Chapter 1 Warren #2
“You’ve done this before?” he finally asked.
Relieved that the inspection was over, Warren nodded. “Yes. You’re my second client.”
Warren’s first client had been Susan, a thoroughly modern vampire lady who lived in a condo in a town about an hour away from Spellerview.
He’d been disappointed when the agency terminated their contract, but he’d known it was coming.
Three years was the longest you could work with the same client before weird stuff started happening.
“You’re my first… meal delivery service?” Hill said, tilting his head down and looking at him from under his long eyelashes. “Is that the right word?”
“Donation,” Warren corrected. The term didn’t make sense, since he was getting paid an exorbitant sum to make himself available on a twice-a-week basis, but it was what the agency called it.
Hill nodded and patted his knee.
“All right, kneel here. I want to look at you.”
Warren stayed put, not sure he’d heard correctly.
Hill narrowed his eyes.
“Here?” Warren asked, taking a little step forward.
Hill nodded and patted his knee again.
Warren walked another step forward and sank to his knees with an ungraceful little stumble, blushing so hard that his face hurt as he shuffled the last step into place next to Hill’s leg.
Unsure of what to do with his hands, he wavered for a moment before clasping them behind his back.
Warren had never felt so submissive in his life.
Keeping his gaze lowered, he stared at Hill’s giant-sized motorcycle boots.
This was nothing like his first appointment with Susan. She’d fed him a cookie and sat down to talk with him like a regular person until he felt at ease. Only then had she gently fed from his wrist.
She hadn’t made him kneel.
Who did that?
Hill moved his boots apart, opening the space between his legs, and held out his hand. He crooked two fingers, beckoning Warren to come closer.
Taking a trembling breath, his stomach swooping, Warren forced himself to move. He crawled into the space between Hill’s powerful thighs, keeping his gaze lowered.
When he glanced up, he couldn’t help but get a brief look at the bulge in Hill’s leather suit.
It looked bigger than before.
Warren tore his gaze away. Looking at Hill’s bulge was not appropriate. Even though sitting between Hill’s thighs felt incredibly sexual, Hill was probably straight and just used to absolute obedience.
The agency had warned him that older vampires could be weird.
“Tell me how this usually works,” Hill ordered, tugging off his gloves and tucking them next to him in the seat. He leaned forward and reached down, the movement startling Warren and making him jerk back.
They both froze.
Hill waited for Warren to move back into place, and when Warren did, he reached for Warren’s chin and tilted his face up, forcing him to make eye contact. He continued as if there had been no interruption. “What do you expect?”
Hill’s fingers were cool, the digits leaching the warmth from Warren’s skin like they were made of metal.
“My last client preferred feeding once a week,” Warren stuttered, completely overwhelmed.
He swallowed and forced himself to continue.
“She had me sit on the sofa next to her, under a blanket, while she fed from my wrist. I usually fell asleep. She’d start an intravenous drip in my arm after she finished to rehydrate me. ”
“Hm.”
Warren shuddered at the noncommittal sound.
“Of course, anything outlined in the contract is acceptable,” he rushed to add. “I don’t have a preference.”
Hill nodded, and before Warren could gird himself, strong hands reached under his arms and Hill hoisted him up on his lap. Warren let out a gasp, startled to find himself straddling Hill’s hard, muscular thighs, his hands twitching as he tried to figure out where to put them.
“No preference at all?” Hill asked, hands on Warren’s waist.
Warren shook his head.
“Well, I prefer this position.” Hill put his hand on Warren’s lower back, pushing him down so that they were pressed front to front. He curled his hand into a fist in Warren’s hair, tilting his head back and exposing his neck. “The wrist is so impersonal.”
Feeding on blood bags was the default option for vampires, and selling his blood at the vampire blood drive was how Warren had gotten involved in the vampire feeding business to begin with. He wondered if that was what Hill had been doing up until now.
“That’s fine,” Warren said, keeping his arms by his sides so that he wouldn’t inadvertently touch somewhere he wasn’t allowed to. He didn’t know if Hill had intended him to respond, but he had to say something.
Hill pressed his face into Warren’s neck, dragging his nose up behind Warren’s ear and breathing in deeply.
“You smell nice,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. The rough vibrations sent shuddering sparks shooting down Warren’s spine. “Very nice.”
“Thank you,” Warren said, not sure what else to say. He was breathing fast, the vampire’s grip on his hair making him feel absolutely controlled and thoroughly dominated.
The feeling intensified when Hill slid his hand down his back and grabbed his ass.
This did not feel like Hill was straight. Warren wondered if he should say something to stop this – to remind Hill of the terms of their contract – but he really didn’t want to.
Warren would never violate the terms of his contract and jeopardize his employment, but he couldn’t bring himself to prevent Hill from doing the same.
“You’re welcome.” Hill squeezed down, groping Warren shamelessly. He nuzzled into Warren’s throat, dragging his mouth under the line of his jaw and biting down. Warren flinched – expecting fangs – but Hill’s teeth were still blunt and Warren’s skin remained unpunctured.
Was Hill kissing him?
Hill licked over the skin he’d just bitten, tongue wet and rough, before sucking it back into his teeth and biting down again.
No, he was giving him a fucking hickey.
Warren found that he didn’t have a problem with that. He closed his eyes, his body going boneless and submissive.
Hill spent the next five minutes licking and marking his neck.
“Are you ready?” Hill released Warren’s throat from his blunted teeth, giving the forming bruise a languid swipe of his tongue.
It took Warren a few seconds to muster up the ability to respond, and he wasn’t entirely sure what he was responding to.
Ready for what?
It felt like they were about to fuck.
This was the point where Warren should say no.
“Yes,” Warren said, his cock pressing against the front of his pants. Whatever Hill was offering, Warren wanted it. “I’m ready.”
Hill didn’t give him any more time to think. He latched onto his throat, fangs dropping and sinking into his skin, and started to feed.
Warren slumped, the familiar sensation of being under a vampire’s thrall washing over him with overwhelming force. There was no pain, just a warmth seeping through his body, the heady sensation making him feel carefree, weightless and horny.
That last part was new.
His hole clenching, Warren whimpered at the sudden overwhelming need to be filled.
The sensation grew with every breath he took, his hole feeling tragically empty, and the fullness of Hill’s massive cock pressing into his stomach was like the cruelest torture.
He could feel it through the layers of Hill’s leather motorcycle suit, hard and perfect, and if he could just manage to free it, maybe he could push it down and somehow find a way to sit on it.
“Greedy.”
Warren froze, his hands coming to a standstill where they’d been pawing ineffectually at Hill’s bulge. He felt like he was waking up from a dream. Seated on Hill’s lap, face pressed into his muscular chest, he had no sense of how much time had passed since Hill had bitten into him.
He didn’t know how long it had been since he had stopped.
“I…”
Warren didn’t know what to say. His face felt hot with the force of his blush, and he was acutely aware of the fact that his palms were resting over Hill’s enormous bulge. His fingers itched to squeeze down, but he was too mortified and embarrassed to give in to the urge.
He felt tiny and ridiculous.
“That’s not a bad thing.” Hill stroked the pad of his thumb over Warren’s bruised throat, the rest of his fingers curving gently around Warren’s neck and pushing him back into his chest. He moved his other hand to Warren’s lower back, splaying his fingers wide and pushing down. “Close your eyes and relax.”
The pressure forced Warren into Hill’s bulge, trapping his arms between their bodies and keeping his hands in place over Hill’s crotch.
Warren stayed tense, though his back yielded to the pressure of Hill’s palm and arched awkwardly.
“Relax,” Hill demanded, his grip on Warren’s neck tightening into a firm squeeze. His voice was firm and warmly amused, and Warren just about melted at the casual domination. “Stop thinking. You were being so good for me a minute ago.”
Warren’s stomach clenched and he shut his eyes. There was nothing he wanted more than to be good for Hill. Taking a deep breath, the smell of leather and a musky cologne filling his nose, he pushed his face into Hill’s chest and rubbed his cheek against the leather-clad pecs.
“That’s it,” Hill said, his grip on Warren’s neck relaxing. He slid his hand down his back, cupping the cheek of Warren’s butt through his jeans. “I’ll take care of you.”
Hill’s voice was hypnotic. Deep and urgent, it felt like every word was reverberating into his very bones.
“Do you want me to make you feel good?”
Warren nodded into Hill’s chest, his cheek coming away wet as he rubbed it over the leather. He realized he’d been drooling, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He felt too good.
He wanted to feel better.
“Please,” he mumbled, groping Hill’s cock through his suit and feeling the impressive length throb under his fingers. “I want…”