“Hmpf. We’ll see, youngblood. Your kind are good at making promises, but terrible at following through.” He aimed that insult at Lucian, then stood, swaying a little, and staggered back to his own table. Lucian shrugged with nonchalance then turned his attention toward the ceiling where large swaths of fabric were being unspooled from the rafters.
“Oh, this will be lovely.” Lucian nudged Stefan who glanced up with a sulk to watch as aerialists descended on ribbons. At first, I thought they were wearing nude-colored leotards, but no, they were buck-ass naked.
“The erosborn have arrived,” Lucian announced for the benefit of the crowd. “They do like to make an entrance.” He turned toward Stefan and dropped his voice to a low rumble. “Their tribe is practiced in the sensual arts, known for their pleasing forms and voracious sexual appetites. They draw their powers from carnal pleasure. Does that entice you,mon beau?”
Stefan shifted in his seat but didn’t answer. He kept his eyes trained on the erosborn as they dipped and swanned along with the music, performed by a small ensemble. All around faces lifted to watch their performance.
“They’re telling our history,” Lucian said, hardly above a whisper. His gaze drifted from the performers to the shell of Stefan’s ear, now tilted in his direction. “When the gods grew curious about the world they’d created and sent down their chosen ambassadors from the holy realms to better know the human race.”
The erosborn moved in slow, sensual rhythms, their muscles as fluid as the ribbons that encircled their bodies. On the floor, several more of their tribe raised their hands high above their heads and were lifted and carried through the room by their flying counterparts.
“But even the divine have weaknesses,” Lucian continued, “and before long, the angels fell in love with their human conquests.” His finger trailed along Stefan’s silken shirt, similar in texture to the acrobats’ ribbons.
“More like lust,” you said at my side. Your face was a glower but even still, you watched, transfixed by their movements.
Here the acrobats simulated fucking, and it was pretty damn convincing. Two sweaty young men wrapped their limbs elegantly around each other. The seated one had the ribbon looped around his thighs like a swing while his rider pumped his legs and threw back his head in a simulation of ecstasy. All around were lusting murmurs as the sexual tension in the room rose with the temperature.
“Would you like that?” Lucian directed Stefan’s gaze to the same two men I’d been watching. Had Lucian staged this performance for the sole purpose of getting Stefan to bone him? “I could tie you up in ribbons,” Lucian tempted, his voice a seductive hum. “Wrap that lovely cock of yours in a bow for only me to unravel. With my teeth.”
Stefan only swallowed, though his heart was racing, and I could see the effort it took for him to remain so stoic. My own dick chubbed up as I watched the erosborn perform.
“I wouldn’t like to be bled,” Stefan said, glaring at me.
“Not to death, my pet,” Lucian soothed. “To ecstasy. I’ve had thousands of years to perfect my technique. Your porcelain skin would bruise so beautifully under my fingertips, like flower petals. You’d be my most precious work of art, and you’d love every second.”
Stefan’s mouth parted. Lust pooled in his eyes and his cheeks flushed, from the wine or Lucian’s provocative words. Even your attention was drawn to the effect Lucian was having on him. It was fascinating to watch him work. Meanwhile, the erosborn artfully disengaged from their partners and lowered them back to the floor.
Then they were climbing again. As Lucian explained, it was to signify the Grigori’s return to the holy realms to tell of their adventures, but their exploits were not well-received. The music changed in tempo. The ribbons shook, rattling the performers, and all around the room, figures dropped in death falls, caught by their ribbons just before hitting the ground.
“The Fall,” Lucian said soberly. “When the angels on high learned of their carnal acts, they banished the Grigori from the holy realms and sent them to dwell on earth, imprisoned in their slovenly bodies.”
The ribbons were cut, signaling the severing of the Grigori from the Order of Angels. Still grasping at their tattered ribbons, the erosborn searched the room for lands to settle in the human realm. They found them in strategically placed cushions and arranged themselves in pornographic poses. I crossed myself twice and couldn’t tear my eyes away.
“And now come the birth of the Nephilim,” Lucian said. The erosborn motioned to our guests, inviting them to join them in what I assumed would be a public fuck fest.
“Lucian, is this a performance or an orgy?” I asked.
Lucian blinked. “Can’t it be both?”
I felt like such a prude. In a matter of minutes, several of our guests were naked and coupling with the erosborn in every contortion known to man. I swallowed thickly as I watched Ashur penetrate a wisp of a man with long black hair. The man’s expression was one that I knew well—fear, pain, and relief melting into blind ecstasy as Ashur began taking him in earnest.
“Would you care to join them?” Lucian asked Stefan. “Or perhaps, join me? We could find a more intimate venue if you’d prefer.” By this time, his chair was positioned so that his legs were spread around Stefan where he sat. Stefan dropped his head to one side and bared his neck, the closest I’d ever seen him come to assent. Lucian’s lips pulled back in a vicious snarl, and I thought for sure he was going to bite him. Only at the last moment, his mouth closed and he only kissed Stefan’s pulsing vein tenderly.
“How do they use their powers?” I asked, wanting to know each of the tribes’ particular strengths and weaknesses.
“Mind control,” you said shortly. “An erosborn’s conquest becomes a slave to their lust and will execute any act, however unsavory, to please their master. It’s a compulsion that only builds over time.”
Your attention was on Lucian, still peppering Stefan’s creamy throat with kisses. It wasn’t lust in your eyes but a kind of thoughtful curiosity.
Stefan groaned, then seemed to realize himself and sat up straighter. “It’s too warm in here.” He glared at me as if I had my finger on the thermostat. “I’m going to get some fresh air.”
“But, darling, you’ll miss my toast.” Lucian drew one finger along the edge of Stefan’s collar where it met with his smooth, tanned skin.
Stefan only grabbed an opened bottle of wine and his glass and left. Lucian smiled and shook his head, staring after him like a fool. “Have you ever met a more maddening creature?”
“Yes,” you said shortly. “You’re courting our mother.”
“What?” Lucian looked surprised. His one hand fluttered like a trapped bird. “Whatever do you mean?”
