Page 97 of Besieger
“Cr—” Victor spluttered, raking his brains for dates and places. They had never talked about the vampire aspect of their arrangement. “Which crusade were you in?”
“TheCrusade. The first one. I was a crusader until 1098…until Ideserted.”
“You’ve never mentioned this before. Who you were before you became a vampire.”
“What is there to say?” Erik drifted closer and leaned against the counter beside Victor. He tapped at the wine glass just as Victor lifted it to his mouth, making the dark red liquid inside slosh. Their fingers almost touched and Victor had to restrain himself from jerking his hand away. The last time they touched Victor ended up shedding both his humanity and restraint in the garden. His dreams that night were haunting: he kept digging his claws in bodies, tearing them until more wolves spilled out of their bellies.
“You see me as I am now,” Erik went on, “as I had been then, when death found and immortalised me.”
“Were you always this cynical?”
“Oh, so much worse.” Erik grinned, and let Victor refill his glass. He took a whiff of it, before taking a long sip of the sweet alcohol. “Careful, this is strong. If you keep drinking, you will getmedrunk.”
“Vampires can’t get drunk.”
“Not in the same way as a human, but alcohol pollutes the blood for everyone.” Erik’s gaze flickered briefly to Victor’s throat. “The wine will be inyourblood.”
Victor wanted to say he was not planning on letting Erik feed on him tonight. They did not need to do it every night. In fact, he suspected vampires as old as theFirst Crusademight not need to drink blood at all.
Ah, you will deny me the pleasure out of spite,Erik’s voice bled into Victor’s mind, its syrupy tone blending deliciously with the taste of the port.
“Or maybe I want to get you intoxicated.” Victor drained the remainder of his drink and reached for the bottle.
Sex with Erik frightened Victor.
It was horrifying.
It was marvellous.
All the tension in Victor’s muscles released. There were no more restraints; he was able to let go and enjoy the moment, hold a lover pinned beneath him without the risk of breaking them. His whole body burned, echoing the itch that preceded a shift, and he knew it would be hours before his eyes returned to their usual blue, but right now, he was in complete control. Of himself. And of Erik.
Erik moaned and gasped, tried to roll and turn to face him, but was pushed down into the mattress, his stomach and sheets coated in drops of blood and the seed that had already spilledfrom him. Victor could not wait to contribute to the mess with his own. He had quickly learned that given the chance, Erik would bite him, not playfully, but sinking his fangs deep in Victor’s throat and gulp as much blood as he could between thrusts, marking Victor all over. If Victor was not careful, if he let that little manoeuvre distract him, he was going to be bled dry. He had been too impatient to let Erik take the upper hand, no matter how delicious the sight. It was excruciating to hold himself still and not move as he wished, to take it slow.Not now, not tonight.Perhaps next time Victor would be a doting lover: a canvas for that wicked mouth and fingers. Let Erik drink his fill as a reward.
He could taste the port on Erik’s mouth, in the blood.Has the alcohol dulled your tongue?Victor thought, having noticed there were no snarky comments, no haughty remarks. Erik’s constant presence in Victor’s head had disappeared.
I like you like this. Shivering, your breath catching every time I pull out and press in again… Erik? Are you listening?
Victor smiled and cooed, lifting Erik’s leg over his shoulders and thrust into him, faster now, rougher, testing the limits of the immortal body. Erik gasped and uttered something in French.
“Oh no, none ofthat. You have to tell me what you want, Erik. Say it in German.”
Erik wriggled under him, his face flushed with blood and embarrassment.
“…don’t stop,” he rasped in German and Victor chuckled against the back of his neck, kissing it, nuzzling gently before biting down, getting the sweetest sound out of Erik, who tried to thrust against him on his own in a sudden frenzy.
So desperate. So starved for it. How long have you waited for this… coaxing me with your fraudulent riddles?
“I wouldn’t dream of it. I’m nowhere near finished with you, my little marquis.”
Erik cursed and this time Victor did not need to ask for the German. He felt a hand against his cheek, trying to push himaway, but Victor had Erik right where he wanted him, pinned and spread beneath him. He was not letting go.
“…don’t—don’t call me that—my name, if you must—”
Victor stopped moving for what felt like an excruciatingly long time, before he pulled out, and Erik groaned in protest. His face was flushed; strands of hair clung to his cheek and forehead in a sweaty mess. Victor aligned their bodies, his mouth close to Erik’s ear; the breath he let out ended in a barely restrained growl.
“Erik,” he rasped, licking at the earlobe as Erik clutched at the sheets. “Erik,” Victor repeated with urgency, guiding his cock back in, slamming his whole length inside. “Does the marquis like this better?”
“You are insufferable—”
