“Yes,” he managed to choke out as blood trickled over his tongue, lip burning from the small cuts Takoma’s fangs had caused.
Takoma took that as permission and pressed the blunt head of his cock against Spencer’s hole, pushing in. Spencer nearly choked on his tongue as Takoma sank into him in one long, relentless slide, body opening up to take it. He shuddered at the pressure against his prostate, hands scrabbling at Takoma’s shoulders as the master vampire sank in andin, every nerve in his body sparking at the edge of too much. When Takoma pulled back out and thrust back in with enough strength to force Spencer up the bed a few inches, he screamed wordlessly against the curve of Takoma’s shoulder, scratching down the master vampire’s back.
The laughter in his ear was prideful more than anything else as Takoma pressed his hands to Spencer’s shoulders and pinned him to the bed. “Keep being good for me.”
And Spencer—just came undone beneath Takoma, on his cock, coasting on the words that stoked a fire in his gut. “That’s it” and “You can take it” and “Let me hear you” and “You’re so good like this” and “Such a good boy.”
He screamed when he came, his second orgasm dragged out of him the way a knife might be—painful and perfect and oh so good, riding the edge of Takoma’s fangs where they were buried in his throat. A roaring sound filled his ears, the world whiting out, nerves on fire as Spencer floated in a staticky headspace.
When he came back to himself, Takoma was still hard inside him, fangs out of his throat, sucking at the bite mark there. Spencer drew in a shuddery breath, tilting his head to the side more, trying to keep his eyes open. Takoma lifted his head, kissing Spencer slow and deep, the taste of blood on his tongue sharp and metallic. His hips flexed, cock sliding out a little, and the ache of it made Spencer whimper.
“Be good and let me come inside you,” Takoma murmured.
Spencer nodded jerkily, body shaky and loose, and he moaned when Takoma thrust back into him. It rode that line of too much, but he didn’t want it to stop. Takoma took his own pleasure in Spencer’s body so thoroughly that Spencer was crying by the time the master vampire came, spilling deep inside him with a groan.
Spencer went limp, beyond sore, but so, so satisfied in a way he’d never been before. Takoma kissed him gently as he pulled out, and Spencer didn’t fight the hands that maneuvered him about and stripped him of his ruined shirt. He was vaguely aware of a warm cloth cleaning him up before he was coaxed under the blankets, forehead pressed against Takoma’s bare hip as the master vampire sat beside him, phone in hand.
Fingers stroked through his hair in a gentle motion. “Go to sleep.”
And Spencer could do nothing but obey.
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
Spencer priedhis eyes open in near darkness at what his inner clock said was probably a little past dawn. He took a moment to gather his thoughts and wake up properly, reluctantly shaking off the throes of a deep sleep. He shifted beneath the duvet that was pulled up to his shoulders, groaning softly at the ache radiating throughout his entire body.
There was sleep, and then there wassleep, and then there was the utterly messy and addicting sex he’d had last night that made him pass out in pure bliss.
Fatima was never going to let him live this down.
He realized his head was resting on a cool chest that didn’t move, Takoma’s arm loosely draped over him. Spencer shifted a little, raising his head to squint through the shadows of the room at Takoma’s lax face, eyes shut, body cool and unmoving in the distant glow of the small lamp on the dresser. He didn’t react to Spencer propping himself up on one elbow to look down at him, long black hair tangled around both their bodies.
Spencer reached out and very carefully laid his palm against the side of Takoma’s face, but the master vampire stayed still and quiet as death beneath his touch, buried in the coma-like sleep all his kind succumbed to during the day. The fact that Spencer had woken up, still in Takoma’s bed and not in a guest room, spoke of a level of trust that made him close his eyes and swear softly.
“You are going to be the absolute death of me,” he said softly, knowing Takoma couldn’t hear him.
Spencer still leaned down to press a careful, gentle kiss to Takoma’s forehead before untangling himself from the blankets, hissing all the while. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such incredible sex, but he absolutely didn’t regret one second of it. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he knuckled one eye and reached for the glass of tepid water on the nightstand that hadn’t been there last night. Next to it was a familiar glass potion vial and a pad of paper with a note scrawled on it, instructing him to drink the potion and providing the code that would let him leave the master bedroom.
Considering how he felt—absolutely ruined—Spencer swallowed the potion in one gulp and hoped its healing properties kicked in quickly. Standing took two tries, but he finally got to his feet, turning to drag the blankets back over Takoma so he didn’t get cold. Rubbing at his face, Spencer stumbled his way to the master bathroom, switching on the light. He winced as he looked at himself in the mirror, half turning to check out the livid bruises and cuts that littered his body, the bite marks on both sides of his throat bruised dark and sore to the touch.
If anyone other than Takoma saw him like this, there would be no doubt at all that he’d been thoroughly claimed.
Shaking his head, Spencer closed the bathroom door and let out a huff of laughter at the clothes hanging off the back hook. The dark jeans and deep blue sweater looked expensive and like they’d fit perfectly. Takoma hadn’t been kidding about the clothes.
Spencer took a long shower, the aches and soreness in his body retreating beneath the spread of the potion. By the time he got out and dried off, the bruises didn’t look so stark. He hated to lose them but knew he had to.
Spencer got dressed and used the code to let himself out, making sure the door was firmly closed and locked behind him. The hallway was dark, but rather than search for a light switch, he cast a couple of witchlights to brighten the way.
Only when he made it downstairs did he realize the blackness existed there as well, courtesy of metal shutters covering every single pane of glass in the home. He located a light switch to use and padded through the first floor, hoping that Takoma provided coffee for his human servants the same way he provided food. He’d just found his way back to the kitchen, eyeing a coffee maker that looked like it’d been built by NASA and needed a degree to match to operate, when Fatima jumped out of the veil and onto the counter with a snarl.
Demons, she warned.
Spencer’s stomach plummeted somewhere way past his feet. “Where?”
Here, past the wards.
“What? Nothing broke.” He would’ve felt the backlash of something like that, considering the sheer number of wards encircling the property. Not to mention the threshold activating.
They were let in.
