Four letter words, p.5
Four-Letter Words, page 5
part #8 of Haven Series
“You’re thinking too hard,” Thane chastised, but the smile on his face was full of wickedness. “Say yes, lieveling.”
The endearment sparked something in him, a note of recognition that he didn’t understand. Growing up in Belgium, Zasha knew the language Thane spoke was Dutch, and he’d heard countless others use the endearment during his lifetime. He didn’t think that was why it felt so familiar to him, though.
His heart pounded just a little faster, and his already aching cock swelled and throbbed against his zipper. “I…this is bad.” His brain was shutting down. Whether it was from thirst for Thane’s blood or hunger for the man’s body, he couldn’t say. Still, he had enough sense about him to know that no matter how much he desired his mate, he had to resist the temptation.
Moving with a fluidity Zasha hadn’t expected, Thane spun him on his heels and pressed his chest flat against the side of the house. Then he covered Zasha’s back with his taller frame, pinning him in place while he nibbled at the nape of his neck.
“There,” Thane whispered, sliding his hand down Zasha’s stomach to pop open the clasp on his slacks. “You can’t even reach me with your fangs, and you’re not going to hurt me.” His long, talented fingers dipped into the waistband of Zasha’s boxers and extracted his hard cock, squeezing gently around the base. “Let me make you feel good. At least give me this.”
If he wanted, Zasha could break the hold without blinking. That was exactly what he should do, but the lips on his neck and the hand on his dick felt too good. He’d denied them both of this for weeks on end, and while he knew he should say no, he couldn’t force the word through his parched mouth.
Thane was right about one other thing as well. In their current position, Zasha had no access to an artery. Are you really trying to justify this, asshole? Gods help him, but he was. When Thane began to pump his cock in slow, measured glides, Zasha would have told himself any lie, concocted any reasoning, to continue feeling that pleasure.
“It’s up to you.” Thane’s unoccupied hand slid under his shirt and fluttered over his clenching abs. “Say yes, Zasha. Tell me you want this.”
There was a clear plea in Thane’s voice, and Zasha understood that if he refused, Thane would walk away. He’d be hurt, and probably a little frustrated, but he’d stop everything if that was truly what Zasha wanted. “I…” It shouldn’t have been such a difficult decision. However, the fact that he hadn’t been able to retract his fangs since they’d stepped outside was weighing heavily on him.
Thane’s exploration came to a halt, and he released Zasha’s pulsing length with a sigh of resignation. “Okay, sweetheart. It’s okay.” He whispered another kiss over Zasha’s neck and nuzzled against his shoulder. “I’m sorry I pushed.”
With his palms pressed flat to the side of the house, Zasha dropped his head, resting his chin on his chest, and squeezed his eyes closed. “Yes.”
“What was that?”
Zasha could hear the undercurrent of hope tinting his lover’s tone, and it broke his heart. It wasn’t fair for him to deny his partner simply because he had no self-control. He was stronger than that. All of his excuses about Thane being too sick were bullshit, when really, it all boiled down to Zasha’s weakness.
“Yes,” he repeated with more conviction. “I want this.” Lifting his head, he peeked over his shoulder and captured Thane’s lips in a lingering kiss. “I want you.”
With a needy moan, Thane attacked his mouth, plunging his tongue between Zasha’s parted lips to taste and explore every inch he could reach. One hand pressed flat to Zasha’s stomach while the other fisted his erection again. “We’ll take it slow,” Thane panted. “Tell me if it gets to be too much.”
Zasha assumed he meant the bloodlust, but it was kind of hard to think around the throbbing of his cock. “Stop talking.” Now that he’d given in, he couldn’t get enough. Every touch, every taste, every hard glide of Thane’s hand over his length was more addicting than the last.
Shaking and shuddering, he bucked into his lover’s fist as he nipped at Thane’s delectable lips. The muscles in his thighs trembled, and his heart hammered against his sternum. Each exhale caught in his chest, forced out through a panting moan.
His sac tightened, squeezing his balls and tugging them closer to his body. A tingle started at the base of his skull and traveled down his spine as he pushed back into his lover, grinding his ass against Thane’s groin. “More,” Zasha demanded.
Thane responded with a low, breathless growl. His fist constricted around Zasha’s hard shaft, flying over the length in a blur. The hand on Zasha’s stomach crept upward to pinch and tug at his nipples, pulling a ragged groan from him that echoed around the porch.
Soft lips skimmed along the shell of his ear, and Thane rocked into him, rubbing his trapped erection against Zasha’s backside. The sound of his mate’s moans, the feel of the hand on his cock, and the sweet taste that lingered on his tongue combined to make his head spin.
When Thane buried his face into Zasha’s shoulder and gasped, the implication didn’t fully register until the scent of the witch’s climax hit him like a goddamn wrecking ball. Slamming his fist against the beige siding, Zasha dropped his head and growled while his hips jerked sporadically. Semen jetted from his cock in a never-ending river, spilling onto the wooden planks beneath him until he felt drained.
“Gods, I needed that.” Thane moved in closer and rubbed his cheek against the top of Zasha’s head. “Feeling better?”
He heard the words but they didn’t make any sense. Now that one hunger had been sated, the other came roaring to life like a locomotive. He intended to warn his mate, to tell Thane to go, to run, but when he opened his mouth, all that came out was a feral snarl.
In the next heartbeat, without any conscious decision on his part, their positions were reversed. By the time he realized what was happening, Zasha had his lover pinned against the house with his fangs embedded in the supple flesh of Thane’s throat.
* * * *
The abruptness in which he found himself with a neck full of fang startled him, but the bite itself caused his softening cock to twitch inside his sticky boxers. There was no pain associated with Zasha’s bite, no discomfort of any kind. On the contrary, each gentle draw on the wound made him want to rub against his lover like a wanton slut.
Zasha was getting the nutrients he needed while marking his territory, so to speak. Thane received the satisfaction of providing for his mate, adding something to their relationship after so long of feeling useless. The passion in the moment, the high he felt from the simple act, transported him to another time and place when things hadn’t been so complicated.
“Mmm,” Thane purred as he caressed his lover’s cheek. “I love that part.”
Zasha sprawled atop him so that their naked chests pressed together. A layer of perspiration made his smooth skin glisten in the flickering light from the solitary candle at their bedside. His kiss-swollen lips stretched into a grin, showing off his pointed canines as he nuzzled his cheek against Thane’s palm.
“I can’t say I enjoy it as much as you, love, but it is nice.” Zasha exhaled a contented sigh through his nose, causing his nostrils to flare. Pushing into a sitting position to straddle Thane’s hips, he reached out and traced his finger around the puncture wounds on Thane’s neck. “I like the thought of having a part of you inside me, and I know I need the nourishment. I just wish I didn’t have to mark you to get it.”
“I’m honored to wear your mark,” Thane argued. Zasha was the most beautiful man he’d ever met in any of his lifetimes, but there was so much more to the vampire, qualities that had captivated him instantly.
Zasha was fearless, brave and honorable to a fault, and he was so selfless he almost didn’t seem real sometimes. He hurt for those in pain, whether he knew them or not, and he gave more of himself than Thane thought was fair. If there was a way for Zasha to help, he’d find it. When he couldn’t ease another’s suffering, he agonized over it for days. He loved unconditionally and trusted far too easily.
Passion, honesty, kindness, loyalty, beauty, grace—there was no end to the list of traits that made Zasha truly remarkable in Thane’s eyes. Fate had honored him with an amazing gift, and each day, he strived to be worthy to call himself Zasha’s mate.
A change in his lover’s body language pulled him from his daydream, and Thane wanted to bang his head against the wall. He should have known it was too good to last. The difference was subtle at first, but then, like a switch being flipped, Zasha ceased all motion and went completely rigid in his arms. With surprising accuracy, Thane could pinpoint the exact moment Zasha’s actions coalesced with his lust-addled brain.
With such carefulness, as if he was taking precautions so as not to startle him, Zasha withdrew his canines and placed a heartbreakingly tender kiss over the bite. “I’m so sorry.”
Though whispered, Thane felt every ounce of agony in those three little words. His chest constricted, his stomach clenched, and his throat burned with his rising emotions. “Zasha.” Taking his lover’s cheeks in both hands, he lifted Zasha’s face up to the moonlight and rubbed their lips together in comfort. “Look at me.”
It was a long time before Zasha finally opened his eyes. “I thought I was stronger than that. I guess I was wrong.”
“Zasha, there is nothing wrong with your self-control.” Now, he was getting pissed. “If you throw a starving dog into a chicken coop, it doesn’t matter how well trained he is. He’s going to do what it takes to survive.”
“Did you just call me a mutt?”
Under different circumstances, Thane might have laughed. Right then, however, he didn’t appreciate the deflection. “No. What I’m saying is you’re not getting what you need from that bagged crap. You won’t let me take care of you. Then to top it off, you’ve gone without blood for how many days now? It’s not smart. It’s not healthy.” Letting the steel-laced authority seep into his tone, he took his mate by the chin and looked directly into his eyes. “And it’s not going to fucking happen again. Are we clear?”
He could kick his own ass for not seeing it sooner. Since he wasn’t a vampire himself, he wouldn’t have guessed there was much difference between stored and flesh blood, apart from the taste perhaps. Clearly, that wasn’t the case. The urgency and desperation in Zasha’s mannerisms hadn’t registered during the time, but now that the fog of passion had dissipated, it was all too easy to infer what had caused the lapse in Zasha’s restraint.
Of course, Zasha couldn’t just nod and agree with him. The man was a damn martyr, and he’d find a way to blame himself in any situation. “You’re missing the point. I could have seriously hurt you.”
Thane rolled his eyes as he began straightening his partner’s clothes, tucking Zasha back into his slacks and smoothing the wrinkles from his shirt. “You didn’t hurt me. I didn’t stop you, Zash. You did that on your own.”
Batting Thane’s hand away, Zasha fastened the clasp on his pants, grumbling under his breath the entire time. “I shouldn’t have bitten you in the first place.”
“How do you feel?”
“What?” Zasha’s head snapped up, and his eyebrows drew together. “I don’t see how that’s relevant.”
Gods, the man was going to be the death of him. The vampire would shrivel up and blow away if he thought for even a second that it might help in some way. And he accused Thane of letting his emotions cloud his judgment. “Just tell me. How do you feel now?”
“I…I feel like a bastard, but physically, I feel like a god.”
“Uh-huh.” Settling his hands on Zasha’s hips, Thane pulled him forward and nipped at his chin. “So just maybe I was right.” When his lover didn’t respond, Thane tangled his fingers in the Zasha’s hair and pulled his head back on his shoulders. “I’m fine. I don’t feel lightheaded, dizzy, or faint. I’m not weak, nauseous, or even the tiniest bit tired. Stop worrying about me.”
“I’ll always worry about you,” Zasha whispered in return. “How can I not?”
“How can I not worry about you?” he countered. “You are beautiful both inside and out, but you give too much. It’s okay to take a little for yourself every now and then.” Thane racked his brain for a way to make Zasha understand that he hadn’t caused irreparable damage. Finally, he decided facts would appeal the most to his mate’s organized, control-freak personality. “I need to gain in the ballpark of thirty more pounds, right?”
“Yes, though I wouldn’t be upset if it was a few more. You’re doing well, Thane.” Zasha sounded like a cheerleader at a pep rally, rooting for a team with a losing record. “The doctor is impressed with your progress, and I’m excited to see you getting stronger.”
Even in the midst of an argument, Zasha couldn’t miss the opportunity to toss in his own brand of encouragement. The gods have mercy on him, because Thane found it impossible to fight against that kind of optimism. While his irritation was fading rapidly, there was still a point he was trying to make.
“That’s kind of the idea. What was my last red-blood-cell count?”
“Five and a half,” Zasha answered at once.
“Where does that fall on the scale or normal?”
“Right in the middle.”
Thane knew Zasha had memorized all the charts and data available, just so he could provide the best care possible for him. “My last physical was perfect, other than being underweight, correct?”
“Well, yeah.” Zasha’s lips turned down into an adorable frown. “You tricked me.”
“No, sweetheart.” He cupped his lover’s cheek and smiled. “I’m just trying to show you why you’re overreacting. Now, please, can we drop all of this nonsense? I’ll take an iron supplement every day if it will make you feel better.”
Each argument, each disagreement, and every single time he’d been nagged was completely worth it when a gorgeous smile lit up Zasha’s face. “You present a compelling argument, Mr. Braddock.” He nodded once and pressed himself against Thane’s chest. “You need to be taking the iron supplement anyway, and no caffeine or alcohol. It thins your blood.”
“Yes, Doctor,” Thane teased, but he was delighted Zasha was being so reasonable.
“I mean it. I’m not one hundred percent comfortable with this, but I’m willing to try. That means you’re going to have to put up with me being overprotective for a bit longer. I need to take care of you. The least you can do is let me.”
“I have a better idea.” Tilting his head to the side, he bent until he was a mere breath from Zasha’s lips. “What if, and hear me out, we take care of each other?”
Slender arms encircled his neck, and Zasha chuckled under his breath. “Yeah, I think I’d like that.”
Thane wasn’t so naïve as to believe that all of their problems had been magically solved. As his lips pillowed against Zasha’s and he teased the seam with his tongue, he felt they were off to a pretty damn good start, though.
Chapter Five
The next few nights brought good news for a change. The Enforcers had located Thane’s younger brother, Mikko, in the bayous of Louisiana. Since Thane had been out of the loop for a while, and his family was busy preparing for some kind of ritual involving Leader Tuesday’s mate, Zasha was doing his best to get his lover up to date with the current events.
“Phillip McCarthy has apparently been a plague on your family for years.” He only knew bits and pieces of the story, but Thane listened with rapt attention, motioning for him to continue. “He kidnapped Torren and tried to raise the dead. He had possession of the Book of the Banished at one time, and he’s the reason Raith’s being poisoned by that dark magic.”
He didn’t get all the rules about witches and magic, but he understood evil just fine. By syphoning away Phillip McCarthy’s magic, Raith Braddock had damned himself to protect the people he loved. Thankfully, there was a way to purge the blackness from his soul, and if the ritual went according to plan, the witch would be back to normal by the time the sun rose.
“Okay, and where is this guy now?”
Zasha stopped pacing the living room and arched an eyebrow at his disgruntled lover. “Now that Mikko is safe, Phillip will be handed over to the Olympia Coven in Washington.” Kneeling between Thane’s knees where he perched on the sofa, Zasha took his hands and squeezed. “He will be punished. I promise.”
Zasha had been trying. Since their tryst on the front porch, he’d not badgered Thane nearly as much about his diet, exercise, or overall health. However, he also hadn’t engaged in any further sexual exploits or fed from his mate since that night.
Yes, he was trying to compromise as Thane wanted. He conceded that his mate brought up valid points about his speedy recovery. Much to the witch’s displeasure, he’d even requested Thane’s doctor make a special visit the previous night to check him over from top to bottom.
Other than needing to gain more weight, the doctor had confirmed that Thane was in excellent health and could even begin an exercise regimen to gain muscle mass. Of course, Thane had made it a point to ask about sexual activity. The doctor had chuckled quietly and winked, saying he recommended it at least twice a day.
Zasha hadn’t seen the humor. He trusted the medic, and he was excited about Thane’s progress. Still, he was finding it hard to convince himself that his concerns were invalid. He’d only had Thane for a few weeks, and already, he was more attached than he should be. The thought of doing anything—unintentional, accidental, or otherwise—that would tear his mate away from him sent him into a panic.
Thane softened toward him, and he dipped his head to kiss Zasha’s brow. “The sun will be rising soon. You should head down to the basement.”
“And where are you going?” It didn’t escape his notice that Thane hadn’t included himself in that thinly veiled command. For some reason, perhaps because of his growing attachment and constant fear that something bad lurked just around the corner, it made him nervous to be away from his partner.
