could imagine how it would flow over his tongue—hot, tangy, and filled with the saltiness of lust. It would be all the better when the pleasure hit Hollen, and he came with Munro’s teeth digging deep into him—penetrating him more intimately than he had ever experienced.
“I want it.” Hollen grasped the back of Munro’s head, gently tugging his hair. “I know you won’t hurt me. Please. I want it.”
How can I resist that? Munro trembled, fighting against instinct and longing. He’d destroyed empires before and had felt the same power surging under his skin with single-minded focus.
He tossed it all to the side, kissing Hollen’s neck softly before dipping back to renew the assault on his nipples. Hollen gripped the bed with one hand and Munro’s hair with the other as he let out a broken moan.
“You said you would if I begged.” He cried out, jerking Munro’s hair at a particularly hard suck. “I’m begging you. Please bite me. I want to know how I taste.”
Munro took in a deep breath, filling his lungs and pressing his forehead against Hollen’s chest. I’m not that strong. Any other vampire would have given in three times by now.
“You aren’t desperate enough,” said Munro, his voice thick as a string of saliva rushed from his mouth. Licking his lips, he focused on another goal before he could let himself be distracted again. Sometimes sex could be just as fulfilling as a meal. I’ll just keep telling myself that.
Grabbing Hollen’s leg, he jerked him closer before spreading his thighs. Hollen squirmed as Munro settled in between, trailing his hands closer and closer to the center before pausing just short of the prize. Hollen’s cock twitched as Munro breathed over the tip, mesmerized by white against pink.
Hollen let out a loud curse as Munro lowered his head, licking the slit of his cock for the first time. Thick saltiness bloomed over his tastebuds, his jaw aching as he reacted to it. It was strange how similar cum tasted to blood, only missing that metallic edge to it that gave Munro life.
He sucked in a breath, turning his head to the side before he was overwhelmed. He was treading the thin line of control, but Hollen was winning.
“I…” Munro shook his head, closing his eyes. Hollen was all he could taste, touch, and smell, every sense saturated with him. He was starving.
His control snapped, and he surged ahead, taking Hollen’s cock to the base. It took a conscious effort not to drag his teeth over the delicate skin, instead swallowing over and over to try to wring Hollen dry. Cum would have to do, Hollen’s blood staying locked away.
“Oh, Jesus. Oh fuck.” Hollen writhed, bucking his hips as if trying to convince Munro to take him deeper. It wasn’t possible, Munro’s nose pressed to Hollen’s belly as he dragged in his scent.
A smile touched his lips as Hollen throbbed against his tongue. Munro had had a lot of practice sucking cock over the years, and his gag reflex hadn’t bothered him in centuries.
He amped up the suction, his mouth aching as fresh saltiness pooled on his tongue. It spread, soaking into him as his teeth ached . He swallowed it down with the rest, goosebumps breaking over his skin.
Hollen tugged his hair after a particularly strong suck. “Fuck me. Fuck me. I want to come with you inside me.” The chant left Hollen’s lips over and over, his voice pitching higher when Munro didn’t pause his assault. He couldn’t.
With a loud cry, Hollen spilled over, his muscles snapping tight as he lost control. Munro drank him down, pulling back only enough to let the taste spill over his tongue and linger there. He couldn’t stop his growl as Hollen eventually wound down, letting out loud cries of overstimulation when Munro didn’t stop.
Calm down.
“Ah. Ah. Too much.” There were tears in Hollen’s eyes, dripping past his lashes to the bed. The wetness of them soaked the air, and Munro finally relaxed, letting Hollen’s swollen cock slip from his mouth. A moment later he surged up, licking the fresh tears from his skin. They were delicious but did nothing to sate the yearning of his belly, a painful twist jabbing him in the center.
His skin prickled, power surging through him as Hollen whimpered, pulling at Munro’s clothes with his hands shaped into desperate claws.
“Please bite me,” said Hollen. He must’ve been high on lust, his body sated once but far from done. His swollen cock had softened, but it hadn’t shrunk at all, hopefully ready for another round before long.
“No.” Munro shook his head. He was just as drunk, so close to biting his own lip just for the taste. “But I will fuck you.”
He spat on his fingers, reaching between Hollen’s cheeks to touch his hole for the first time. Slick and lubricant had evolved over the centuries, but he’d always preferred the perfection of his saliva. It had a few compounds within it, some of his lovers telling him how it made their skin tingle and prickle, enhancing every touch.
Hollen was so soft and smooth, his tiny entrance stretching even to swallow one of Munro’s fingers. The pressure and heat were intense as Hollen arched his back, crying out as Munro slid to the first knuckle. He paused there, panting open-mouthed as his cock gave a distant pang. It had been so easy to ignore up until that moment that he’d barely noticed just how hard he was.
“Are you a virgin?” asked Munro, curling his finger and pressing hard against Hollen’s prostate. Hollen’s voice cracked as he moaned loud, nearly ripping Munro’s shirt with the force that he held on.
Hollen shook his head, biting his lip and probably attempting to keep his cries to himself. Now that won’t do.
With a second finger, Munro pushed hard into his spot, until Hollen couldn’t help but yelp. He’d never been gentle, especially when he was so close to losing control.
“It’s been a while,” said Hollen, breathless. “I can’t with George around.”
Munro narrowed his eyes as he fucked his fingers in and out. There was that name again. George. Whoever he was, Munro was going to rip him limb from limb for intruding in his world and daring to corrupt Hollen.
But now was not the time to think about murder.
With three fingers now inside, Munro used his free hand to release his cock from his pants that had grown uncomfortably tight. He sprang free as soon as his zipper was out of the way, flushed and just as ready as Hollen was.
“Lube.” Hollen looked down, his eyes going wide at the sight of Munro.
Granted, he was a bit bigger than most men he’d encountered, but he didn’t exactly have lube floating around. The closest thing was probably cooking oil, which wasn’t anywhere in reach. Rhys had been his most recent partner, and he always preferred things a little more raw.
“I don’t have any.” As he said it, Munro leaned back on his heels, withdrawing his hand before grabbing Hollen by the hips and tugging him. He urged him higher and higher until his mouth had perfect access to his sweet hole.
Hollen yelled as Munro licked his entrance for the first time, letting his pooling saliva soak against his rim. It flowed straight into him, with the position of Hollen’s shoulders against the bed and his hips in the air supported by Munro alone.
Hollen was hard again, his cock flushed and twitching as Munro licked his way inside, sucking at his rim and swirling his tongue. He couldn’t quite reach his prostate, but he did his best, getting as deep as possible as Hollen squirmed.
The sounds Hollen made were an orchestra, the uncontrolled yells and moans that were deeper than his small body should have been able to produce. When he whimpered, it was high in a begging plead. Absolute music.
“I’m good. Please, please.” Hollen covered his face with his hands, but Munro could still see the burning red through the cracks. It was gorgeous and so much better than what he had pictured from Hollen when he’d first strolled through the door with his hackles up. If he had known, Munro wouldn’t have waited nearly this long.
In one swift move, Munro lowered Hollen’s hips until his own cock lined up with that slick entrance that was just begging to welcome him inside. He only had to nudge his hips and bring Hollen a tad closer, before the blunt head of his cock pushed through the last of the resistance and slipped inside.
Hollen let out a loud gasp, freezing as Munro squeezed the first few inches in. He was incredibly tight, the warmth of his body greater than his own, with sweat dripping to the sheets. And with the slickness of his own saliva, it was absolutely perfect.
Munro waited until Hollen nodded before he eased another inch or two inside, each cue pushing him deeper to the core. The pressure was nearly overwhelming, an ache to it that nearly hurt. When he was buried all the way in at last, with Hollen’s arms wrapped around his neck, the urge to bite slammed into him at full force.
He had no control over his own limbs as he grasped Hollen’s hand, bringing his wrist to his mouth. Hollen’s pulse was pounding, the beat throbbing against Munro’s lips as he curled them back over his teeth, exposing the sharpness to delicate skin.
“Do it.” Hollen breathed out, his gaze heavy. It was an order more than a request, an anxious warning threaded into it. Do it, or I’ll make you.
He couldn’t hold back.
Munro bit down, piercing through the thin skin of Hollen’s wrist to the small veins beneath. His teeth popped through the vessels, blood rushing into his mouth with the full force of a heartbeat.
At the first hint of carnal sweetness, he was lost.
His thoughts clouded over, his own blood rushing through his ears as his focus narrowed to the two jagged holes in Hollen’s skin. When he swallowed, the warmth that rushed down his throat with sticky sweetness was more intense than Hollen clamping down on him, throwing his head back in what could only have been ecstasy.
Munro’s hips moved on their own as he buried himself deeper, caging Hollen against the mattress and pinning him on his cock. There was nowhere for Hollen to escape to as Munro’s mouth filled, slower than the first time but filling all the same, stretching the emptiness of his stomach as it settled there.
Almost without thought, he drove into Hollen, fucking him into the mattress with abandon. He barely had the presence of mind to aim for his prostate, knowing he found it when Hollen came again with a loud cry. At the smell of his cum, Munro growled, sucking down another mouthful of blood.
It prickled his throat, swelling with warmth as it spread from his gut to his limbs. It was too much, energy sparking over his skin as he swallowed again, his body buzzing with the sheer force of it. His heart raced, his cock absolutely throbbing as he tried to gasp in a breath, drowning in sweetness and power.
Something was so, so wrong. It wasn’t normal—wasn’t human to be this good and powerless at the same time.
Munro pulled back as Hollen went limp, his voice failing him at the moment his body went still. His wrist was bleeding, four oozing holes from Munro’s bite quickly healing as Munro’s saliva knitted the flesh together. He would have four spots left that would look a lot like bug bites until they fully healed, but it was better than what a young vampire would leave behind.
Hollen’s eyes were closed, his face relaxed and his lips parted as he breathed slow and deep. The flush to his skin had disappeared, leaving only a slight paleness to his cheeks that were beaded with sweat.
“Hollen?” Munro had lost himself, but he’d only taken a few mouthfuls—barely more than a nurse would take for testing. It must’ve hit Hollen hard enough to knock him into sleep, as if Munro had nearly drained him.
Munro looked down as his cock ached with a fresh wave of sensitivity. He’d come at some point that he couldn’t remember, but he was still inside, with Hollen’s grip on him quickly becoming too much. He hissed as he withdrew, smoothing the furrow on Hollen’s forehead with his lips as it formed.
He kissed Hollen’s cheek next, lips against clammy skin. “Are you okay?”
Hollen didn’t answer, his eyelids only fluttering a bit as Munro wiped him gently with the corner of the bedsheet. It was ruined, one corner actually torn from their coupling. With a soft smile, he wiped Hollen clean with it, careful to get every trace before it could dry.
His skin was paler than it had been, but perhaps it was because he needed sleep so badly. Munro had watched him fade as the shift wore on, until he was stumbling over his own feet and threatening every set of expensive dishware.
With his eyes closed, he looked like an angel—and not one of the ones who were always bent on destruction. He was peaceful and soft in a way Munro had never seen. “There’s so much about you I don’t know.”
He touched Hollen’s lips with his thumb. “I know what you taste like, but what do you like? What are your interests and passions?” Hollen parted his lips in sleep, and Munro slipped his thumb inside before he could stop himself. “What do you want most in the world?”
The temptation to pull the soiled sheets over them both and close his eyes was monumental. It took every bit of his effort to slip from the bed, righting his clothes before moving out the door. He looked over his shoulder, cleaning the last of the blood from his lips with his tongue. “Goodnight.”