“You wish to feed, Master?”
Dorian smiled and held out his hand. The young man before him slipped his hand into Dorian’s and Dorian pulled him into the room. As the door shut behind them, muffling the sound of the music from the club below, he led the young man into the bedroom. When he turned, he nodded. The young man removed his clothing with the silent command, and Dorian pulled him close.
“You are so kind to me, Josef,” Dorian said. “Why do you remain when others will not?”
“Because I care for you.”
“Even when I have no love to give you?”
Josef smiled and slid his arms around Dorian’s neck. “You have love, Dorian. You only need to find the one who can bring it out.” He brushed his lips over Dorian’s, taking Dorian’s breath away. “Now, take what you need. All I ask is pleasure in return, as always.”
Something within him resented this, resented using Josef this way. Dorian closed his eyes with the feel of those lips against his own. Yes, he had the capability to love; he did not doubt that. Yet after six hundred years, he wondered if he would ever find someone who would accept what he was, the monster he was. The press of Josef’s body to his was insistent, and it aroused other needs within him as well.
“Please,” Josef murmured. He snaked his tongue over Dorian’s lips.
“Yes.” Dorian backed up towards the bed, pulling Josef with him, never breaking the contact of their bodies. When the backs of his legs touched the bed, he turned and eased Josef down before standing to remove his own clothing.
“You are so beautiful, Dorian.” Josef extended a hand, which Dorian took as he settled between the young man’s legs. “And you will find the one for you.”
Dorian reached over to the bedside table and grabbed the small bottle. He sat back on his heels as he slicked his cock with the gel, watching Josef watching him. He loved seeing the desire in a young man’s eyes, the flush of it as it colored smooth skin. But there was always something missing, something kept just out of his reach. Perhaps it was love he was searching for, eluding him just when his fingertips touched it, only to slip back into the abyss. He wanted to follow it; his desire for the world outside was beginning to wane.
The whispered plea brought his mind back to the matter at hand, so to speak. Josef was beneath him, his body arching to Dorian’s touch. Dorian leaned his head down to brush a soft kiss to Josef’s lips as he positioned his cock. As he slipped his tongue into Josef’s mouth, he pushed with his hips, sinking himself deep inside that luscious heat. Christ, if only it went soul-deep.
Josef panted as Dorian pulled away from their kiss. With one hand by Josef’s head, propping himself up, Dorian began stroking in and out of Josef’s body, watching the pleasure contort Josef’s face into a mask of bliss. He slipped his other hand between their bodies and circled Josef’s cock with it, stroking it to match the thrusts of his hips. Josef’s eyes rolled back as they closed and Dorian felt the young man’s body tighten around him. With a throaty cry, Josef came and Dorian struck swiftly, sinking his fangs deep into Josef’s neck.
With every pull, every life-giving swallow, Dorian extended Josef’s pleasure, knowing the effect was akin to rapture. As Josef bucked wildly beneath him, Dorian growled against his throat, his cock pulsing deep inside Josef’s body as he came. When his own orgasm subsided, he pulled away from Josef’s neck, licking the wounds to close them.
“Damn,” Josef said breathlessly. “I think it gets better with time.”
Dorian nodded and closed his eyes as he rested his head on Josef’s shoulder. At this point in his life–or unlife, as it were–Josef was his last link with sanity. The façade was becoming tiresome.
“You know, you really should find a boyfriend and stop with the brooding.”
Dorian lifted his head and kissed Josef before pulling away. Josef curled up on his side, sated and sleepy. Dorian walked into the bathroom and washed off before slipping his robe on. The black silk felt cool against his still-heated skin and he looked up in the mirror. A pair of cobalt blue eyes stared back at him, from just over his shoulder.
“Why? So you can find something else to nit-pick about whomever I choose?”
There was a touch of dark amusement in those eyes and Dorian shook his head as he turned off the light. He walked out, and felt the presence follow him into the living room.
“There are so many pretty ones down there tonight. You could always go play.”
“Shut up, Lorik.” Dorian picked up the television remote and hit the power button. The evening news flickered on, yet he kept the sound muted, preferring to read the news anchor’s lips. The music from downstairs was much more enjoyable.
“Then get your ancient ass down there and enjoy it already!”
“My ancient ass?” he asked aloud. “And just pray tell who is more ancient? Shall we debate this one again?”
“You’re no fun tonight, Dorian.” There was a pout within those words. Dorian groaned.
“Why? Because I refuse to argue with a disembodied voice?”
A brush of a hand drifted over Dorian’s thigh, pulling away the edge of his robe. It wasn’t often Lorik made himself known, but when he did, things were bound to get interesting. The hand drifted up Dorian’s thigh, slipping between his legs and parting them slowly. He let his head fall back as the caress moved higher to brush over the silk covering his cock. He wasn’t hard, but if Lorik kept this up, he certainly would be.
“You are cruel,” he grumbled.
Lorik chuckled. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. “And you would have me no other way.”
“Don’t you have better things to do than torment a lonely vampire?”
“And where would I go, my dear Dorian? I am tied to you. You know that.”
Dorian grumbled and stood, needing to get away from those ghosting touches. He walked over to the bay window overlooking the dance floor below and sat down. At ten o’clock in the evening, the crowd was already a thriving mass of sweat-slick bodies, gyrating together to the driving rhythm of the music. There was no live band tonight, only the usual house music pumped out of enormous speakers by the man hidden in a dark booth to the left of the dance floor. Dorian scanned the crowd with little more than a passing interest.
“Look at them, Lorik. All so beautiful, but none of them strike me as being…” He sighed and shook his head. “The one.”
“You’re looking too hard, Dorian. Just go down there,” Lorik coaxed. “Go play with them. Dance with them. Touch them and let their essence fill you. You will find the one for you; of that, I have no doubt.”
“I’m tired of waiting,” Dorian muttered. “Six hundred years, and in all that time, you were the only one I ever loved.”
He watched the people continue to file in through the front door, stepping to present identification and pay the cover before stepping into his world. None of them held so much as a spark. Giving up on the game entirely, Dorian started to turn away from the window. Then he stopped.
A young man stood at the front door below, chatting with the woman beside him. The doorman looked him up and down, then handed the young man’s ID card back to him. When the young man turned to face the club, Dorian froze. If he’d had a heart, it would have skipped a beat.
Dark brown hair brushed the man’s shoulders, drawing Dorian’s gaze down a lean, lithe body covered from head to foot in black. His skin was paler than those around him, and when he raised his head to look up towards the dancers on the catwalks, Dorian’s breath caught in his throat. The young man’s green gaze focused sharply on the club surroundings, then drifted slowly around the cavernous room. Dorian shivered when that gaze slid by him. He knew he could not be seen through the two-way mirror, but for the first time since installing it, he wished he could be.
“Ah, yes. Now that is a pretty one. Fine, delicate features. Lithe form. Such luscious lips, made perfect for a kiss. Wouldn’t you agree, Dorian?”
Dorian paid little attention to Lorik’s running commentary. Everything Lorik pointed out, Dorian could see for himself. And how he wanted it. He wanted to touch the sliver of smooth flesh that peeked out from the top of the man’s shirt where it lay open. He wanted to run his fingers over those leather-covered thighs and feel them tighten under his caress. He longed to see those eyes darken with passion as he teased and tantalized him. And he didn’t even know his name.
“I want him.” Dorian looked to his left, knowing Lorik was there, watching him as he watched the young man downstairs. “I must have him.”
“It is not like you to obsess.”
Dorian tore his gaze from the young man and forced himself to walk away from the window. “I am not obsessing.” At the sound of rustling clothes, he walked back to the bedroom. Josef was awake and dressing, but stopped when Dorian stepped into the doorway. “Did you sleep well?”
Josef smiled and finished buttoning his pants before walking over to Dorian to slide his arms around Dorian’s neck. “Oh, yeah.” He licked Dorian’s lips. “But I need to get back downstairs. Steph is probably wondering what happened to me.”
“She knows where you are,” Dorian said with a smile as he slid his arms around Josef’s slim waist.
“Yeah,” Josef said with shrug, “but as her assistant bartender, I kind of have to be there when the crowd starts to become too much to handle.” He kissed Dorian softly and pulled away. “And it looks like they’re already getting to that point,” he said as he stared out the window. “You coming down?”
Dorian shook his head. “Not tonight, I think.”
Josef leaned over to kiss him, then turned and left, closing the door behind him. Dorian looked back down at the dance floor, suddenly wishing he had not. The entrancing sight of the anonymous young man greeted him. Dorian watched him as he danced; his movements easy and fluid, serpentine and sleek. Not until the sharp, coppery taste hit him, did Dorian realize he had been biting his lip. He licked the blood away with an absent swipe of his tongue.
“You want him for more than a casual fuck.”
Dorian nodded slowly. “I do.”
“But you do not know him.”
“I want to.”
“So go down there and meet him, Dorian. Steal a taste of him. It is the only way you will know.”
“Not yet. It’s too soon.”
Dorian groaned before looking up from the book in front of him. He had managed to escape Carl for rest of that night and with dawn quickly approaching, he needed to get finished with the expenses tracking and get to bed. As his manager burst in through his office door, the prospect of sleep didn’t look very likely. Dorian sighed and put down as his pen as he sat back in the chair. He eyed the middle-aged man curiously, as it was unlike Carl to get winded.
Carl plopped down into the wing chair in front of the desk. “We’re completely out of Captain Morgan, and Josef is nowhere to be seen. I swear, when I find that boy, I’ll-”
As if on cue, the missing assistant bartender padded out of the bedroom, shoes in hand and looking thoroughly well-fucked. He had come back up to the apartment during a lull in the crowd, and Dorian had taken full advantage of it. Josef stopped when he saw Carl fuming in the chair. Dorian fought like hell to suppress the grin that wanted out upon seeing his manager’s mouth hang open in disbelief. Josef looked from Dorian to Carl, then back to Dorian.
“Did I miss something?”
Carl snapped his mouth shut and shot Dorian a look that made it clear he was not believing what he was seeing. “Please,” he said as he dropped his head to his hand, “tell me I’m not seeing what I think I’m seeing.”
“What?” Josef said rather defensively as he sat down in another chair to slip on his shoes.
“Please tell me my little brother isn’t fucking his boss,” Carl groaned.
“And if I am?”
“Oh, Christ.” Carl stood abruptly and began pacing. “Have you no sense?”
“Are you regulating my sex life now?” Josef asked him calmly.
Dorian simply sat back and watched the two brothers exchange quips back and forth. The situation was, at best, comical. He knew Carl wouldn’t take too well with Josef’s choice in fuck buddies. Heaven forbid Carl should find out his other aspect aside from being the club’s owner. He watched Carl storm out of the other door of his office, and a few minutes later, the front door of the apartment slammed shut.
“You think he knows?”
Josef looked up after tying his shoes. “What? That we’re fucking? He certainly does now.”
Dorian stood and walked out into the living room. He looked out the window and watched as Carl stacked boxes of lemons in the cooler. It was obvious the man was angry.
“That’s not what I mean,” Dorian said quietly. When he felt a pair of arms encircle him, he leaned back, not taking his eyes off of his manager downstairs.
“He hasn’t shown any indication of suspecting,” Josef said.
As Dorian watched Carl, he wasn’t entirely convinced. Something about the way Carl had looked–no, glared–at him before storming out of the apartment, set Dorian’s nerves on edge. More than usual.
“Are you really worried that he might know?”
Dorian sighed and turned, confident in the knowledge that they could not be seen as he slid his arms around Josef’s neck. “I do not worry for myself,” he said. “I worry more for you. Your brother has a nasty temper about him.”
“Tell me about it,” Josef grumbled with a roll of his eyes. “Look, he’s just being protective.”
Dorian lifted an eyebrow dubiously.
“Okay, overprotective,” Josef corrected himself. He tucked a stray lock of hair behind Dorian’s left ear and smiled. “Just give him some time to cool off. Carl’s an asshole, but he’s not the vindictive type.”
Dorian nodded, having little energy to do much else. The incident with Carl had left his nerves in shambles and he was already growing hungry again. A single finger slipped under his chin, lifting his head to meet Josef’s calm, knowing gaze.
“You didn’t take much before,” Josef said as he tipped his head to the side. “Drink, before you collapse.”
“I can’t.” Dorian shook his head, determined not to rely so heavily on Josef, especially three times in one night.
He looked up and realized he wasn’t going to win this one, simply by the look of determination on Josef’s face. With a defeated sigh, Dorian brushed Josef’s hair back from his neck and leaned into him. A soft sound escaped Josef as Dorian sank his fangs into his throat. The rich liquid ran over his tongue and down his throat, easing both the hunger and the battle on his nerves. He took only enough to dull the ache, then licked the wounds softly to close them.
“I need to get down there and help out before he freaks and comes back up here,” Josef whispered.
Dorian nodded and raised his head for a kiss. When Josef walked out, Dorian turned to look out the window, hoping Carl wouldn’t try to start anything. Carl straightened himself as Josef walked over to the bar. They exchanged a few words, some of which seemed to be not-so-gentle, then Josef shook his head and went about cleaning. Carl watched him for a moment before returning his own work, but not before casting a dark glance up at the two-way mirror.
“Be watchful of that one.”
Dorian nodded, knowing Lorik was right. “I am. I only hired him because of Josef, and now I’m wishing I had not.”
“Probably not your wisest move to date,” the spirit quipped.
“Everyone makes mistakes, Lorik.” Dorian watched the two brothers, finding a bit of dark humor in how different they were from each other. “Everyone holds a regret of some sort.”
“Uh huh. And yet you let the lovely dancing beauty get away…”
“Oh, shut up,” Dorian grumbled.
He turned away from the window and crossed the living room, heading towards the kitchen. He hated drinking from bottles; absolutely hated it. He had only taken a tiny amount from Josef, not wanting to overdo it so soon after their tryst in the bedroom. As he pulled open the refrigerator, he felt the brush of a hand over the small of his back.
“Please, Lorik…not now.”
“I haven’t touched you in so long, Dorian.”
Dorian closed his eyes as the unmistakable sensation of warm breath caressed his neck. It was the least he could do. Dead or no, Lorik was still his Master, and Dorian still held love for him, regardless of the passing of time. He closed the refrigerator and opened the bottle, drinking nearly half of it in one swallow. Behind him, Lorik’s body pressed to his, and the brush of his long-dead Master’s lips over his neck sent chills rippling through Dorian’s body.
He finished the bottle and tossed it into the garbage can before turning around. The ephemeral form of his creator–his Master–watched him with a wistful expression. Dorian reached up, wanting to touch, but his hand passed through Lorik’s body, just as he had expected it would. Lorik, however, could touch him, on many levels. It was a game they played as often as they could, as often as Lorik could. It took a great amount of energy on his part to come into form, and it came with a hefty price. Dorian could no longer kiss him, or touch him.
“Come,” Lorik coaxed softly. “Please. You need this, Dorian. We both need this.”
Dorian put up no resistance. He knew Lorik was right. Hell, Lorik was always right. He allowed himself to be led to the bedroom, then lowered onto the bed. He slid up to the pillows on his back, watching as Lorik crawled across the bed to settle between his legs. He kept his hands locked under his head. It was far more painful to try to touch and not be able to, than to not try at all. As Lorik pulled his pants down and off, Dorian grew hard, simply remembering what his Master had been like in all his former glory.
“Do not think of me,” Lorik murmured as he drifted over Dorian’s body, stopping to push his shirt up. Dorian gasped when the tip of Lorik’s tongue teased over his right nipple. “Think of your dancing beauty; open, slick, his sweet flesh glistening with sweat, the warmth of his mouth, his body.”
Gods. Lorik always did have a way with words–sarcastic one minute, sultry and seductive the next. Dorian closed his eyes, and he did think of his dancing, nameless beauty. The lilting kisses that rained over his chest soon descended; lower and lower, until he felt a dusting of kisses over the length of his cock. He caught his lower lip in his teeth, nicking it with one of his fangs. The blood which spilled over his tongue was a mélange of flavors, each one as unique as the body it came from.
As Lorik’s lips surrounded his cock, Dorian could no longer contain himself. He thrust up, burying his length in his Master’s mouth. Lorik’s thoughts drifted through his mind, bringing back images of the nameless beauty he had seen. And wanted.
“Yes, Dorian,” Lorik purred. “Taste him; imagine his sweet, rich blood as it flows over your tongue. The strength of his thighs as his legs wrap around you, pulling you deeper inside his body.”
“Oh, gods…” Dorian’s breathing grew labored and he lifted his head to watch Lorik. For him, Lorik did what no one else ever would. As Lorik’s slick finger entered him, Dorian was mesmerized as his Master’s form gave way to that of his nameless dancing beauty.
When a green gaze fell on him and Lorik’s finger twisted inside him, Dorian cried out. He fell back onto the bed as the unrelenting thrust of his hips drove his cock deeper into his Master’s mouth. Rush after rush hit him, drawing out one cry after another. When his orgasm finally began to relinquish its hold, Dorian didn’t fight the pull of sleep. He felt the nudge of Lorik’s body as Lorik slid up to kiss him, then he was aware of nothing else.