Vampires and Lovers Ch. 02

David sucked enthusiastically at the head of Gabriel's engorged penis. His big mate still had him pinned helplessly and he loved every minute, the alpha male's primal dominance an electrifying aphrodisiac. David quickly realised Gabriel had no intention of spilling in his mouth. The Lycan never let more than the flared dome push past the blond's lips and David groaned as his shaft was worked effortlessly back into full hardness by a wickedly talented tongue. He gave a low groan as Gabriel moved swiftly. His knees were pushed back to align with his shoulders and his lover's hard, thick flesh rammed inside him setting up a hard, fast and deep rhythm. The blond's head thrashed mindlessly from side to side as his prostate was pounded mercilessly; it was the only part of his body he could move. He keened as he was inexorably pushed towards a second incendiary climax. Wave after wave of pleasure built up low in his belly and with a bite to his throat as the final catalyst David came hard.

Gabriel could sense his mate was getting close. He could feel tiny pulses of his lover's channel urging his own shaft to erupt. He concentrated on keeping up his thrusting, determined to bring David to completion first. His single-mindedness was repaid by the moan of his name as he bit down on David's throat with sharp teeth. He felt his husband's release bathe their bodies and he threw back his head to howl his own climax. He felt his seed fill his lover's spasming channel and he continued to thrust long after the last drop of his semen had buried itself in the beloved body.

"Feed," David's voice whispered huskily. Gabriel obeyed, sinking his teeth into fragile flesh and tasting the sweetness that was his mate. As he did he began to caress his lover's body. He tugged and teased taut, reddened nipples and stroked at sweat-sheened, satin skin. The soft cries of pleasure the erotic touches engendered had the big male swelling with pride and possession. *His* mate, his beloved David. He lapped closed the tiny wounds and moved to suckle at the breasts he'd tormented with his fingers. Small hands, having freed themselves from behind David's body, carded through Gabriel's now mussed mane of hair. Wordless sounds of contentment replaced heavy breathing as the lovers touched and soothed.

David pushed insistently until Gabriel lay back and then straddled his bigger mate. As large hands skimmed over his flanks, back, buttocks and thighs, the smaller man rooted out dark, thick nubs hidden in Gabriel's opulent chest fur. Thumbing one gently, he bathed the other with tiny licks before taking it into his mouth. For a long time the couple relished the simple intimacy, their touches expressing the depth of their love.

****

Wyl and Vincent turned as they heard the sounds of David and Gabriel approaching. The big Lycan appeared, dressed only in somewhat torn jeans, carrying his mate with ease. Vincent's laugh echoed around the glade as he saw the petit blond only wore Gabriel's shirt. Wyl's softer giggles bubbled free and soon all four were laughing as David was lowered to stand and stare at his barely-there clothing.

"Next time I let you out for a run, my husband, I'm taking spare clothing for me," the blond snickered. He was pleased to see that, although Wyl's cheeks had pinkened, the brunette was not overly embarrassed by his lack of attire. Even better, as they began to slowly meander their way back to the castle, Wyl was willing to join him and Gabriel in a game of running and dodging.

David's sparkling sapphire eyes met Vincent's contented cerulean as the older vampire continued at his more sedate pace. He was overjoyed to see that Wyl was fast becoming an integral part, as much as a beloved member, of their family.

****

Once back in the castle the couples changed their clothes and their moods. It was a sombre group that met in the spacious lounge. To their shock, the two experienced vampires were unable to say assuredly what had killed the women.

"Their life-force was sucked from their bodies," Seamus said. "There also seems to have been sexual release, but not intercourse. If it was an incubus, it was none like I have ever encountered."

"Neither succubae nor incubi kill their victims," Vincent put in.

"Nor do they gouge out a victim's throat," Coleran agreed. "In truth I have not heard of anything that attacks its victims in such a manner."

Wyl looked anxiously at the serious faces around him. Sometimes his new world seemed a place of wonder, at others a place of unutterable darkness. That those around him were unable to identify what had killed the poor women had him not a little frightened. He began to shiver slightly.

"Could it be some hybrid beast the rogues have created to terrorise humans?" Gabriel asked.

"I think not," Vincent mused. "They would test it elsewhere and use it where it would cause most fear -- a large metropolis. This place is too small. Coleran would know immediately if there were any of our more common adversaries in the area. This seems a single, premeditated attack. It is ... different ..." Vincent stopped his musings as he felt the tremors that now wracked Wyl's slender frame and he turned to see his lover staring with wide, frightened eyes towards the French windows.

"C ... cold," Wyl said, as he raised a shaking finger to point out at the darkness beyond.

Vincent rose immediately to his feet to be flanked by Seamus and Coleran.

"Protect our young ones," Vincent ordered Gabriel. He did not pause to even glance at the Lycan who had shifted into his larger, more dangerous form to stand growling menacingly in the direction of Wyl's fear. Instead, followed by Seamus and Coleran, he streaked outside. He would allow nothing to harm his Chosen. He had felt nothing until Wyl had spoken and then, at the periphery of his awareness, he had felt a malignant presence, something of infinite darkness. Whatever their nemesis was, it hid itself well that so many experienced individuals had failed to detect its presence. A motion had him, plus the others, swooping silently to restrain a struggling form.

They took their captive back to the castle only to find their prize was Marten looking angrily at them.

"Marten," Coleran sighed. "I have told you not to leave here alone until you are more in control of your powers. You could be hurt."

"I needed some freedom," Marten snarled, dragging himself free of Seamus and Vincent. "I'm going to bed."

Vincent watched him vanish. Something about the youngest vampire troubled him, but his concern was dragged back to Wyl.

The brunette was being held tightly by David, the smaller man rocking Wyl gently, and crooning nonsense softly, as the tremors abated. As the others looked over, David raised his head, still keeping his grip on the other man.

"I think Wyl may become a Sensitive," he declared.

"What is that?" Wyl asked, looking with concern into David's warm, turquoise depths.

"It's possible that although your normal five senses will be enhanced beyond that of a human, they may remain slightly less than one of us. Instead, your most enhanced sense will be your sixth." The blond gave a reassuring smile. "Whatever our adversary is, it can hide itself from us but not from you. At least not when it gets close," he added. "If you were more trained, you might be able to track it even further away."

Vincent held out his arms and David released Wyl to let the brunette burrow into his mate's protective embrace. He nuzzled into soft curls. The sour scent of fear was lessening and Vincent's protective instincts consequentially abated ... fractionally.

"Tomorrow evening Seamus and I will transverse the town. I may not sense it as strongly as my Chosen, but when we were out there I felt its presence." Vincent said as he held tightly to his lover.

"I will come with you," Coleran insisted. "It is my town, they are my people. I will not sit back and see them slaughtered as sheep."

Seamus nodded his agreement, seeing the fear in Vincent's eyes. Wyl might be the most sensitive to their unknown enemy, but none of them would willingly risk the youngest and most vulnerable member of their family.

****

Although Marten had been instructed to remain in the castle, he was restless. He needed to be outside and a raging erection throbbed angrily between his legs. He had already tried to assuage the sensation by use of his hand, but almost as soon as he had come, arousal reheated his veins and his shaft quickly refilled. He growled with a mixture of anger and frustration and then flung open his windows and took to the air.

He searched out his prey and dropped silently to take her from behind. She was pushed to all fours on the ground and Marten ripped frantically at the scrap of flimsy material that covered his intended goal. He pushed inside her, ignoring her whimpers of denial, and fingered her hidden mound. Within a couple of minutes he was rewarded by her first shuddering climax and he groaned his enjoyment as his shaft was milked, but he wasn't ready to come just yet. He tore at her blouse, fondling at her breasts, tugging at their firmness and the tight nipples. He licked at her throat reaching again between her legs as his hips pistoned frantically. He felt her approaching a second orgasm as he reached his own and, for a few minutes, all was grey as he emptied himself into her. As he floated in the aftermath, he felt pressure at his own throat and gave a soft moan. As awareness settled over him, he glanced furtively round, frowning, and rapidly ascended to return home.

The woman gasped at the intensity of the pounding. Although she did not want this, she was unable to resist the unsought pleasure the brutal attack brought with it. She moaned piteously as an unwilling orgasm was wrung from her, her body bucking against the strength of the one behind her. She whimpered as fingers reached again between her labia. Suddenly she realised that there was no pressure, nor fingers, nor was she penetrated, however her eyes were unable to open. She fought to see what was happening. She peeled back her leaden lids and her mouth opened in a silent scream of unbridled terror at the black, leathery visage that leered down at her. It did not stop her second orgasm. Even as it peaked, she felt herself sucked into a glacial, midnight-black vacuum. Her life had fled before the sharp teeth ripped the flesh at her throat. She never saw her attacker ascend into the air.

Sensing the malignant presence, three vampires swooped as one. Marten struggled furiously in the grip of Vincent and Seamus as he was returned to the castle.

****

Marten sat in stony silence as Vincent and Seamus questioned him about the blood on his shirt. They had begun their questioning as Coleran had been called away by one of his servants; however, despite their best efforts the younger man remained unspeaking. It was only when Coleran returned with a second bloodstained shirt that the detached, unconcerned facade began to fracture.

"You were wearing this two nights ago," Coleran said, his voice hard, clipped and icy. "The night the second victim was killed. Are you going to attempt to deny you were out?"

"I don't know where the blood came from," Marten said sullenly. "I didn't do anything wrong."

Before Coleran could speak again, he was approached by his butler. All watched as the message was relayed and Coleran's face drained of what little colour it possessed. He remained silent until the older man had left and then stared at Marten with undisguised loathing.

"Another woman died tonight," he hissed.

"It wasn't me," Marten said, rising to face his Sire. "Coleran, please," he added, reaching to the older man. "I haven't killed anyone."

"I curse the day I found you," Coleran said, refusing to face the younger vampire. "I should have left you to die."

Marten's veneer of arrogance and indifference vanished and the others saw the soul-deep pain in response to Coleran's words.

"I swear," Marten insisted, his eyes now frantic. "Coleran, I would never ... "

"I put you in Seamus' hands. He may do with you as he wishes."

"I haven't killed anyone," Marten wailed, tears beginning to spill making him look like the fragile youth he actually was.

"I believe him." The small voice had all turning to look at Wyl with surprise. "I believe him," he repeated, a stain creeping over his cheeks, as he became the centre of attention.

"Why would you believe me when my own Sire will not?" Marten sniffed. Of all in the room, Wyl seemed the least likely to have taken his side and it left Marten confused as well as scared and distraught.

"The cold," Wyl whispered. "I can feel it ... out there," his eyes darted quickly towards the window. "But I've never felt it in you. I don't understand and I can't explain it," he added, looking desperately at his mate.

"Wyl has not been fully comfortable since we arrived," David said. "It has to be sensitive qualities beginning. What we thought was a past memory on arrival must have been his sensing our foe. Does the cold feel close, Wyl?" he asked.

"No, not close." Wyl frowned, wishing he could verbalise exactly what he felt. "But there's something familiar ... like when I know someone's a vampire."

"I may have turned someone," Marten said in small voice.

"Impossible," barked Coleran, turning to look at the young man.

"I was restless, I wanted to be loved. You always looked sorry you'd saved me, especially given my ... preferences. About two weeks ago I found myself with a woman. I'd never wanted women before, but she seemed so familiar, so desirable. We had sex and I remember her wish to be bitten. I've met up with her three times since."

"Two nights ago and again tonight for example?" Seamus asked. He received a nod in response.

"All this time I thought you resented me turning you," Coleran said, his voice softening. He came closer to the young man and then frowned. "Seamus, Vincent, what do you make of this?" He reached to touch Marten's throat.

The three oldest vampires gathered around the perplexed younger man and studied marks at his neck.

"He's been bitten, but these are no bites from a vampire," Vincent said, frowning.

"I said I'd turned someone," Marten sighed, unconsciously nuzzling into Coleran's hand, needing to feel the older man was no longer angry with him. He looked anxiously into the stormy, jade orbs. He gave a hopeful smile as Coleran's thumb began to stroke his jaw line.

"You aren't mature enough to turn anyone, Marten," David said. "Even Wyl couldn't. It would be disastrous if new vampires could turn others before they were comfortable with their new abilities. It will take many years."

"Another vampire's mark would have vanished by now," Vincent added. "Whatever fed from you is not of our kind."

"It seems to need sexual release," Gabriel growled. "That is the common factor between what Marten experiences and what happens to the victims. Is it feeding on the sexual energy in some way?"

"There is a powerful release of energy with orgasm," Seamus said. "That's really what succubae and incubi feed on. This thing wants more, though. It drains the very living essence from its victim, probably at the highest point of sexual release."

"There are many things that emerge to feed for short intense periods and then sink back into hibernation," Coleran said, his arm now around Marten's waist, holding tightly to the other man. "I think we have one of these creatures here. If we fail to find and stop it, it could disappear once more."

"I start feeling in real need of release," Marten husked, embarrassed. "Using, um, my hand, isn't enough. I have to go and find her."

"Marten, how do you feel after ... well, after," Gabriel queried.

"Drained as well as sated," the younger man confessed. "I just thought it was part and parcel of my new life. Um, she ... it ... wants me to be rough," he added, clearly distressed.

"Emotional energy," Seamus muttered. "I would suggest it feeds from Marten's emotional state as well as taking his blood, then in some way re-enacts its coupling with Marten with its human victim, draining them of all life in the process."

"How are we going to find this thing?" Marten asked, leaning into Coleran's embrace.

Eyes turned to Wyl who huddled close to Vincent.

"I'm the only one who can feel it," he whispered. "I have to find it."

"I think we have exhausted what we can do tonight," Vincent growled. "It's getting light. I suggest we retire and rest. We seem to have one night to find it before it will seek a victim and start to exert its influence on Marten once more."

****

Once alone, Coleran turned the young man in his arms. Their height and build were almost identical and they gazed, tentative turquoise into resolute emerald.

"I thought you despised me for being gay," Marten whispered. "You seemed so distant."

"I fell in love with you the moment I saw you," Coleran murmured, his nose rubbing against that of his mate-to-be. "I wanted you even as you lay recovering. My fear was that you would think I had purposely turned you simply to have you. I hoped to woo you over time, to show you it was not base lust that motivated me, it was something much deeper, much purer."

"Then show me now, Coleran, please," Marten pleaded. He would get on his knees and beg if he had to.

"Come with me," Coleran whispered.

The two men ascended to the turret bedroom that Coleran had shown Seamus. He stripped Marten slowly, savouring the sight of each new piece of skin he uncovered before worshipping it with hands and lips. He took the straining erection into his mouth, instantly triggering Marten's climax, and joyfully swallowed all the younger man could produce. He laid the spent male on the bed and rapidly denuded himself. He stalked predatorily over the sated form, his smile feral and possessive. He had yearned so long to do this; nothing would stop him claiming the dark-haired youth for his own.

Marten groaned at the sight of Coleran crawling towards him, the desire in the darkened, verdant eyes making his sex twitch in anticipation. Part of him wished he was still virgin, another was simply rejoicing that he was finally going to be one with the handsome older man. He spread his legs invitingly, receiving a smile in return that made his stomach flip with undefined expectation. He began to writhe, even before Coleran's hands touched him, soft whimpers of need spilling from his lips.

Coleran pushed the long legs back, displaying Marten to his hungry gaze. There was no lubricant in the room and Marten was a long way from being able to produce his own. Coleran kissed the tightly closed portal, licking gently at furled flesh and revelled in the pleasured cry. He was aware of Marten's arms sliding under his own knees to hold himself open to his mate and growled his approval. His hands were now free. Still licking lightly, Coleran began to stroke and knead the alluring globes, then parting them. His thumbs slid towards the saliva-slick rosebud and slid inside, encouraging it to bloom. Marten's cries urged him on and his tongue pushed imperiously into heated depths. It stroked the silken inner walls, tasting, wetting, opening, making his mate ready to accept the flesh that would unite them.

Marten wordlessly begged his mate for more. He tried to pull himself impossibly open, making himself exposed and vulnerable as Coleran's tongue possessed his most intimate entrance. Again and again it delved, the older man's face now pressed hard against Marten's wide-spread cheeks until, with a drawn-out wail, the younger man felt it lave his sweet spot. Once, twice and then he was bereft of his mate. Before he could whine his distress, he was being filled with long, hard, thick flesh. Coleran's mouth ground possessively against his and he opened immediately, letting it own him.