Page 28 of Besieger
Silvio wanted to say more, to tease and goad, but words abandoned him. He was having a hard time keeping his focus.He wanted to take his time, go back to gentle caresses and touching, to tasting, and teasing and biting, until neither of them could take more and their bodies melted into one, slowly taking each other apart. He wanted to have Emerick, pull him by the hair and take him mercilessly, to feel nails dig and scrape into his shoulders and back, to have that loosened hole spread wider, pummelled and filled to the brim with seed. To watch the pearl teardrops mix with the semen.
Silvio was full of longing he could not explain, for they had never denied themselves a single pleasure in their cursed lives. They woke and fell asleep next to each other, very rarely spending time apart through the centuries. He knew every inch of Emerick’s body—every sound he could draw out of it. He could play his lover like an instrument. The gasps and moans and pleas, the growls and how his breath caught when Silvio pressed just deep enough inside. He knew his lover as he knew all that he possessed.
There were no restrictions, no reservations, when it came to their desires. The household in Paris had quickly learned to avert their eyes whenever they found their master in the majordomo’s embrace. Now he was teaching the Béziers servants the same lessons, only here Silvio wanted to grant them something he never dared before—he was letting them partake in the spoils. If Emerick wanted to enjoy every pageboy and stablehand, Silvio would allow it. They would feed off these mortals and take them to bed.
He would have Emerick partake in every form of delectation.
Silvio nestled his face in the crook of Emerick’s neck and let his mouth kiss and suck on the skin, leaving it bruised, beginning to enter and ooze inside, his fingers dug in the burning flesh as he spread his legs wider and his knees pressed down on the mattress, searching for support. His lover’s cock rubbed against Silvio’s abdomen, leaving a trail of precum between the two of them. The rhythmic sound of flesh against flesh, echoed by Emerick’s moans and groans. With crude satisfaction Silvionoted that the servants had not spent theComtein the pool while teasing him. They had left him to be undone by his master’s hunger, to be ravished to the edge of madness.
Readjusting his posture, Silvio lifted Emerick’s legs over his shoulders and pushed down hard. The length of his cock buried deeper into the anus, filling it, and Emerick gave out a hiss, his nails raking a mess on Silvio’s back.
“Now,” Silvio purred, all his senses drunk on pleasure, his rhythm momentarily slow and steady, before he resumed to thrust harder. “Nowyou are to my satisfaction.”
His eyes took in the trembling panting form under him, loving how Emerick took all of him and begged for more, the sheets wet with sweat. This dance was sweeter than the flow of blood.
*
In the nights that followed they roamed the city and hunted beyond its walls. Béziers seduced them, offering freedom of movement and delectables they had been denied back in Paris. Yet their solitary bliss was cut short as word had spread and vampires—ancient nightcrawlers and abandoned fledglings—started to arrive at the tower, seeking theMarquis’ favour. A favour he denied all, save one.
SILVIO, 2017
“Who do you think the Council will choose?” Emerick asked, his tone weighed more boredom than concern.
Silvio moved away from the window, intending to sit next to him on the fainting couch. His eyes caught on the mirrors and paintings hanging on the walls, and his steps carried him elsewhere—further away from his lover and across the room.Stopping in front of the mirror he lifted his hand and pressed it against the cool glass surface.
If he focused, he could hear the dozens of mortals and immortals moving around the Berlin Coven. And if he attuned his senses and reached further, he could feel the absence of Ingenuar. The First Vampire. The All Father. The man who had released Silvio from the prison of matrimony, and given him a title and a coven of his own.
“I don’t know but Ingenuar was confident it will not be Scarlett,” Silvio sighed, recalling the conversation he had with the master vampire in the blue room, so many centuries ago. “He said the council will never allow her to rule, despite it being her right.”
When Emerick turned to look at him, a puzzled frown marring his features, Silvio added:
“Something along the lines of how the lesser covens may pass to a Regent’s consort, but the same does not apply tothe Coven. It rules over every vampire, and it cannot be just any vampire taking the place of the All Father.”
“You are saying the rules change with the hierarchy. If you become Coven Master and then die, I will not succeed you like I could as aMarquisin Béziers? There will be a vote instead?”
“Hypothetically,” Silvio nodded.
“This is ridiculous. Why cling to consorts and masters at all? Why waste immortality on kings and queens? The Council should rule us if they are so bent on who governs the dead.”
“You will be denouncing your right as my consort, dearComte.”
“This is hardly a right,” Emerick huffed. His eyes trailed down the front of his shirt and he patted it, trying to clear some of the ashes that still clung to him. “We are not a monarchy. We are behaving like…” he chewed on the inside of his cheek, thinking. “Like humans.” The word came out bitter. “We are vampires. This is bizarre. We should abandon this farce entirely and go home.”
Home, Silvio thought. What he would not give to be back in the tower, to find peace in thetepidarium’squiet heat. As the night progressed, he felt as if he was losing parts of himself. His reflection fell apart, an echo of his mental state. Silvio looked up at the mirror and his image smeared. He appeared to fade, growing weaker.Was the weight of the centuries taking its toll?
“What about Mihaela?” Emerick suggested.
They had seen the girl standing by the pyre, her demonic companion at her side. Some believed she was the first to arrive at the scene of the crime. Something must have pulled her to the chamber—the absence of her maker calling her. Yet Scarlett had come much later, summoned from the master bedroom.
“She barely has two decades behind her as a vampire,” Silvio turned from the mirror and faced his lover. “She is unfit to sire another, let alone rule.”
“But easier to govern and steer in the direction that the Council wants,” Emerick pointed out. “Not that the demon will ever let them do this to the girl. Trading one yoke for another. I am surprised they’ve both lingered here this long.”
“They must be waiting for matters to settle. Otherwise it will look like they were fleeing, guilty of murder.”
“And to think how hard it was to make her stay in the Coven in the first place.”
They stood silent for a moment, before Silvio finally walked over to Emerick. He looked theComteup and down, his thought drifting again to thetepidariumand the warm water of the bathhouse. They needed a change of clothes and a bath, something to scrub death off their skin and hair; blood to wash down the taste of soot and smoke. Earlier, amid the chaos, he had noticed a young man dressed in a footman’s livery. His skin baring a dark complexion that complemented his wavy hair and almond eyes beautifully. Silvio could call the servant to their room and drink from him; a small distraction before the Council summoned them to announce the next stage of their immortaldynasty.Or we could stay in here, wash our hands from this mess and enjoy our own company before the journey back to Béziers.
