Chapter 24 #2
With as much settled as possible, Marcus had gone full caveman, tossing Ethan over his shoulder before climbing the stairs to the master bedroom.
Ethan had protested loudly, but it was largely ruined by his bubbles of laughter.
Marcus was likely going to spend the next couple of hours making sure Ethan understood how important his safety was.
Rafe had slipped away, claiming he needed to locate something.
Philippe could only grunt. He wanted a shower and sleep, but he worried how well that sleep was going to go.
Every time he closed his eyes, images of his dead clan members danced across his brain.
He didn’t know if Ming and Peter were safe.
And he didn’t know if the MacPhersons were torturing Jullien.
The hot shower helped to clear away the clutter in his brain but didn’t make a dent in the tense muscles throbbing and aching in his back and shoulders. Bed and Rafe’s arms, that was all that mattered.
He stepped out of the opulent marble and tile bathroom wearing only a towel. He hadn’t thought to grab any of his things from Arsenault Manor. At one time, most of his world had been in that house. Then he met Rafe Varik, and everything seemed to change.
So much of it for the better.
Only when Jullien was safe and Ezra dealt with would he be able to feel free. He wanted to find Ming and Peter again, but he wasn’t going to ask them to come back to him. Could they trust him to keep them safe? Was that what they wanted anymore?
Stepping into the bedroom, he found Rafe seated in one of the comfortable chairs arranged diagonally to the bed. In his lap was a violin.
“How did you get your violin? It’s daylight.”
Rafe smirked. “What you’re going to learn with me is that I have many, many violins.”
“Because of your mother.”
Rafe nodded, his fingers stroking over the glossy veneer of the instrument. “I tend to keep my least favorites at my brothers’. In case something were to happen to them. But this one, it’s a good one. Had it for about fifty years, I think.”
“Does it help you to relax?”
Rafe’s smile turned into something wicked as his gaze slowly traveled down Philippe’s body. “Well, nothing relaxes me quite like you in that towel. Except for maybe you out of that towel.”
Philippe lifted his hand to where the end of the towel was tucked in, holding it in place. “I can remove the towel.”
“Take off the towel, baby, and get into bed. Let me play you to sleep.”
And to Philippe’s surprise, he couldn’t imagine anything else sounding more heavenly.
Turning toward the bathroom, Philippe stripped off the damp towel, tossed it onto the tile floor, and walked to the bed.
There was a wonderful caress over his body from Rafe’s hot gaze as he crossed the room and climbed between the cool, heavy blankets.
Before his head even touched the pillow, a low forlorn note cried out from the violin.
It was like Rafe and his instrument were weeping for the dead Arsenaults.
Philippe closed his eyes and let the music wrap around him.
Here and there, his brain tried to identify the song, but the thoughts drifted away, carried on one melancholy note after another.
As his breathing evened out and he drew closer to sleep, the playing ended. Some distant part of his brain listened to Rafe setting the violin and bow on the nearby dresser. There was a whisper of fabric rubbing and clink of a belt buckle as he undressed.
The bed shifted behind Philippe and he sighed as Rafe’s arm wrapped around him, hot flesh pressing against his own.
Philippe’s brain remained foggy, but his body perked up with new demands.
His heart ached, but Rafe’s touch was as healing as his playing.
Philippe shifted in the bed, pushing his ass into Rafe’s groin so his hardening dick rubbed perfectly along his crease.
Rafe moaned in his ear and an arm tightened around his waist, trying to hold him still. “Please, mon ange. You need your rest, and I am a very weak man where you are concerned.”
“Do you think we’re lucky enough to have your brother provide us with everything we need?”
“Marcus? No, he’s an evil fuck when he wants to be.
But Ethan?” Rafe huffed a low laugh in Philippe’s ear.
“Yes, that horny little sex kitten probably has lube stashed all over the house for him and Marcus.” A little shudder ran through Rafe’s body, causing the rough hairs on his legs to wonderfully rasp against Philippe’s. “I do not want to think about that.”
Philippe shifted again, pressing closer while releasing a little moan as if tapping his own inner sex kitten. “Please, Rafe. I need you.”
Philippe’s toes curled at the growl rumbling up Rafe’s throat.
Rafe slid the hand resting on Philippe’s chest down and wrapped his fingers around Philippe’s straining cock, pulling a gasp from his throat.
Rafe stroked him twice and released him.
Philippe moaned and started to thrust when Rafe held up the hand in front of Philippe’s face.
“Lick it. Get it good and wet,” Rafe ordered.
Philippe pulled the large hand closer and stroked the flat of his tongue across the palm, tasting Rafe.
Hungry noises rumbled up Rafe’s throat, and he thrust his hips against Philippe’s ass.
Pre-cum was starting to leak from the head, making each rub slicker than the last. Philippe sucked one finger after another into his mouth, slowly bathing each with his tongue while listening to the harsh pants leave Rafe.
When it seemed Rafe could take no more, he pulled his hand away and wrapped it around Philippe’s dick again. The damp slide of his hot grasp had Philippe’s hips jerking forward so he could fuck Rafe’s hand.
“I can get you off just like this,” Rafe promised in a low voice. “It probably wouldn’t take more than a few strokes, you’re already so hard in my hand.”
“Oh God, Rafe! No! Please, I want you to fuck me.” He whimpered against the wonderful pleasure streaking through his body.
Rafe was right. He would so easily get him off this way, but Philippe wanted to feel Rafe moving inside of him, the wonderful weight of his larger body pressing him down into the mattress.
As if feeling just how close he was, Rafe clamped his fingers around the base of his cock, staving off the orgasm while still thrusting slowly against his ass.
“I’m trying to be a good, understanding boyfriend.
One who considers what you’ve been through and lets you get the rest you need.
” The words came out sounding as if Rafe was talking between clenched teeth.
“A good boyfriend would fuck my brains out right now,” Philippe panted.
“Don’t move, or I’ll tie you down and make sure you don’t come until the sun sets again.”
A tiny little whimper escaped Philippe’s throat, but he didn’t move a muscle as Rafe released him.
The bed rocked, followed by the opening and closing of the nightstand drawers.
A pleased sound came from Rafe, but it was the plastic snap of a cap that sent goose bumps popping up along Philippe’s flesh.
The bed rocked again as Rafe returned, but rather than the hot press of his body, cool slick fingers slid along his crease.
They circled his hole, pressing just a little before moving away again, teasing him.
Philippe struggled to hold in all the little noises, struggled to hold perfectly still as he soaked in Rafe’s wonderful touch.
“You’re so perfect,” Rafe whispered. He moved closer so that his chest was touching Philippe’s back again. “I fell for your radiant smile and soft green eyes the first time you looked up at me. I wasn’t sure if it was all a trick. How could anyone look at me with such openness and joy?”
“Rafe.” The single word held all the longing in his heart.
Leaning down, the vampire pressed a kiss to his temple, at the same time pressing one finger inside. “I’ve dreamed of doing this from the second I met you. I want to be inside you, to own this body the way you already own my heart and mind.”
The burn was short and quickly gave way to the most exquisite pleasure. He was lost to the words and sensations Rafe was weaving. Philippe shifted a little, taking more of his finger, and still his body craved more.
“I know, mon ange. I will get you there,” Rafe promised as he added a second finger.
The stretch was slow and methodical. Rafe continued to press little kisses along the side of his face, his shoulder, and down his arm.
Philippe hovered in this strange place of being completely relaxed and painfully strung out.
His cock throbbed and leaked against his stomach.
The long fingers of his growing orgasm picked at his nerves, making his body tingle and ache.
When he was sure he couldn’t take another second, Rafe removed his fingers and grabbed the lube to prep his own dick.
A sigh of relief tripped from Philippe’s lips as the slick, blunt head pushed into his hole, sliding easily past well-stretched muscles.
They both groaned loudly as Rafe entered him in a single, slow thrust. With his balls pressed against Philippe’s ass, Rafe remained perfectly still, allowing Philippe time to adjust to the new fullness.
Oh, fuck. Rafe’s heat, his thickness. It was so intense.
Years had passed since he’d allowed someone inside of his body, and he’d missed it so much.
Rafe had one arm under his head, his hand pressed to his chest, holding him tight.
He’d forced one leg between Philippe’s and was holding them open while his other hand slowly stroked his cock.
Philippe was wrapped in Rafe, so perfectly trapped, and it was a heavenly torture.
Rafe’s movements stayed slow and small at first. Tiny thrusts that were driving them both insane.
But Philippe could feel the trembling and the strain of Rafe’s muscles pressed against his body.
He was trying so damn hard to be a tender, gentle lover, but it wasn’t what Philippe needed.
He wanted to be fucked hard, straight into oblivion.
“Please, Rafe,” he gasped. “Harder. Need you so much harder. Please.”
Muscles bunched for a second, and his only warning was a growl.
Rafe quickly withdrew, and Philippe barely had time to draw the breath to complain when he was roughly shoved flat on his stomach.
Rafe moved behind him, his knees sinking into the thick mattress as rough fingers bit into Philippe’s hips, pulling his ass into the air.
Rafe thrust into him, and Philippe swore he saw stars. Pleasure exploded through him with the slightest bite of pain. Rafe fucked him hard. Babbling, pleading nonsense came out of Philippe’s mouth as the intensity of it all scattered his thoughts to the wind.
Wrapping one fist in his hair, Rafe pulled his head back. “Don’t come. Don’t fucking come until I tell you,” Rafe snarled. His cock swelled in Philippe’s ass, and each thrust pegged his prostate.
“Bite me. Rafe. Bite me now,” Philippe pleaded. He needed that last missing connection between them, to know that his blood was flowing in Rafe’s veins.
Fingers dug into his shoulder, pulling him upright. Rafe slowed his thrusts while brushing his lips across his flesh. He opened his mouth and the tips of his fangs scraped, sending fresh tingles along his nerve endings.
“Is this what you want?” Rafe growled.
“Yes. Please, God, yes.”
Rafe’s fangs sank deep and Philippe screamed as electric pleasure sizzled through his body.
He barely held onto his control as Rafe resumed his hard thrusts.
His lover came with a brutal snarl, sending a rush of hot cum flooding into Philippe.
His body sweaty and shaking, sure he was going to die as his heart finally gave out.
The moment Rafe was finished, he lifted his mouth, withdrew, and slammed Philippe onto his back again.
He was dazed and so fucking needy. But Rafe was there, kneeling over him.
His body was flushed and covered with sweat.
A smear of blood painted his lips. Blue eyes shone with a bright inner light, and his black hair was sticking to his temples and standing out around his head in a dark halo. Never had anyone looked so sexy.
He paused only to lick his lips, then swallowed Philippe’s cock down.
Conscious thought was gone. Philippe wrapped his fingers in that wonderful hair and held him in place as he brutally fucked Rafe’s throat.
It took only a few thrusts before he was shouting and coming.
Rafe swallowed it all, his wonderfully wicked tongue swiping along his length again and again until Philippe shivered.
When the orgasm had finally run its course, Philippe was completely drained. There was nothing left in him. There was only the lingering tingle of pleasure and sated fatigue.
Rafe slowly pulled off his dick and Philippe’s eyelids fluttered open to see Rafe’s smile.
“Better?”
Philippe managed a small nod. He tried to smile, but he couldn’t get his lips to work properly.
It must have been enough, because Rafe chuckled a little.
He straightened out the blankets that had been shoved around the bed, then rearranged Philippe so that he was once again the little spoon to Rafe’s big spoon.
He wasn’t sure if Rafe said anything else; he simply drifted off to sleep wrapped in his arms.
There was no telling what the next night would bring. If any of them would survive it. If he would ever have another chance to drift off to sleep pulled tight against Rafe’s long body. But Philippe knew he would treasure this moment forever.